Page 39 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
He laughed. “I see so much of her spark in you. I do wish to keep you safe. And your sisters.”
“I had no idea our safety was of such importance to you.”
Beyond him, the crowd was surging, trying to push their way into the streets as the soturi linked arms, forming a wall, holding them back.
“My concerns have always been for those in the south of Lumeria. For all in the south. And that especially includes you.”
“Then we are in alignment,” I said, willing my hands to remain steady in my lap, to not curl into fists, to not swing at his face.
Breathe. Just breathe.
“Should any other offers come your way,” he continued, “I do hope you’ll come to me first. I can make a better one, one with the Emperor’s approval. Keep it in mind,” he jerked his chin ahead, his wolf eyes landing on Naria and Tristan, “now that you are suddenly on the market.”
I stared ahead. Naria was rubbing her hand up Tristan’s back, her fingers snaking their way up his neck and into his hair.
“My lady, I know you think Korterians to be very different from Bamarians.” The Imperator leaned back on the couch, stroking the hilt of his sword. He widened his legs until one pressed into mine. “But we are not so different. I know you are smart and you like to read. It may surprise you, but I’ve done some reading, too. In your very own Great Library.”
“Is that so?” I asked. I’d spotted Rhyan in the crowd, his green eyes burning into mine. His mouth was tight, and he was moving quickly, keeping pace with the progress of the litter, sliding in and out of open spaces, pushing through closely knit groups who stood in his way.
My leg began to itch beneath my dress. I wanted to move it away from the Imperator and his disgusting warmth.
“Have you ever studied the history of the sekhium?” he asked.
“Ritualistic transfers of power in Lumeria Matavia,” I replied dully.
“Yes. Quite out of style in Bamaria. But did you know they are still practiced up north? You’ll have to ask your apprentice, I’m sure he knows all about them. With the infighting amongst the northern Kavim, they’ve proven necessary.” He turned his head in that moment to look right at Rhyan and then back to me.
I stared straight ahead again. Had the Imperator known Rhyan was there? Or had his look been a coincidence? And why was he bringing up the practice of sekhium now? They were brutal, humiliating, uncivilized, and not performed in Bamaria.
“Fascinating history,” he crooned. “You see, when a Ka or country is conquered, it is important for the people to know and to see that power has transferred completely. It is also important for them to understand their new ruler is strong. The ritual is designed to change their allegiance. Did you know that before the Drowning, the conquerors would take the conquered and tie them to wagons before all of their people?” He mimicked tying a rope. “Their homes would be ransacked for valuables and possessions. These would be displayed on the wagon-tops, free for the people to take. Those conquered were to lose all signs of their status.” He reached for my hair, and his fingers curled around a strand, tugging and twisting and knocking the pin holding my diadem out of place. The gold circlet slipped down my forehead, banging into my nose. “Diadems, of course, were taken.” His hand moved down my neck and shoulder. “Fine jewelry, armor,” his eyes flicked to mine again, “and clothing.”
“Sounds barbaric,” I said, barely able to breathe.
“Quite so,” he agreed, his smile friendly again. He reached for my hair again and pinned my diadem back into place as if he proving to me that he had the ability to take and return it. “Can you imagine? Being stripped naked in public, marched through the streets, while the people you ruled and cared for pillaged your belongings. And sometimes, if the soturi weren’t careful to hold the mob back…they pillaged your body.”
Rhyan’s eyes caught mine from a distance. He was frowning, his shoulders tensed. I could feel the fury of his aura from here.
“We can be grateful we live in more civilized times,” I said, unable to stop my voice from shaking.
“Of course. Though there is a sort of beautiful simplicity to it. Is there not?”
Feeling the Imperator’s eyes heavy on me as he awaited a response, I shrugged.
“I am very happy that you and your sisters are falling into line and supporting your aunt. The Empire needs Bamaria to be stable. If you or your sisters were to revolt or put forth a separate claim, it might take going all the way back to the traditions of Lumeria Matavia to bring your people into line. Don’t you agree?”
He was threatening a sekhium. Threatening to march me naked through the streets if I rebelled or if I claimed Arianna false.
“I would not entertain such a possibility,” I said. “No one has any intention of putting forth such a claim.” Sweat beaded at my neck despite the cold. Did he know I knew Arianna was a murderer?
“I am so happy to have had this conversation with you, my lady,” he said. “Please do pass it on to any other…supporters of such an idea.”
Not all support the illegitimate black seraphim. You’re not alone.
I breathed through my mouth, my exhales in the air before me.
“Should Lord Eathan or the Ready try to stir up any trouble, we would have to act swiftly for the good of Bamaria.” His thigh pressed into mine with such pressure, I felt sure I’d bruise.
“I am dedicated to the good of Bamaria, your highness,” I said, my voice barely rising above a whisper. I raised a hand in salute.
