Page 39 of A Reign of Embers

I’m about to make my way back to my platform when a familiar voice reaches me from the other side of one of the tents. “Come on now, you don’t need to do that.”

It’s Marc’s new gravelly baritone, mildly chiding. I ease partway around the fabric wall to see who he’s talking to.

He’s standing a few paces beyond the tent, his back to me, poised between two boys who look to be around seven years old. One is clearly a court child, his velvet jacket trimmed with gold embroidery and the leather of his shoes polished to a shine.

The other must be a commoner, and not the wealthiest of them either. Mended patches cover his baggy tunic, and the sole of one of his shoes gapes at the heel.

I can just imagine who the former emperor will look more kindly on. I tense in anticipation of needing to intervene.

The court boy swings a fist at the commoner, who smacks him in return while clutching his other hand close to his chest.

“Hey!” Marc’s voice sharpens. He pushes the boys farther apart so they can’t reach each other, gripping their shoulders to hold them in place.

“He took my glow-ball!” the court boy insists. “Thief!”

“It was mine. You tried to steal it fromme.”

I expect Marc to snap at the commoner boy for daring to harass and slander a member of his court. But instead my husband turns to the lavishly dressed boy, the profile of his face showing a scowl.

“I saw you go over to him and snatch it away. Why shouldn’t he snatch it back? There are a hundred of those balls rolling around this courtyard for you all to play with. Go look for one of your own rather than taking one someone already found.”

The court boy stomps his foot. “But I wantthatone. It has just the right colors.”

Marc’s tone turns dry. “We don’t always get what we want. He’s got just as much right to it as you do—more, since he had it first. Don’t you have enough already withoutmaking yourself into a bully? Is that how you’d want your empress to see you behaving?”

The boy opens his mouth, closes it again, and ducks his head with a chagrinned expression. “No. Sorry, sir. You won’t tell her?”

“If you stop making trouble, I see no reason to mention it.”

As the court boy darts off, Marc shifts his attention to the commoner. The other boy stares up at him, still hugging his treasure close.

Marc’s voice softens. “Are you all right? He shoved you pretty hard before I could step in.”

The boy shrugs, but his shoulders relax with the motion. “No big deal. I’m fine.” He hesitates. “Thank you.”

Marc pats his head—a little awkwardly, but his voice is warm. “The security of the empire should be for everyone, not just the people from the palace.”

“Yeah.” The kid flashes a smile at him and lopes off in a different direction.

I hold myself still by the wall of the tent, observing Marc watch the kid he defended disappear into the crowd. A trace of a smile touches the corner of his lips in my view.

He looks actually… pleased. And I’ll be damned if he isn’t still stunningly handsome with that delighted satisfaction lighting his mottled face.

He couldn’t have known I’d witness his intervention. He did it solely because enforcing fairness mattered to him.

A flutter of warmth spreads through my chest. I swallow thickly against the sensation, but it isn’t totally new.

There’ve been other moments when I caught glimpses of goodness, kindness, and understanding in my husband, even before the fire. I haven’t let myself think of them often, but I shouldn’t act as if they never happened.

There was his recognition of how horrible Linus hadtreated Lavira’s children after we argued about it—and the steps he took to fix his brother’s horrible scheme. The birthday feast and ball he put on in my honor, with all my favorite foods and symbols of my godlen. The softened punishment he gave Neven after the wretched trial in Goric.

That evening on the road when he promised to do whatever it took to see me safe… and told me so tenderly that he loved me.

Perhaps I’d have seen more of that side of him if his twin hadn’t been ruining what little trust we were able to build in between our moments together.

But Linus isn’t here anymore… and Marc is deciding who he’s going to be from here on. He’s accepted his new, much diminished role with barely a complaint. I think he’s actually listened to the criticisms I’ve made.

That the man I married has become the man I’m seeing in front of me… It’s rather incredible, isn’t it?

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