Shadow War Part 25

"I don't," Elandra said curtly. She had seen this trick pulled before at her father's court. A jeweler would fas.h.i.+on something extra and send it in among the rest of the order. If it was accepted, he would then pad the bill accordingly. And he would use its acceptance to solicit more orders. "I do not like it at all," she said. "I do not wish to wear it. If the emperor did not order it for me, then it may be returned to its maker."

"But-but, Majesty!" the woman protested nervously. "It's design was chosen by the emperor."

"What do you mean?" Elandra demanded. "You speak in riddles. Either he ordered it, or he did not. Are you saying he chose this design, then changed his mind and did not request it to be made?"

"No. It was made to his order. I mean, another was made to his order."

Elandra looked at the woman in silence. By now, the woman was perspiring and knotting her fingers together.

She looked as though she wished to be swallowed by the floor.

When Elandra said nothing, she gulped and began wringing her hands.

"I'm sorry, Majesty. We thought it would please you. It was made up in garnets first, simple, inexpensive stones, but see how much finer it is with rubies?"

Elandra refused to look at it when the woman held it up. "For whom was the garnet necklace made?" she asked coldly, although already she guessed.

The woman's face looked bloodless. "The emperor wished to give it as a gift. He often-"

"I see," Elandra said, her voice like ice. The ladies in waiting watched in bright antic.i.p.ation. "He often gives baubles such as this to his concubines."

The woman licked her lips and nodded. "Well, not exactly like it. I mean, the rubies are very fine stones. The jeweler thought that since the emperor had commissioned the design, it could be used-"

"This jeweler thought that her Imperial Majesty the Empress Elandra would be happy wearing the same necklace as a mere concubine," Elandra said stonily. "This jeweler is a fool."

"Majesty, forgive-"

"No. Why should I forgive what is a blatant insult?" Elandra said. "Who is this jeweler? What is his name?"

The woman's eyes darted this way and that, but there was no escape for her. "P-Pelton, of Fountain Street. He does very fine work. He always pleases the-"

"He does not please me. How much did he bribe you to bring this to me?"

The woman gasped, but Elandra held her pinned with a stony gaze.

"No more than the others-" The woman broke off what she was saying and began to cry."

"Get out," Elandra said, and turned her back.

Guards took the woman away. Elandra refused to look at her or listen to her pleas for mercy. She stood, opening the other jewel cases and picking through the offerings. Everything was new. She realized they were all from jewelers like Pelton, eager to establish custom with her by making these gifts.

Elandra knew that any or all of them could have pitfalls such as the one she'd just avoided. How was she to know whether these designs were submitted in honor to please her or to trick her or to insult her? The wisest course was to avoid all of them, yet she could not go forth without jewelry. Although she preferred simple adornment, she must not look like anything less than an empress today. She was still on trial. There were still innumerable mistakes she could make.

"Is this all?" she asked finally.

One of the a.s.sistants crept forward, eyes down, standing hunched as though in a permanent half-bow. "Yes, Majesty."

"But all of this is new."

"All the jewelers in the city have sent their wares for your selection."

"I don't want these," Elandra said.

Everyone gaped at her, but her mind was already shooting over the possibilities. There was only one way to be safe.

"Bring me Fauvina's jewels," she said.

Someone gasped; she could not tell who it was. Consternation broke out.

The Mistress of the Bedchamber approached Elandra worriedly. "Majesty, there is not time to send to the vaults for them, even if they could be found."

Elandra's head came up. She glared. "There is time, if you do not dally making objections."

The woman curtsied. "Majesty, forgive me. I do not object. But what if they cannot be found?"

"Why shouldn't they be found?" Elandra retorted. "The jewels of the first empress? Are they not honored? Are they not revered? Are they not kept in a special place by the order of the emperor, as all of Fauvina's things have been preserved? Have them brought at once."

"Yes, Majesty. But the emperor must give permission-"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I-I-"

"Do as I command," Elandra said, looking the woman in the eye. The mistress curtsied again, giving way, and turned to snap her fingers.

A half-hour ground slowly by before hastening footsteps could be heard outside. Everyone looked up, but it was only a messenger who came to inform the empress that her presence was awaited.

Elandra met everyone's anxious eyes, and her stubbornness kicked in. When she wanted, she could be as obstinate as her father, who had once stood alone and undaunted against an entire war council's wishes to attempt a peace treaty. Albain had refused to cooperate, had refused to withdraw his troops, and had single-handedly driven back the invaders without the support of the allied forces. It was this action that had earned him his reputation of loyalty and valor and brought him to the attention of a grateful emperor.

