“Otello.”
“Father.” I step into the office I’m beginning to suspect he sleeps in with how often he’s here— pretty much any moment he’s not in the throne room or the council room. I’m not sure if he was always worked before Mother died, since I was so young, but that’s what he lives for now.
Father rises from his desk, gesturing at his attendants. “Leave us.”
Without a word, all the servants pass me to step out of the office. The room is still occupied by a dozen Guardians of the Holy Emperor of the Sanctified Empire of Constantinium, as well as their vampiric leader, the Shadow of the Emperor. Actually, I take it by faith that he’s here, since I cannot actually see him, but he’s always lurking in some shadow, as estries are inclined to do. Even the one estrie legally allowed to live.
“Let the Shadow attend to me alone,” Father adds.
The Guardians turn toward one corner, and I see a pair of eyes peering out. The Shadow nods, and then the Guardians turn and file out of the room likewise, the candlelight flickering off their golden tunics and shining gauntlets.
Father stares at the parchment before him, stealing a few moments to read. “You too, Adalbert.”
Someone stirs in another corner, and my father’s unofficial shadow steps out of it, a staff similar to Uriel’s in his hands. Though, rather than a green stone, this one has a ruby that represents blood magic, whether mortal or kinfolk, even though Adalbert can summon only what he was born to.
Neither a bodyguard nor assassin like the actual Shadow, Adalbert is merely a mortal born from two strong magical bloodlines rather than an undead monster like the estrie. Granted, he would be offended to be viewed as a mere mortal when his official title is “High Sorcerer” as his brown robes represent.
But between his adherence to my father’s shadows, the hood always pulled up to shadow his face, and that Uriel and my instinct both are always telling me not to trust him, I would not be surprised if he was undead like the estrie.
Adalbert moves toward my father, like that was what he ordered. “Your Luminance.”
“Leave me,” Father says.
Even though I can’t quite make it out through the shadow from the hood, I’m certain Adalbert is glowering to be banished from my father’s side.
I follow him, half afraid he’s going to disappear into the shadows instead of leaving the room if I look away.
“Close the door,” Father tells Adalbert’s retreating brown robes.
I turn to obey, but the Shadow is already there. The coolness that seems to emanate from his corpse chills me to the bone.
Even from this proximity, the shadows shroud most of his features. I do see his gloved hand, protecting us from the venom that exists beneath his darkened nails, though, as it grasps the doorknob.
Doing an excellent job of disguising the shiver that runs through me at his presence, I stride across the room toward Father. I can’t help but notice that neither Uriel nor Gerard followed me into the room.
Father sinks back into the great mahogany chair that is his throne away from his throne. He rubs a hand over his whitening brow. Unlike Uriel, his face displays every decade of his lifetime, and then some.
“Are you weary?” I ask, coming around the desk toward him and holding out a hand. “Is that why you’re having me hold court tomorrow?”
“I’m having you hold court tomorrow so you can find a wife.”
I drop my hand. “Pardon?”
“You’ll be of age to rule before the next time the noblewomen come to be welcomed into court. The people like to see a woman beside their future ruler. It offers a picture of stability.”
My few memories of Mother flutter into mind, but I don’t mention them, or that there has been no Empress for a very long time.
No one mentions her, because no one wants to see the Holy Emperor break.
“There’s something I need to speak to you about first, though.” Father sighs and closes the violet eyes I inherited, a sign of our Heritage Magic that itself is a sign from the Emperor-God of our divine right to rule.
“Yes, Father?” My heart pounds in my chest. Uriel has taught me a great deal that I am sure most other students don’t have access to. But I am not a fool. I know he’s withholding something. Things the Sacred Prince isn’t supposed to know until he’s the Holy Emperor.
“Uriel has mentioned the Blood-Bound bond to you?”
I nod slowly. “He has, though I do not fully understand it. I know it is a choice the Heritage Magic makes.”
“Yes.” Father leans wearily against his chair. “When your paths cross with the woman who shall be your empress, you will feel it in you like a bolt of lightning to your soul.”
“That sounds . . . painful.”
