Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(66)
“The Chief of Vecturia?” Artemisia asks, frowning. “But he’s got to be over a hundred. Maybe one of his sons?”
“It doesn’t say that,” I tell her, wrinkling my nose. “It sounds like it’s the chief himself.”
Artemisia considers it for a moment. “Well,” she says finally. “I suppose it’s a bit like the boy Prince, isn’t it? I doubt the man is capable of consummating, so you might luck out there.” She manages it with a straight face but I can tell she’s holding back laughter.
I take a small pillow off one of the sofas and throw it at her, but of course she nimbly ducks out of the way, laughing even harder.
“Not that it would do me much good anyway,” I say. “Vecturia doesn’t have the kind of resources to take on the Kalovaxians. Especially after the battle a few weeks ago, they can barely afford enough food, never mind armies.”
“The Chief must know that as well,” Artemisia points out. “Why come all this way and pay that much when he doesn’t stand a chance?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I suppose I’m going to find out.”
MARIAL HAD A DIFFICULT TIME covering the marks my practice with Artemisia left, but now they are barely visible, buried under so many creams and powders that my skin looks unnatural, like a painted doll’s. It also itches terribly.
“Stop fidgeting,” Dragonsbane snaps as we walk down the hall toward the dining pavilion. “And for gods’ sake, try to control yourself around the Emperor.”
My cheeks grow warm. “Erik is a friend.”
“A useless friend,” she counters. “You would be better off spending your time making new ones.”
I force myself to swallow down a retort.
“What do you know of the Vecturian Chief?” I ask her, to change the subject.
She scoffs. “He’s a doddering old fool. You don’t want to marry him.”
“I don’t want to marry anyone,” I remind her. “But I’ll do what I must for Astrea.”
Dragonsbane glances sideways at me, a surprised smile tugging at her mouth. “Good girl,” she says before pushing open the door to the pavilion.
She doesn’t see the effect those two words have on me. She can’t know that they were the same ones the Kaiser used to say to me when I did something he approved of. It isn’t the same thing, I know, but it feels a bit similar.
I push the feeling aside and follow her into the candlelit pavilion, which looks much the same as it did the night before, with the artfully arranged sofas and chairs, the countless small pillows, the paper lanterns hanging from the cloth ceiling.
The suitors are in their usual places as well, but there are more of them now. Empress Giosetta is here tonight, sitting in a corner with a young girl with plaited hair. There are also a few of the red-haired Esstenian kings, bickering over who gets to drink the last bit of wine in the bottle, and going at it with so much ferocity that I worry it will come to blows. Erik and Hoa sit together on the other side of the room, both dressed in their traditional Gorakian robes, and a strange old man with copper skin, a bald head, and a hawklike nose sits alone near them in a loose brown chiton that looks similar to fashions in Astrea, but much simpler, without the ornamentation or color. Chief Kapil, I’d imagine. He’s as old as Artemisia led me to believe, but he doesn’t wear the years the same way King Etristo does. Though he must be at least a decade older, there’s a spryness to his movements that the King doesn’t possess.
All the suitors rise when they see me, even Chief Kapil, though he has to lean heavily on his cane to do so. The only one who doesn’t stand is King Etristo, who is dozing in his chair. I pray to the gods that he doesn’t wake before the end of the night. If I have to hear him call me my dear tonight, I just might snap at him.
“Please, be seated,” I say, smiling at each of them. “Those of you who were here last night know that this is all rather casual—just an opportunity for us to get to know one another a little better to ensure our interests align.” I gesture to Dragonsbane. “My aunt and I will be spending time with everyone, though there are quite a lot of you and there is only one of me, so it might take a while. Luckily, King Etristo was kind enough to offer what looks like a delicious spread of food and plenty of wine.”
King Etristo stirs for a second at the sound of his name before settling back into sleep. There’s a bit of laughter at that, and Erik lifts his wineglass.
“Hear, hear,” he says to me.
“Shall we greet Chief Kapil first?” I ask Dragonsbane. “He’s the only one I haven’t met.”
“No, no,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “We’ll start with the more important ones. Come, let’s say hello to the Empress.”
I follow her without complaint. Though I’d rather meet the Chief and find out why he came all this way, I’m also curious to speak more with Empress Giosetta.
When we make our way toward her, the Empress smiles and gets to her feet, the young girl standing a second later. They’re wearing matching gowns of teal silk that drape elegantly over one shoulder, leaving the other bare in a style similar to that of Astrean gowns. But while Astrean gowns are loose and light, these are fitted more tightly and embellished so heavily they more closely resemble armor than gowns. The Empress’s hair is down and loose in brown waves that have been threaded with jewels.