Chapter Sixteen WITCHING MOON

Chapter Sixteen

WITCHING MOON

Week Two, Day Five

Year 3000

Sachi woke slowly, confusion pounding through her as she shifted restlessly beneath the plush coverlet. So great was her desire not to leave Ash and Zanya that it had taken her what seemed like days to navigate her way back to the Empire. Back to the swaying bed in the Betrayer's flying machine.

Even now, she wasn't sure she'd managed it. She certainly wasn't moving. Was she in the Empire? Or was this her bed in the consort's tower, cold only because her lovers had already left it for the day?

She sat up, her gaze landing on the Betrayer.

There was a throne at the foot of her bed. From it, Sorin smiled as he watched her, turning over another of those blasted silver cylinders in his fingers.

"What are you doing?" she demanded hoarsely. She was barely dressed, in silk so thin it seemed more like a cloud than fabric, so she gathered the covers higher and held them beneath her chin. "I asked you a question."

"I was watching you. For signs that you'd betrayed me." That smile turned pointed. "Varoka tells me you walked the Dream last night."

So Varoka was the one with a talent for manipulating the Dream. That was useful information, though turning the woman's allegiance away from Sorin seemed unlikely. Judging from her resentful assessment the previous evening, she'd already declared herself. She could be won over, perhaps, but not by Sachi.

So Sachi shrugged one shoulder and mirrored her captor's brittle smile. "And what of it?"

"She told me that you were leaving me. Returning to them." His eyes narrowed as he caressed the metal cylinder. "She urged me to drug you before you could try."

She could confess that she wasn't certain how to physically return to Dragon's Keep through the Dream, or even if she was able . But a different truth would serve her better. "I told you I wouldn't leave, and I meant it."

"You told me," he agreed. "I almost drugged you anyway."

"And I'm surprised you didn't," she shot back. "So. Now we know where we stand."

"We do. If you're to be my Empress, I have to know if your word is good. You have passed the first test of not lying to me." He held up the cylinder, then tucked it into a pocket on his elaborate brocade robe. "I resisted the urge to take away your opportunity to do so."

"Yet you did not resist the urge to enter my private chambers." Sachi tilted her head. "Am I to expect this, going forward? I'd simply like to know."

He tapped his chin, as if the matter warranted grave thought. "It is a tad bit uncivilized, isn't it?" he mused. "At the same time, until I know you've come to understand your place here, these small violations may be necessary. Perhaps we can agree that if you continue to make no effort to flee, I will do my best to respect your privacy."

"I would appreciate it, Your Majesty."

"Very well, my lady." He smiled and stood. As soon as he'd gained his feet, the throne behind him vanished. A single clap of his hands brought Lyssa running to drop her customary curtsy. "A few members of the court will be waiting to greet her," he told the maid as he turned. "The blue gown, I think. See that she's prepared."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Sorin left without another word, and Sachi raised her estimation of the danger he posed. It was easy to see why the rest of the High Court had loved him, once upon a time, and equally easy to see where and how that love had fractured. He was charming, so much so that a person could forget that every situation ended in selfishness, defined solely by what Sorin wanted.

Easy to forget, at least, for a while.

Sachi rose and accepted the robe her maid held for her. "Thank you, Lyssa."

"My lady." There was a numb sort of weariness to the smile she offered before moving to a cabinet to begin pulling out the outfit Sorin had ordered. "The Grand Duchess of Akeisa has already arrived. After serving you, working as her maid is the second most coveted posting in the Empire. She sets much of court style."

It was the most information the woman had freely offered in the short duration of their acquaintance, and Sachi finished brushing her teeth, then rewarded her with a smile of her own. "Then we'd best impress her, yes?"

That sad little smile brightened until it actually reached Lyssa's hazel eyes. "Oh, I have no doubt you will."

As she started on Sachi's hair, brushing and sectioning the locks, Sachi considered the girl's wan reflection in the mirror. Questioning her would be a delicate process, one requiring the utmost care.

Sachi started gently. "You've said that serving me is a prestigious position," she murmured. "But it didn't exist until very recently, did it?"

"Oh, no," Lyssa denied. "It's existed for hundreds of years. Thousands. There's always been a personal maid for the future Empress as part of the Emperor's household. Our duties are to oversee the wardrobes and jewels that travel with him, and to tend to the quarters built for you in each of the nine palaces." She hesitated. "Though I am new. The old maid was close to retirement when you arrived, and I believe the Emperor thought it best you have someone young and spry to care for your needs."