“Yet your Heritage Magic will make it seem pleasant. And that won’t be all. Soon, your every thought will be invaded by the pretty face of she whom your Magic has imprinted on. Your dreams will offer you no escape. Your very goal in life shall be returning to her side as quickly as possible and staying beside it as long as you can.”
“Does it dilute ever?”
“Somewhat, after the Heritage Magic gets what it wants. An heir to carry on our power.”
I press my lips together. “And you think that one of the women I’m to introduce tomorrow may be my Blood-Bound?”
“It may be. You are almost of age, and your Magic knows it. Which is why I summoned you. Should you experience the Blood-Bound bond form, I want you to fetch Uriel right away.”
“Uriel? Not . . . you?”
“Uriel will use every resource to investigate this this young lady, her breeding and what boons she might bring to this Empire. As well as any . . . pitfalls we might like to avoid.”
“Avoid?” I make sure my posture is straight and my words are strong. “But I thought the Blood-Bound was inevitable. Once it is formed, should not she and I be wed?”
“That is what I thought when I was your age.” Father bows his head. “Your mother was everything to me, from the moment our Blood-Bound formed to . . .”
To the night she perished. That is another thing no one will clearly tell me yet. Except Heinrich, who will swear by all the saints that my father had her executed. But Heinrich was only a newborn babe at the time, so what could he know?
Father lifts his head, and his violet eyes find mine even through my veil. “I seek to protect you from the tragedy that found me. It does not seem right that the man who shall be greatest in Constantinium— the entire world even— should be felled by a single woman, now does it?”
“No, Father.” How could the woman I am destined to love fell me, though? If only someone would just tell me something. “But how could—”
“There is much you do not understand, my son. Just believe me in this— women are not to be trusted.”
Since my experience with women is contained to my childhood nursemaid, brief interactions with a few older, married female servants, and Lady Adela’s voice from afar, I have to trust his greater experience in this.
Father rubs his face with both hands before dropping them. “Now, off with you. You have an important day ahead of you. You may meet your future bride.”
“And what if I don’t?” I ask, and even though it’s just him, the Shadow, and me, my voice drops to a whisper. As if the Guardians are pressing their ears against the door, eager for royal gossip. “What if I’m Blood-Bound to one Uriel deems an unsuitable Empress, and I am forbidden to wed her?”
“Then we will ensure that the Blood-Bound bond has no sway over you. I have been working with Adalbert on this, and he’s found a way that would free you from the wench’s power. Your Heritage Magic will eventually choose another mate for you.”
I bite my tongue against asking that he not refer to my prospective Blood-Bound as a “wench.” But I cannot stop myself from asking, “Did you ever find a new Blood-Bound, Father? After . . . Mother?”
His violet gaze snaps to mine. “Our audience is finished. I have much left to attend to before I can retire, and you need your rest.”
With that, Father turns back to his work, and I know I shall not draw any further information from him this night.
Holding in an exasperated groan, I turn and stride out of the room.
Rather than Uriel, Heinrich is waiting for me, a worried expression on his face. “Is all well, Otello?”
I smile to hear him slipping and calling me by my real name. Then I gesture for him to walk with me.
Gerrard falls into step behind us, but I ignore his presence the best I can as I whisper, “There may be a royal wedding drawing nigh.”
Heinrich halts, all blood draining from his face. “Lady Adela . . .?”
It takes me a moment to remember why Heinrich would be so concerned. Part of the arrangement that has Lady Adela staying in the palace places her under the wardship of my father. If he so wishes, he could arrange her marriage to any he deems would benefit the Empire.
But she is still too sickly for that, so it is an unnecessary concern. Part of me wonders, though, if Lady Adela is mayhap exaggerating her symptoms to avoid that potential fate. I rather hope she is, and that she continues to do so until my father hands the throne over to me.
Then I will happily arrange her marriage to my closest friend, if she is sure that she wishes to be bound forever to the dummkopf. It is one of my dearest dreams to see it so.
Unfortunately, it will not be so until I am Emperor. Father has no love for Heinrich in his heart, and Heinrich barely disguises his loathing for the Emperor.
“Not to fear, my friend,” I whisper, “it shall not be she.”
“Who then?”
I glance out the line of arrow slits as we pass, catching sight of one lone star heralding the beginning of nightfall. “I know not yet.”