"Majesty," the Mistress of the Bedchamber said, "your presence is required."

Elandra's chin lifted higher. She sat regally in her chair, unable to do much else in her formidable gown. "The empress is not yet ready."

The messenger left, and everyone sighed. Elandra sat there, refusing to budge no matter how nervous they got, and waited.

Finally they heard footsteps again outside the door. This time it was a chancellor who came to inquire how much longer the empress might be.

Murmurs at the door; nervous explanations. The mistress glanced over her shoulder at Elandra and murmured further.

Then she came to Elandra's side and curtsied. "Majesty, the chancellor would like to know-"

"Tell him the empress is not yet ready."

"But, Majesty, any of these pieces would be most handsome and most suitable. If we had known earlier, we could have had the old jewelry ready. It may be tarnished or too brittle. If it needs a repair, that will surely not please-"

Elandra raised her hand, and the woman fell silent.

No one dared speak after that. They waited, the minutes dragging by. The coronation robes, heavily embroidered and trimmed in white sable, waited on their stand. She might never wear them.

"No one has ever done this," someone whispered. "To keep him waiting ... who would dare?"

Elandra knew the risk she was taking. The emperor's temper was always uncertain. He was displeased enough with her already. By now his irritation must be explosive. He could call the whole thing off. She would be dismissed in disgrace, set aside as an abandoned wife, her reputation ruined, no prospect of future marriage to someone else possible.

Her nerve almost failed her. She found herself looking at some of the jewelry spilling from the opened cases. There were some very fine emeralds glowing richly at her. They were of a pleasing cut. The earrings would flatter her. How easy to give in. Why had she started this in the first place? A little fit of pique could cost her everything.

But she had started it, and she would finish it. If she did anything less, she would be branded as weak. Her authority, what little she possessed now, would crumble entirely. She would never be taken seriously again. She had been insulted, whether through some scheme of the jeweler or whether through someone at the palace or whether through the desires of Kostimon himself she did not know, but she would not let an insult go unchallenged. No one of Albain blood could.

Again, footsteps came to the door. This time it was one of her guardsmen, a trifle breathless as though he had been running. He handed the Mistress of the Bedchamber a leather box, bowed, and retreated.

The mistress, looking stern with disapproval, carried the box to Elandra. It was dusty and spotted with age. The leather had rotted away in places. Elandra was shocked, for she had truly expected Fauvina's things to be better cared for than this.

As the box was unlocked and opened, Elandra swallowed hard. She supposed the mistress was right about the jewels being brittle and tarnished. She would look tawdry wearing them. She didn't even know if they were beautiful or horrid. She should have never backed herself into a corner like this.

In silence the mistress turned the box around so that Elandra might see the contents for herself.

A muted glitter came from the depths of the box.

"Draw back the curtains," Elandra commanded.

The ladies did so, letting more sunlight into the room. Elandra reached in and pulled out a bracelet. It was heavy and dark.

As she turned it over, the sunlight filled the gems with life so that they blazed in her hand. Elandra gasped.

Rows and rows of small, square-cut gemstones filled the wide bracelet. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, diamonds, topazes, amethysts, spinels, citrines, and peridots all flashed together in a radiance of color. Dropping the bracelet in her lap, she drew out the heavy necklace with both hands. It was a large collar, studded with the same array of stones as the bracelet, that stretched from shoulder to shoulder and dropped to a wide V in the center. The settings were gold and very ancient, but nothing had broken. Normally she would never have chosen pieces with so many colors, but they did not clash, and they would look magnificent against her cloth-of-gold dress.

These, she knew without being told, were the true imperial jewels. No empress since Fauvina had worn them. But their diversity clearly symbolized the many provinces that had forged the empire. Elandra felt a s.h.i.+ver pa.s.s through her, as though she felt the dead woman's approval pa.s.s through the jewelry to her. She had been right to insist on this. She knew it in her bones.

There was silence around her. Elandra stopped admiring the jewelry long enough to glance at her ladies with an open challenge in her eyes.

"I am late," she said. "Attend me with these final touches."

Her command galvanized them into action. The necklace was fastened for her, as was the bracelet. She found rings to match. They were slightly too large for her tapering fingers, but she slipped them on anyway. The long earrings swayed heavily against her neck.