"I see." And Sachi did. All of this effort was as much about control as it was about her comfort. Sorin wanted to be certain that every aspect of her arrival that could be dictated by him was. "You're doing an excellent job."

"Thank you, my lady." Her quick fingers wove braids that spilled into others, forming a complex wreath around Sachi's head, the perfect resting place for another tiara. Thinner braids incorporated delicate silver chains dotted with sapphires and tiny bells that pealed softly with every tilt of her head.

More sapphires and crystals studded the dress Lyssa helped her don. Whereas the last dress had been highly structured, this one fell from thin jeweled straps on her shoulders to flow around her body. There were more chains and jewels that the maid began to attach to the straps, as well as delicately wrought cuffs that fastened around Sachi's wrists and upper arms. The whole thing was accompanied by another sapphire tiara, this one molded into intricate peaks that also dripped silver and jewels.

As Lyssa navigated the complicated accessories, she smiled. "Are you excited to see your palace, my lady? I admit I am. I've heard it's spectacular."

"You've never seen it?"

"Oh, no. The Emperor rarely visits, and no one else is allowed. Except Grand Duchess Varoka." A brief hesitation. Lyssa fussed with the fall of one of Sachi's skirts, not quite meeting her eyes, and her voice dropped to a whisper, as if she were conveying forbidden gossip. "Some call her the Dreamweaver."

Sachi remembered the odd sensation of moving through the Dream just before she encountered the Betrayer, like cobwebs on her face, not to mention the strange threads of energy shot through the walls of her initial chamber. The feeling was even more prevalent here, like fibers woven through the wood and metal, familiar, like—

Bits of the Dream. Of course.

"The Emperor already told me a little," Sachi confessed. "And I can sense some of her magic through my connection to the Dream."

Lyssa's wide-eyed gaze clashed with Sachi's for just a moment before she turned away to fetch Sachi's shoes. "That is a very special gift, my lady. But, you being the future Empress, that makes sense."

"Does it?"

"Of course. He would hardly choose someone unworthy to sit beside him." Then, as if afraid she'd gone too far, Lyssa sank her teeth into her lower lip. "No offense intended, my lady. It's not my place to gossip about the Emperor, under whose grace we all enjoy peace and prosperity."

Damn, Sachi had almost pushed too hard, too fast. "I'm not offended, Lyssa. Quite the contrary. I don't know much about the Empire, and I'd like to learn."

The maid seemed to consider that as she eased another pair of sapphire slippers with a firm heel onto Sachi's feet. Then she rose and began laying out the jewelry. "Part of my training was learning about the Imperial Court," she said casually. "In case I was called upon to serve one of the grand duchesses. Do you know who they are?"

Sachi didn't have to fake nervousness as she answered. "I've met Varoka, and you mentioned the Duchy of Akeisa."

"That would be Grand Duchess Gwynira." Lyssa picked up the tiara. "She holds the kingdom of Akeisa for the Emperor. It's an island off the northern shores of Kasther that is covered in snow and ice for much of the year. She has a nickname, too. The Ice Queen."

Sachi had no doubt the name fit the Grand Duchess, but had it been bestowed in honor of her frozen homeland, or her own demeanor? "Do all the others have less formal titles, as well?"

Lyssa began to list off a set of nicknames that made Sachi's blood run cold. The Stalker. The Shapechanger. The Seducer.

"And the Beast, of course." Lyssa fussed with Sachi's hair, smoothing the tiny braids around the tiara until it was situated perfectly. But her hands trembled, and her voice sounded strained. "But you've met Grand Duke Demir already."

"Yes, I have." Sachi recognized the sudden tension, knew it the way she knew an old trial she had overcome but would never forget. So she caught Lyssa's hand and held it until the startled woman met her gaze in the mirror. "You'll tell me, won't you? If he steps out of line? I can make it an order, but I'd rather it be a request."

Lyssa's fingers shook inside hers. "He's a Grand Duke, my lady," she said hoarsely.

"And it seems I'm meant to be the Empress." Sachi lowered her voice. "I will protect those in my care."

