ERIS
I woke to a silence that felt heavy, a stark contrast to the rhythmic, desperate heat of the last seventy-two hours. The space beside in the massive imperial bed was cold, the furs smoothed over where Soren had been.
Where is he? My mind was still foggy, drifting in the hazy mory of his hands and the low, rough vibration of his voice.
Then the fog cleared, and reality hit like a bucket of glacial water.
Wait...
I sat up, or tried to, before a sharp, localized ache in my hips reminded exactly what had been happening.
My eyes went wide as I stared at the canopy. He had co inside . Not once. Not twice. I had lost count sowhere around the third set of silk sheets. Over three days of unbridled, territorial hunger, he had left enough of himself inside to start a dynasty.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
The panic set in, cold and sharp. I couldn’t get pregnant. I wasn’t just so noble bride fulfilling a duty; I was a walking detonator. I didn’t even know if I would survive the year.
The seal on my magic had repaired itself, and for now, it seed stable, but there was no guarantee it would hold under any kind of pressure.
Pyronox was cooperating... his consciousness a low simr in the back of my mind but for how long?
The whole thing was a gamble. I couldn’t risk bringing a child into this uncertainty. I couldn’t risk dying with a life half-ford inside , or leaving a babe to the rcy of a court that still slled the scent of my foreign blood.
But I couldn’t tell Soren.
The thought made my chest ache more than my bruised skin.
No. I couldn’t tell him. God knows how he’d react. This had to be mine alone.
I pulled a heavy silk robe over my shoulders, wincing at the friction against my sensitive skin. My legs felt like they were made of damp straw. I reached for the bell cord, my hand shaking.
"Send for Kristina," I commanded the maid who answered, my voice raspy and thin. "Now."
Kristina entered minutes later. She was the picture of poised, professional grace, despite the fact that her mother was currently languishing in the dungeons and the entire palace was vibrating with rumors about what I’d been doing behind these doors. She didn’t let a single flicker of emotion cross her face.
"Your Majesty?" she asked, her voice steady.
"Kristina. Co here. Close the door."
She did so without hesitation, standing at the foot of the bed, waiting.
"You and I are going to keep a secret," I said, eting her eyes with a hard, unwavering stare.
Her brow twitched, the only sign of her surprise. "Your Majesty?"
"I need you to acquire sothing for . Discreetly. No one can know. Not the laundry staff, not the other maids, not the Emperor. NO ONE."
Kristina’s posture shifted, a subtle sharpening of her attention. "What do you need?"
"A potion," I said, the words tasting like copper in my mouth. "To prevent... conception."
Her eyes widened, just for a fraction of a second, before the mask of the Mistress of the Household slid back into place. "I... understand."
"I an it, Kristina," I said, my tone turning cold, a warning edge to every syllable. "If a single word of this reaches Soren, I will know where it ca from."
Kristina t my gaze, and for a mont, the hierarchy of Empress and servant vanished. There was a raw, human understanding between us. "You have my word, Your Majesty."
"How long?"
"I have contacts in the city. An apothecary who owes a great deal. I can have it within hours."
"Good. Go."
The hours that followed were a blur of restless pacing and agonizing waiting. When Kristina finally returned, she looked as though she had rely been for a brisk walk in the gardens. She handed a small, dark glass vial.
"It must be consud imdiately," she whispered. "The taste is... unpleasant."
"Thank you," I said, clutching the vial so hard I thought it might shatter.
I gave her a sharp nod, and she slipped out of the room like a shadow.
I looked at the vial. This was the right choice. I wasn’t ready to die, and I wouldn’t bring a child into this frozen war. I unstoppered the glass and drank it in one go.
It was vile. It tasted like bitter ash and crushed herbs, a searing heat that burned all the way down my throat. I winced, my stomach churning as the potion settled.
It was done. My first secret kept from the man who had just spent three days trying to find the bottom of my soul.
The sun was beginning its low, winter dip when I decided I couldn’t stay in that bed for another second. I needed to move. I needed to be the Empress, not the Emperor’s favorite toy.
I threw off the furs and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
The mont my feet touched the floor, my knees buckled. I grabbed the carved bedpost, my knuckles turning white as my legs shook with the structural integrity of a house of cards.
