Calder hadn’t seen the moment when the momentum of the conversation shifted, but it had. They were suddenly talking as though the peace meeting was a foregone conclusion.
He had gotten what he wanted, but not due to anything he’d done. They saw him as a mask they could wear.
“Trenches are dug one shovel at a time.” Laius the Younger.
Calder pulled out his spyglass and took another look at the coronation. His body double had taken up a seat on a prop throne—he could see only the man’s ornately covered knees—and a spokesman for the Imperialists had taken center stage, addressing the audience in his name.
The people gathered below would see Imperial Steward Calder Marten sitting silently in the background as the Guilds spoke for him.
And so, Calder thought, art imitates reality.
It took all of Calder’s authority to get someone to bring Jerri to him.
He ordered the Imperial Guard to fetch her from the dungeons, but at first they flat-out refused. He had to strong-arm them with threats of reporting them to Teach or reassigning them before they would listen to him.
Even then, they insisted on precautions. Calder didn’t object.
She would be searched in the dungeons to make sure no Elders had spirited her earring to her. Imperial Guards with enhanced senses would search her for any weapons or alchemy while Readers checked her for dangerous invested items.
Her hands and ankles would be tied with invested silk, as was the custom for noble prisoners in the Imperial Palace. Her skin wouldn’t be damaged, but she wouldn’t be able to fight.
As though Calder couldn’t defend himself from an unarmed Soulbound without her Vessel.
Thinking of Calder’s defense brought to mind the preparations the Guard had insisted on for himself. He was made to wear the Emperor’s armor and carry a weapon, and there would be two Imperial Guards inside the room and two outside. They carried whistles that could be used to start a chain of signals that would reach General Teach in minutes.
Gas would be pumped into the room at the first sign of trouble, and Calder and his Guards were injected with the antidote before the meeting began. Jerri could be rendered unconscious in four or five seconds while Calder would walk out unscathed.
He wondered if the real Emperor had to put up with any of this.
The first Emperor, Calder corrected himself. I’m the second.
But how convincing was that if he couldn’t even remember it himself?
The sitting-room for receiving prisoners was lavishly appointed, with luxuriously soft chairs and couches, priceless art in gilded frames on the walls, plush carpet, and even a gurgling fountain in the corner. He found himself pricing the decorations until Jerri was marched in.
Either the Imperial Palace dungeons had been treating her well or they had cleaned her thoroughly for this audience. She looked rested, her caramel skin smooth, her chestnut hair long and glossy.
His heart ached when he saw her, the anger and pain of betrayal rising to match it.
She wore a simple blue-and-white dress, tattoos rising up the left side of her neck and up her jawline. Besides the dress, she also wore a mask of hurt and anger so tightly that he could read nothing else in her expression. Her teeth were clenched, her lips pressed together in a line, and she glared at him as though she expected him to order her torture.
It hurt him in half a dozen different ways. He wanted to break that ice, to make her happy again, but at the same time how dare she act as though he was the one in the wrong?
As she sat wordlessly in a chair opposite him, her spine straight as a ship’s mast, he could tell that she was determined to make this conversation unproductive for him.
He could be satisfied with that. He didn’t even know why he’d called for her.
Her hands were folded in her lap, wrists tied gently together in red silk. He was sure that beneath the hem of her dress, her ankles were tied in the same manner.
Calder waved a hand to the two Imperial Guards who had taken up positions on either side of the door after delivering the prisoner. “You’re dismissed. I will be fine.”
They pretended not to hear him.
“Trust me, I can defend myself from her. I know you’ll be watching from outside anyway, I just want the illusion of privacy.”
No response.
Even in front of Jerri, they couldn’t even feign respect for him or his orders?
Calder rose to his feet. He was wearing the Emperor’s white armor from the neck down, the cutlass he’d received from Kelarac belted onto his waist, and he wore the silver crown of the Imperial Steward on his head. He had hoped that would reinforce to Jerri that he was in charge here, but this display from his guards would show her that was a lie.
Calder walked so close to the two Guards that his nose was almost touching one woman’s tusks. She exchanged glances with her partner before they reluctantly looked him in the eyes.
“Listen to me,” Calder said quietly. “You have just undermined my authority in front of an Imperial prisoner.”
“When it comes to your safety—” began a man with scaled arms, but Calder overrode him.
“I have no intention of stopping you from doing your job, but in return, you need to allow me to do mine. Now get out of this room before I have to remove you myself.”
They backed up, looked to one another, and finally bowed at the waist before leaving the room.
Suddenly exhausted, Calder strolled around and collapsed back into his chair.
He held his head in his hands. He couldn’t bear to see the laughter on Jerri’s face. He would hear it any second now anyway, as she twisted this to show that he should have listened to her from the beginning.
Something came to rest on the leg of his armor. He glanced at it from beneath his hands, as though peeking at cards that weren’t his own, and saw that Jerri had rested her bound hands on his knee.
He dared to look at her face.
Her belligerent mask had gone, leaving true concern.
“Are you all right?” she asked quietly.
He almost broke down at the simple question. If she had still been only his wife, he would have.
“I don’t know why I called you up here,” he said instead. “I’m sorry. Is there anything you need?”
She took her hands away and leaned back in her chair, now amused. “Ruling the world not as easy as you thought?”
“I don’t want to rule the world. I want to use the position of Emperor to benefit more than just the Emperor.” But she knew that, so he added, “…and besides, right now I don’t even rule my own guards.”
“What a coincidence!” She held up her bound hands. “They’re my guards too!”
In spite of himself, he gave her a laugh. A small one.
The silence that settled over them then was comfortable. At first. But with every passing second, it grew colder and colder, as though he shared the room with a stranger.
When he could stand it no longer, he spoke. “Why are we here, Jerri?”
He expected a joke. A jibe. A deflection.
Instead, she said, “I handled myself…badly. I couldn’t have done worse.”
Calder sat back and waited for her to continue.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you for so long. I could have started with pieces of the truth, years ago, and worked my way up. But I…convinced myself that things were fine as they were. Everything would work out. Especially after…” She lowered her voice completely, merely mouthing the next words: “…the Great One.”