The maid swallowed hard and then eased her hand away, turning to retrieve a brilliant sapphire necklace. "It is not so bad. A Grand Duke's ... attentions can keep others at bay."

As if that made the situation better instead of leagues worse. "Lyssa—"

An insistent bell cut off Sachi's words, and Lyssa hurried her from the vanity chair. "That's the summoning bell. You must go."

Sachi marched through the halls, once again flanked by guards who didn't acknowledge her existence. This time, instead of seamlessly moving between aircraft and castle, they exited the wide double doors onto a glittering expanse of stone so bright it hurt Sachi's eyes.

The Betrayer waited there, in a long brocade tunic belted over dark pants. He smiled at her arrival and took her hand. "The stone catches the light at sunrise," he said smugly. "Take a moment to let your eyes adjust. But I hope you appreciate its beauty."

Sachi refused to show weakness by shading her eyes against the glare. Slowly, the details of the palace resolved—swooping rooflines and gleaming glass, all supported by carved columns and flat expanses of stone like the one on which they stood. There were levels, each one rising toward a singular tower in the center of the palace, a delicate spire with a flat roof. Everything was white, the stone almost luminescent in the breaking sunlight.

Then Sachi saw the water. A huge lake surrounded the palace, much like the caldera in which Dragon's Keep had been built. However, this structure seemed to sit directly on the lake, with no landmass in sight. Huge, craggy mountains rose behind and around the palace. From the highest peak of the mountains, a torrential fall of water cascaded down into the lake.

So the falls fed the lake, but there were no mountains to form its opposite edge. Instead, the circle had been completed with the same ghostly white stone, damming the falls.

At the far edges of the water, Sachi could just make out the remnants of trees and other foliage. What had once been a valley gorge, teeming with old-growth forest and life , had been drowned long ago.

A knot formed in Sachi's throat, and she had to swallow past it to speak. "It truly is a marvel."

"I've been perfecting it for almost three thousand years," he replied, glancing at her. "Since I saw you at my lowest moment, a vision from the Dream itself. Such beauty in such darkness. I knew I had to build an Empire worthy of you if I wished for that promise from the Dream to come true."

What would he say if she told him what her experience of that moment had been? If she confessed that all her attention, all her concern, had been for Ash and the land he'd been desperately trying to protect?

If she told him the truth she saw, that he'd worked so hard to impose his own sense of order on everyone and everything, to tame and ultimately destroy the wilderness, only to turn around and try to approximate it with this hollow, meaningless, empty palace?

Sachi merely smiled and held out her hand. "I am to meet the rest of your court, yes?"

"Not everyone arrived on time." The words held a faint bite of disapproval. But he banished it with one of those tooth-baring smiles as he took her hand and tucked it into his arm. "But those who were timely await you eagerly."

He led her down a long stone walkway lined with planters laid out with geometric precision. The greenery was beautiful, but so utterly identical that Sachi reached out to touch one leaf, expecting to find it waxy and artificial. But it was real.

At least, as real as anything could be in a place like this. Even the weather was mild, drier than it should have been over this much water. As if it had been as carefully calibrated as everything else.

Sorin guided her to a set of broad stairs that led up. A strange vibration, unmuffled by her shoes, wound its way up through the stones and into Sachi's bones. She'd never felt anything like it before. She supposed it could have been caused by the lake lapping against the ramps' pillars beneath them, but to Sachi it felt more like the way the earth trembled when it reached out to Ash.

Was it this place, reacting to Sorin's presence?

Or even to hers?

Dozens of people, all dressed in matching servants' livery, waited for them at the top, spread out across a broad veranda that ended in two massive glass—or perhaps crystal—doors flung wide open. The moment Sachi's slipper touched the top step, the waiting crowd dropped to one knee in unison, their collective faces fixed to the floor.

Only two satisfied themselves with shallower obeisances. One was a handsome man dressed in fine velvets and silks—the Seducer that Lyssa had mentioned, no doubt. He studied Sachi with the same critical but approving eye one might use when appraising a lovely piece of furniture or a purebred pet. Something you fully intended to possess, but only if it met your exacting standards.

The woman next to him curtsied just deeply enough to warrant calling it a curtsy, but her back remained stiff, her dark eyes haughty. Even on a warm day, she was clad in a white fur cloak that fell to the stones and covered an equally flawless white dress. Diamonds studded her upswept black hair on either side of a tiara that looked like crystal shards of ice stabbing the sky. Ice Queen, indeed.

