Her pulse didn't race for Daaynal…
It raced for Raaevik.
* * *
This damned gownwas a torture device disguised as fashion.
It had pale, shimmery fabric that half-choked her, with a collar so high and stiff it forced her chin up.The sleeves ended in points over the backs of her hands, because apparently she needed to look like an elegant weapon.Beautiful, she supposed, but a bit like a bedazzled straitjacket.
Standing next to Daaynal in the center of the Event Hall, Emily plastered a smile on her face that felt brittle enough to snap in a stiff breeze.
"You are doing well," Daaynal murmured, leaning toward her slightly.He wore formal robes tonight, in black and silver, and the simple metal crown of the Latharian Empire.He looked every inch the warrior-emperor feared across the galaxy.
"I feel like a glow-stick wrapped in cling film," she murmured out of the corner of her mouth, keeping her smile fixed on the approaching dignitaries.
His lips quirked."I am unfamiliar with the reference, but I assume it means uncomfortable?"
"It means I'm shiny and I can't breathe."
"Just a little longer," he promised, his deep voice a low rumble."The delegation from the Outer Systems is the last formal greeting.Then we can circulate, and you can hide behind a glass of wine.A large one."
"Is that an imperial order?"
"It is a strategic suggestion."He slid her an amused sideways glance."It's what I'll be doing.And remember, the empress cannot be accused of being tipsy, merely… a little happy."
She bit back her snort of amusement, hiding her turmoil.She was trying, she really was, but every time she looked out at the sea of faces, her stomach twisted and she wanted to throw up.
The hall was all obsidian and gold, the ceilings so high they disappeared into shadow.Floating globes cast cold light over the crowd below.And what a crowd…
Warriors.Every single one of them.There were no Latharian women—hadn't been for generations, thanks to the plague that had wiped them out—so the sea of faces was entirely male.
Tall and broad-shouldered, they were unfairly handsome, the lot of them.Most wore their leather uniforms open at the chest, because apparently buttons were optional when you had abs like that.Long hair seemed to be the fashion, worn loose or pulled back with small braids threaded through, though she spotted a few with short-cropped cuts.The high-ranking ones, she'd learned.The ones who'd earned enough glory that they didn't need to show it off anymore.
Next to them, she felt small.Tiny.
"The High Lord V'Keer," the herald announced.
A male who looked like he'd been carved from granite approached, bowing low.she nodded, executed the small curtsy the protocol instructor had drilled into her for three hours that morning, and murmured the appropriate greeting.
Lord V'Keer ignored her completely.He spoke only to Daaynal in rapid-fire Latharian.
"The K'Vass clan oversteps," V'Keer said, his tone clipped."Sector Nine has been under M'Kaais oversight for three generations.We will not yield jurisdiction to upstarts who think a connection to the imperial house grants them territorial rights."
She kept her expression neutral, even as her brain scrambled to keep up.She understood Latharian well enough now—language implants were a hell of a thing—but the political subtext was harder to work out.
"The Imperial Council sanctioned the K’Vass expansion,” Daaynal replied, his voice mild."If you have concerns about the redistribution of sector oversight, I suggest you bring them before the Council.Formally."
She bit back a grin.
Translation:file a complaint and stop whining at me during a party.
V'Keer's jaw tightened, but he bowed his head in acknowledgment."As you say, Majesty."
He moved on, and Daaynal's hand settled on the small of her back.The touch was warm and respectful, but it made her want to crawl out of her skin.Because twenty feet away, standing in the shadow of a massive pillar, was Raaevik.
He wore full dress uniform, which apparently meant more leather, more buckles, and a cape that should have looked ridiculous but just made him look dangerous and sexy.He didn't look at her.His gaze was fixed on the crowd, his face as hard as the stone of the pillar behind him, and she knew he was scanning for threats to his emperor.And by extension, to her.
But no matter how far away he stood, she still felt him.
