Page 6 of Beneath the Haunting Sea

Talia cast a regretful look at the refreshments—squares of lamb glazedwith honey, sugared cakes and mango sweetmeats, iced wine and spiced tea—and turned to accept the outstretched hand of a courtier’s sweaty son who was just straightening up from a bow.

She danced for what felt like hours, the heat in the ballroom barely broken by the jasmine-drenched night air blowing in from the balcony. She thought the lilies in her hair must be wilting already. Every so oftenshe glanced at the empty ivory thrones and felt a fresh wave of panic.Wherewas the Emperor?

And what about Eda? She wasn’t here either.

Her absence was probably purposeful—it would make a statement. The court would notice that Talia did not have the support of the Countess of Evalla when she was announced as the Emperor’s heir, which was politically disastrous. Evalla was the most powerfulprovince in Enduena, boasting its own private army and navy, and it was one of the largest trading hubs in the world. Without Eda on her side—

Gods above, did Eda already know about the Emperor’s announcement? Wasthatthe reason she’d failed to come?

Talia excused herself from her latest partner and went to find her mother, who was standing near the balcony with a cup of wine in her hand, speakingto an attendant. Whatever the attendant was saying made her mother’s face smooth over into that courtier’s mask that meant she didn’t care to broadcast her feelings. The attendant bowed and slipped away, and Talia stepped up to her mother.

“Is the Emperor coming?”

Her mother shook her head, a hardness coming into her eyes. “He’s very ill and can’t leave his rooms. You’ll have to make the announcementyourself.”

“What?”Talia hissed. Her stomach turned over, and she suddenly regretted every single bite of food she’d ever eaten.

Her mother’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “You’ll be fine. Just give your speech like you’ve been practicing, and explain at the end that the Emperor couldn’t be here.”

“I’m not telling the entire Enduenan court I’m their next Empress. I can’t announcemyself.”

“You have to. The Emperor’s already signed the necessary documents to prove your claim. We’ll show them to the court tomorrow.”

“Mama—”

But her mother had already grabbed her arm and was steering her toward the dais.

She felt like the walls were closing in around her, squeezing all the breath out of her lungs. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t make me do this.”

But then they were standing onthe dais, just in front of the thrones, and her mother was smiling brilliantly at the mass of courtiers and calling for quiet.

Talia swallowed, fixed in that spot on the dais and blinking out at the crowd, her speech skittering through her mind in the wrong order. She searched for Ayah but couldn’t find her.

“It is my great honor to present to you my daughter, Talia Dahl-Saida.”

That was hercue. But every word she had ever known had gone completely from her head.

The courtiers waited, a sea of whispering skirts and silk sashes and elegant jackets. They shifted where they stood, wine glasses in their hands. They would toast her health when she finished speaking. If she spoke at all.

“Talia?”

What was she supposed to say? Why wasn’t the Emperor here to do it for her?

She finallyfound Ayah in the mass of courtiers, and her bright smile gave Talia enough courage to begin.

“Friends and—friends and honored guests.” She bunched her skirt in one hand, crushing the delicate material, and went on: “It is—it is my great privilege to accept the—the responsibility that—”

Away down in the city she heard bells, clamoring suddenly from the spired towers, all of them ringing at once:alarm bells. It couldn’t be a storm coming—it wasn’t the season, and the night had been clear.

Talia shot a panicked look at her mother, who nodded tensely for her to continue. But she’d lost her place and had to start over.

“Friends and honored guests. It is my great privilege to accept the responsibility of—of the Emperor’s heir and future—future Empress of Enduena. I—I swear to—”

The bellsgrew louder and louder as the wind blew their jangling music into the ballroom.

She fought to go on: “I swear to uphold the honor of the Empire, enforce its laws, and serve it to the best of my ability, as long as—”

Another gust of wind tore through the room, so strong it ripped a lily loose from Talia’s braids. The flower fell, quiet and spinning, to the gold-and-white marble floor. She staredat it, feeling strangely outside of herself.

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