"The Grand Duke Enzi of Vinke," Sorin rumbled, waving a hand toward the pair. "And Grand Duchess Gwynira of Akeisa."

Sachi moved, a cross between a shallow curtsy and an indulgent nod. At least her time at Dalvish's court had taught her how to navigate the tricky waters of relative rank. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. You honor me with your presence." Formal, wholly false words that she was able to murmur with the ring of truth only because they had ceased to mean anything to her long ago.

Enzi stepped forward with a smile. For a moment, it reminded Sachi of the day she'd arrived at Dragon's Keep, how Aleksi had flowed in to fill the awkward silence, and she smiled at him.

The expression froze on her face when she met his eyes. There was a predatory gleam there, a vicious glint that elicited a shudder she barely managed to quell.

"Your Serene Highness," he murmured. "Empress Sachielle, Lady of the Dream." He bent to kiss her hand, and another shudder threatened. "Your glow is truly magnificent."

Another lump rose in Sachi's throat. "Grand Duke."

The Ice Queen stayed true to her name, flicking an assessing look over Sachi before dismissing her. "Sorin, you must be so pleased she agreed to play nicely. It would have been terribly embarrassing for you if you'd had to drag your bride to her castle in chains."

Sorin's smile remained fixed, but the depth of the rage in his hazel eyes made Sachi's heart thump painfully. "Jealousy doesn't become you, Gwynira. Be civil to your future Empress."

Or else. He didn't say it, but his meaning hung in the unnaturally pleasant air nonetheless. Gwynira stopped short of rolling her eyes, but her lips tightened.

They remained pressed together in a thin, angry line as she curtsied properly. "Welcome, my lady."

"I appreciate your gracious welcome, Grand Duchess."

The woman took the words as the chiding reminder they were meant to be. No matter what position or authority of hers she thought Sachi would be usurping, they were not dealing with a naive girl. She had been raised in the court of King Dalvish II, Divine Ruler of the Sheltered Lands.

Sachi had survived evil before. She would not be easily cowed.

Sorin took her arm. "Shall we?"

The interior of the palace was the simple inverse of its exterior. The vaulted ceilings had not been covered or altered with rafters or ceilings. They soared overhead, bare and stark. Tiled floors stretched out before them, in alternating patterns of white and palest gold. The wide, high windows let in a nearly blinding amount of sunlight, and Sachi turned her face away from the glass wall.

Which left her looking at Enzi, who oozed and smiled some more. He seemed so eager to deepen their acquaintance that Sachi considered whether it might be worth cultivating an attachment. He would be a more extensive, powerful source of intelligence than her maid, that was certain.

But what would he want in return? Judging from the way his gaze roved her body, the answer had the potential to turn Sachi's stomach. And nothing he could tell her would be worth obliterating her efforts to lull Sorin into fully trusting her.

No, then.

Enzi immediately confirmed that she'd made the right choice by licking his lips. "You really are lovely, my lady. I feel as if you've not heard this often enough."

"A thousand thanks, Grand Duke."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Please, call me Enzi. We shall be great friends, and friends don't stand on ceremony, do they?"

Sachi managed a vague smile that she held through sheer force of will when Enzi stepped closer, leaning in with a secretive, conspiratorial half-smile. She glanced at Sorin, but he seemed to be fully occupied with admiring the palace's sunlit corridor.

"Tell me," Enzi purred. "Is it true that the Dragon's bloodlust is literal?"

Taken aback, Sachi almost recoiled. "Pardon me?"

"That he whips his lovers until they bleed, and slakes his monstrous thirst by lapping the blood from their lacerated flesh?"

Sachi looked away, swallowing her revulsion. Gwynira rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"I confess, I myself am intrigued by the carnal possibilities, though you must be glad to have escaped such a fate." Enzi inhaled sharply, his eyes gleaming, his smile turning wicked. "Or are you? Does Princess Sachielle long for such things?"

He simply wanted a reaction from her, any reaction. He might not even give a damn whether she laughed or cried—though Sachi would have bet a truly prodigious amount of gold that he wanted her to be horrified. Scared. Hurt.

She stared at him for a moment, then turned her attention back to Sorin. He was speaking now, murmuring something about the windows.