Fuck you, Soren, I hissed under my breath.
My muscles felt like they had been tenderized with a mallet.
Fuck you and your monster... your stamina. Fuck your relentless, obsessive... everything.
I took one step. Two. The ache in my lower back was a constant, thrumming reminder of the way he had held . By the third step, I was panting, my vision swimming.
...But gods help , it was worth it.
The thought was a traitorous whisper in my mind, one I couldn’t quite suppress.
The door opened, and Mira walked in. "Your Majesty?" Her voice called out and her eyes widened as she saw clinging to a velvet-backed chair for dear life.
"Your Majesty! You shouldn’t be up—"
"I need to walk, Mira," I snapped, my stubbornness the only thing keeping upright. "I can’t stay in bed forever."
She hurried to my side, sliding an arm under mine to support . "The Emperor was very... thorough," she said, her voice dropping into that annoying, knowing tone everyone seed to have adopted today.
"That’s one word for it," I grumbled. "A ’siege’ would be another. An ’annihilation’ perhaps."
Mira bit her lip, clearly trying not to smile. "Perhaps you should rest another day. The healers said—"
"I’m FINE."
"Your Majesty..." Mira hesitated, her expression turning sympathetic. "The whole palace knows."
I froze, my grip on her arm tightening. "...What?"
"The sounds. The walls in the East Wing are thick, but not... that thick. They carried. Everyone heard."
My face didn’t just burn; it felt like it was going to spontaneously combust. I closed my eyes, a low groan escaping . "Kill now. Just find a dull blade and end it."
"It’s not so bad Your Majesty," Mira said, her voice light with amusent. "Everyone thinks it’s romantic. They say the Emperor is so besotted he couldn’t let you breathe for three days."
"ROMANTIC?!" I shrieked, then winced as the sound vibrated through my aching core. "I was screaming his na like a common tavern wench and they think it’s romantic? I can never face anyone again. I’ll stay in this room until the Long Dark ends and the palace crumbles."
Mira laughed softly, helping sink into a chaise lounge. "You’ll have to eventually, Your Majesty. You’re the Empress. You have a court to rule."
"Don’t remind ," I muttered, burying my face in a silk pillow.
The reprieve didn’t last long. An hour later, Aldric showed up. He was formal, bearing heavy scrolls and the kind of expressions that ant my vacation from reality was officially over.
"Your Majesty," Aldric said, bowing low. "Forgive the intrusion, but there are matters requiring your attention."
I sat up carefully, trying to look regal while my body felt like it was held together by string. "Go ahead."
He unrolled a list, his voice clear and professional. "What has happened in the past three days, while the doors were barred:"
"One," He began. "The blizzard has closed the mountain pass. King Caelen and his party cannot leave. They will remain in Nevareth for weeks, possibly months."
Oh, fuck. Caelen was trapped here. He’d be at every dinner, every council eting, watching with those judging, heartbroken eyes while the whole palace whispered about what Soren did to .
"Two. Court gossip is... rampant. Everyone is aware of the intensity of the wedding night. It has beco the primary topic of conversation among the nobility and the commoners alike."
I felt myself dying inside. "Of course it has."
"Three. The Regent Empress Vetra has been suspiciously quiet. No public appearances, no moves against the treasury. She has withdrawn to her private estate."
I sharpened my focus. "That’s not good. Vetra doesn’t go quiet unless she’s sharpening a knife."
"Four," Kristina continued. "Public opinion is shifting. So are impressed by the Emperor’s devotion; they see it as a sign of a strong alliance. Others... the more conservative factions... are scandalized by the lack of decorum."
"Wonderful. I’m either a harlot or a hero depending on who’s talking."
"And finally," Kristina said, "trade delegates from the Southern Isles will be arriving within the week. You’ll need to make a public appearance to welco them."
I processed it all, my mind racing. I had to face the court. Soon. I had to stand there, looking like a monarch, while every person in the room imagined screaming on the sheets.
"So," I said, my voice dry. "I have to face them."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Are you certain you’ll be... recovered by then?" Kristina asked, her eyes briefly flicking to my trembling hands.
"I’ll have to be," I said firmly.
After they left, I sat in the dimming light of the chamber.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I’ll just sleep it off.
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