Elandra rose to her feet, and they brought her a mirror. She saw herself, pale-faced, a little shadowed beneath the eyes, but a glittering, magnificent stranger. She had feared the clothes and the jewelry would overwhelm her, but instead for the first time she saw her own beauty, saw how perfectly these colors and the richness of these clothes brought her looks to life. Even her hair subdued much more than usual, and coiled at her neck so that the crown would fit easily on her head, made her look different-more mature, more intelligent, more lovely than she could have ever guessed.

Startled, she stared at herself in wonder. While she was still gazing, the ladies brought forth the coronation robes and settled them on her slim shoulders. The heavy gold embroidery on the robes glittered in the sunlight. The fur trim looked regal.

She saw all the power and privilege of her position represented tangibly for her. Elandra felt stunned, light-headed, almost foolish. Then she rallied, thinking of her father, thinking of her mother, whom she had never known, yet who had somehow reached out through the visions of last night to help her.

Mother, give me strength this day, she prayed. she prayed. Guide my steps. Help me to act and live with honor, as befits this responsibility I have been awarded. Guide my steps. Help me to act and live with honor, as befits this responsibility I have been awarded.

A rustle around her brought her from her thoughts. She saw the ladies-in-waiting dropping one by one into deep curtsies around her. Elandra's heart quickened, and her eyes suddenly blurred with tears. She wanted to tell them of her grat.i.tude; she wanted to promise them that she would strive never to abuse her position. She wanted to say so many things, yet she could say nothing.

She was an empress. She must get used to people kneeling before her.

Turning with a slow, perfect sweep as she had been taught to manage the tremendous weight of her garments, Elandra accepted her gloves and a small parchment scroll containing the blessings of Gault. She started forward, walking against the drag of her train and robes behind her.

The double doors were thrown open, and a herald's cry went before her into the pa.s.sageway, echoed again and again by each herald on station within the palace. In the distance, she heard a long drumroll begin.

Chancellors in their fur-trimmed robes, carrying their staffs of office, hovered about, bowing deeply to her, then gesturing which direction for her to turn. Looking neither right nor left, her unveiled face solemn as she met the stares, Elandra walked through another set of open doors into a small chamber containing two gilded chairs and nothing else.

The doors were closed behind her, and she stood there in unexpected solitude.

She recalled that Miles Milgard was supposed to wait here with her. He had promised to give her some final coaching with her vows. Now he was gone forever. She frowned, thinking of his unexpected treachery. Never would she have suspected him capable of such villainy. She had trusted him, admired his mind, appreciated his patience. How could he have tried to kill her?

She told herself she must be wary of everyone. Trust was a precious commodity, to be handed out sparingly. Whether she wished it or not, she had enemies. She must always be on her guard, and she must never take anyone for granted again.

A piece of paper lay folded on one of the chairs. Elandra stared at it a moment, wondering if it was another trap. Finally she picked it up and unfolded it.

The writing was Kostimon's:

Ela, Have courage this day, little one. Remember always that you are a queen. You must believe it in your heart before others will believe it. You must set the example if they are to follow.

I await you in the temple.

Kostimon

Reading the brief note, Elandra felt her eyes fill with tears. Even now, he was kind. Even if he was displeased with her for being late, he had taken the trouble to leave her a few words of encouragement. She smiled to herself, folding the little note away as though it were precious. In that moment she loved him.

The doors ahead of her swung open without warning, making her start.

"Majesty?" a chancellor said, peering in.

At that moment she could not recall his name.

"All is well?" he asked.

She found herself consumed with nervousness. Wordlessly she nodded her head.

He smiled and bowed to her. "It is time."

Before her, standing over near the head of the stairs, a small herald filled his lungs and bawled, "Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Elandra!"

Trumpets flourished, and Elandra walked forward to the head of the stairs.

The dignitaries stood below her, arranged in order of rank at the foot of the white marble stairs and beyond. A crimson carpet ran down the exact center of the stairs, like a stain of blood. It blurred before her, and Elandra wondered how she would ever walk down so many steps in these c.u.mbersome robes without losing her balance.

Then to her left came a slight commotion. Elandra turned her head and saw Kostimon walking toward her.

He was resplendent in gold armor, embossed with a scene from his most famous battle. His long-sleeved tunic worn under the breastplate was of cloth of gold, and he wore a ruby earring in his left ear. A ruby and gold diadem glittered from among his white curls, and his rings flashed as he stretched out his hand to her.