A Conspiracy of Whispers by Ada Harper

Author:Ada Harper [Harper, Ada]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-24T14:23:17+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Olivia watched the races rapt. If there’d been glass, her face would have been pressed up to it. Galen suspected it was an interest that would give him terrors in the future, but it was a price worth paying for the way joy and wonder bloomed across her face, softening the tension around her eyes that she’d carried, as if braced for an ambush, since they’d landed. It’d had the same effect on him. He alternated between watching the races and the way her eyes danced, the way the warm afternoon plucked freckles up out of her sun-warmed skin.

Nothing that good could last, of course. Galen noted an attaché trying to catch his attention. He caught Maris’s eye and knew she’d keep Olivia out of politics and off ledges. That kept the worst of his anxiety at bay as he left her, promising to find her later.

Still, Galen carried his unease in his stomach. Something about the court was off. Even a breezy showboat event like today felt off. The greetings were too chummy, the small talk as discordant as the clink of glasses. It was the strained song of power unsettled, crowns uneasy on heads. It sent him searching for the only crowned head that mattered. Sabine had been holding back earlier. He needed to draw out of her what kind of war she’d been waging without him.

You’d think the empress would be easy to find at her own event; you’d be wrong. Sabine’s festivities functioned like a hunting party. Invite all the wealth and power of the Empire into one building, fill it with an abundance of every luxury, then elevate her presence as the most elusive commodity of all. The result was that even disinterested nobles and diplomats had to expend the effort of seeking her out, to be able to say they had a few words with the empress. It was a clever way of turning small talk into currency that held together fractious houses.

But it was a pain in the ass when you just wanted to talk to your sister.

Inevitably, Galen was made to wait until Sabine found him. He turned the corner to a surprisingly empty hallway and a rustle of fabrics approached behind him.

“Dear brother. Where ever have you been hiding yourself?” Sabine appeared at the arch draped in glimsilk, with sleeves laced up with that ridiculous silver thread that was so fine Galen feared to breathe around it.

“Here and there.” Galen bowed the small amount required. She was his sister, but also the empress. Two knightsguard lingered behind her like watchful shadows, their intricate weaves of chys armor gleaming like a hidden blade, silk covering their eyes. The blindfold was symbolic: ever present guards that watched all, but saw nothing of the ruler’s secrets. Sabine paid them no mind, sweeping in for a hug. The way she squeezed his ribs told him that, whatever duel they were about to have—and every conversation with Sabine was a duel—she was genuinely relieved to see him home.

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