"The glazing took decades to perfect, you understand. We had to fully automate the process. It's so difficult to create smooth, unblemished glass by hand ..."

"Yes," Enzi whispered from just behind Sachi. "And it is so very important for things to be smooth and unblemished."

She jerked away as cold fingers, gentle but still somehow threatening, brushed the back of her bare shoulder. There was no way Sorin hadn't heard Enzi or seen Sachi's violent reaction, but he kept on blathering about glass as if nothing untoward had happened.

She realized, abruptly and with some horror, that this must be part of Enzi's powers. Somehow, he had the ability to harass and coerce in secrecy, with his foul words and deeds hidden from view.

Though perhaps not from everyone, because the Ice Queen grasped the Seducer's shoulder and hauled him away from Sachi. "Stop it. Now. "

Enzi bared his teeth. "Mind yourself, Gwynira. I do have a temper."

"You also have putty for brains. Shall we continue listing your many faults?"

Enzi looked as if he wanted nothing more than to press the argument until it turned into a physical altercation, but after a moment of trying to match Gwynira's flat, unblinking stare, he subsided with a growl and fell back several steps.

Sachi pitched her voice low. "Thank you, Grand Duchess."

The woman's jaw clenched. "Nothing I did was for your benefit. Only my own."

"Still, I appreciate your intervention."

Gwynira stopped, her cloak swirling around her as she turned suddenly to face Sachi. "Next time, you can help yourself by not cringing like a defenseless baby seal. It only encourages him."

Sachi kept her expression carefully neutral. "I did not—"

"Yes, you did. Enzi is a shark, Princess . Your soft feelings are simply blood in the water. And if you can't handle him? Eirika will eat you alive." Gwynira scoffed. "You think your time at your Mortal King's court prepared you for this? Nikkon was the least of us, and perhaps the kindest, as well. Remember that, Sachielle."

Sorin, who had drifted a bit farther down the hall, stopped and turned with an irritated frown. "Is there a problem, Gwynira?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty," she answered smoothly. "I was simply making Her Serene Highness's acquaintance."

"There will be plenty of time for that later." His frown deepened. "Leave us, the both of you. I would speak to Lady Sachielle alone."

"Of course." Gwynira took Enzi by the arm and dragged him away. The snappish sounds of their bickering lingered, tense and vicious.

Sorin didn't speak again until the noise had faded. "They can be challenging at first," he told Sachi softly. "But you will grow to love them, and they, in turn, will worship you."

Sachi had often had occasion to doubt the veracity of words spoken to her, whether muttered or bitterly shouted or breathed with the sincerity of a vow. But she'd never doubted anything as much as this. "As you say, Your Majesty."

He grasped her shoulders and smiled down at her. "It is important to have allies. And I've no doubt you will dazzle the entirety of my court."

His court was a twisted version of the one he'd left behind. Looking at them was like peering at the High Court through a plane of that blemished glass Sorin so despised. Warped, wrong. If you twisted the Lover's genuine, open affection, you could too easily find yourself with the Seducer, a man determined to dominate others. Pleased by nothing so much as his successful conquests, even if they happened by force.

The parallels were all there. The Dreamweaver worked the Dream just as the Phoenix did, but it was a sad, confining version that made Sachi's skin crawl. The Ice Queen ruled her watery realm just like Dianthe, only the whole damn thing had been frozen solid by disdain and unhappiness. Sachi could only imagine that the Stalker and the Shapechanger were versions of Elevia and Ulric, predatory creatures unfettered by the bonds of mercy or conscience.

And the Beast had to be a replacement for Ash, the most inaccurate reflection of them all. Demir lacked so many of Ash's better qualities—his intellect, his curiosity. His gentleness. No, the Beast was what Sorin had always imagined Ash to be, a true monster.

The realization sickened Sachi. Sorin had tried to recreate his lost family, but he'd failed. In his hubris, he'd gathered a handful of the vilest creatures she'd ever encountered to rule his kingdoms and enable his desires. It was the height of selfishness—and the absolute nadir of loneliness.

She hid her horror behind her practiced mask and gazed up at him solemnly. "I will endeavor to live up to your expectations of me, Sorin."

A slow smile curved his mouth. He pulled her closer, and his lips brushed her forehead beneath the ornate fall of silver and sapphires. "You will, Sachielle. I can feel it already."