22
It was in rather awkward silence that Joslyn posted herself before Tasia’s bedchamber door. Within the antechamber, Lord Roland lounged in the same armchair Mace had been seated in the day before, while Anna of House Aventia rested on the divan. She idly leafed through a book she’d plucked from Tasia’s shelf. Legs crossed at the knees, one of Anna’s delicately slippered feet bounced from side to side as if keeping time with a jaunty minstrel’s tune that only she could hear.
No sounds had emerged from Tasia’s bedchamber thus far, which meant that Tasia, Mace, and Linna must still be working with the tools Joslyn had suggested. Even though Joslyn had been the one to suggest it, the thought of Tasia impregnating herself with Mace’s life essence, using the techniques meant for apa-apa herds, made her profoundly uncomfortable. It seemed to Joslyn that the women of the House of Dorsa were already treated enough like livestock as it was; this latest act seemed to add insult to injury.
But she supposed it was better than Tasia actually sleeping with Mace. And from that point of view, she could not complain. Though why couldn’t Tasia have simply pretended to be barren?
Because her sense of duty will not let her,Joslyn thought. And she had to admit she admired that sense of duty and loyalty, both to the House of Dorsa and, perhaps even more so, to the people of the Empire.
As though Joslyn had spoken the thought aloud, Lord Roland suddenly broke the room’s silence with:
“Your duty brings you into some strange scenarios, eh, Commander?”
Joslyn looked up. “My duty brings me to wherever the Empress might be.”
Anna closed the little volume she’d been reading, using one finger as a bookmark. “What’s taking them so long?” she complained. “When I served as representative for my sister when she married Karrick of House Clermont last year – I’m sure you know Karrick, my Lord,” she added, glancing at Lord Roland. “House Clermont will certainly flourish when he inherits his father’s good work. Anyway, with Ella and Karrick, it was only ten, fifteen minutes of a bit of grunting and then –” Anna snapped her fingers. “Done.”
Roland chuckled. “A woman of high breeding is a delicate instrument,” he told Anna. “The higher the breeding, the more carefully her instrument must be tuned before it produces a song. A man who is a capable lover knows this and takes his time, not content with hearing her sing just any bawdy tavern song.”
Joslyn gritted her teeth. The words angered her and nauseated her simultaneously.
Anna arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, your son is certainly taking his time tuning some instrument or another, we can at least agree upon that.”
Roland smiled indulgently, ignoring the insinuation. “And I hope, for your sake, dear, that when it is your wedding night, your new husband also takes his time.”
Anna didn’t quite manage to conceal her eye-roll. The eighteen year-old was the second daughter and third child of House Aventia, which meant that, according to Joslyn’s understanding, Anna’s marriage prospects were not nearly so good as her older sister’s had been. Most young women from Great Houses were betrothed or even married already by Anna’s age. It probably explained why she’d spent the evening flirting with every eligible lordling who would listen to her for more than a minute.
So Anna’s eye-roll suggested she was probably more than a little annoyed at Lord Roland for shifting the conversation to the topic of her own wedding – or lack thereof. That, or Anna rolled her eyes at the Lord’s tacit assumption that she needed some type of schooling on bedchamber activities. Joslyn doubted very much that Anna was a virginal maiden.
Pointedly, Anna turned to Joslyn. “What about you, guard? Is the Commander of the Palace Guard allowed to marry? I can’t imagine you get much private time, what with following Tasia around like a well-heeled hound.”
Joslyn pressed her lips together, reminding herself that Anna was not being intentionally insulting. The nobility had been raised to treat household staff not so differently from household furniture – as objects to be moved here and there based on one’s whims.
Joslyn finally opened her mouth to answer, but before a single word could come out, Anna turned back to Lord Roland.
“Did Cole of Easthook ever marry? I don’t seem to recall him having a wife.”
Lord Roland stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I can’t say I rightly know if Cole was married …”
“He was not.”
The two highborn turned to Joslyn as if they had already forgotten she was there.
“And you?” Anna asked. She waggled her eyebrows playfully. “Is there a handsome nomad somewhere in the Great Desert who has your eye?”
For better or worse, Joslyn was prevented from answering by a distinctive, rhythmic squeaking coming from the bedchamber door, which in turn was followed by a series of muffled noises that Joslyn very much wished she didn’t have to hear, even if it was only playacting.
Lord Roland raised a triumphant finger. “Aha, there we are!”
“About time,” Anna grumbled.
Lord Roland, Anna, and Joslyn lapsed back into their previous awkward silence. Punctuated as it was by the sounds being emitted from Tasia’s bedchamber, this second silence was far more strained than the first. Joslyn wanted to plug both ears with her fingers and let out a long scream to drown out what she heard.
After what seemed like an interminably long time, but which, in reality, was probably only a few minutes, all became quiet again.
Lord Roland was smiling as if it was his birthing day and he had been gifted a magnificent new horse or a suit of the finest Adessian silk. He rubbed his hands together. “Now that, dear Lady Anna, that was a beautiful song.”
Joslyn wished she could join in with Anna’s eye-roll this time.
It took several more minutes of waiting, but the door to the bedchamber finally creaked open. A grinning Mace emerged first, adjusting the trousers he’d worn to the wedding ball beneath his quilted satin jacket; Tasia came out a moment later in one of her plainer dresses, cheeks flushed and a sheen of perspiration sticking coils of red-blonde hair to her temples.
Mace nodded to his father, then gave Anna a slight bow.
“The new Emperor and his beautiful young wife emerge successful,” Roland declared.
Mace clapped a hand on Lord Roland’s shoulder. “No, Father. The Empress and her handsome young husband emerge successful.”
Tasia embraced her cousin, kissing both her cheeks before addressing the room. “Thank you both for serving as our witnesses,” she said.
“No, no, thank you,” said Lord Roland, wearing a smile that covered his entire face. “It was our honor.”
Or our horror,Joslyn thought.
Tasia returned his smile with a polite one of her own. “And now, my friends, as it has been an exceptionally long day for me, I hope you will not think me rude if I retire for the night.”
“Oh, of course it’s not rude,” Anna said, all too happy to be done with her duty and leave. She took a half-step in the direction of the door that led into the hallway.
“The same for me,” said Mace, stifling a yawn. He turned towards the door.
Roland glanced between the two of them, smile replaced by furrowed brow. “Surely you will sleep here tonight, within the Empress’s bedchamber?” he said to his son.
Mace looked ready to reply, but Tasia spoke first. “We decided we would be more comfortable keeping separate chambers, at least for the time being. I am not used to sharing a bed with someone, and I believe I would sleep better on my own.”
“The same is true for me,” Mace said.
Lord Roland looked disappointed, but brightened somewhat when Tasia added, “Mace will take the master bedchamber, the one that belonged to my father. Wise Man Fraden already had the chambermaids prepare it for him earlier today.”
“Ah. I see,” Lord Roland said, mostly managing to hide his delight at the news.
Mace turned back to Tasia, taking her hand and kissing it. “I’ll be off then, wife.”
Her smile was full of affection for him. “Sleep well, husband.”
Mace strode to the door, looking back over his shoulder once his hand was on the knob. “Father? Would you like to pay a visit to the Emperor’s apartments?”
Roland had been staring at Tasia, but his son’s words startled him back into movement. “Yes, of course – of course.” He bowed to Tasia. “Empress.”
“Good night, my Lord.”
Roland followed Mace out the door. Anna trailed just behind, turning to blow Tasia a kiss before she left. The door into the hallway closed definitively behind her.
Tasia let out a long sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath the whole time. “Thank Mother Moon and all the gods in all the heavens that’s done.” She took Joslyn’s hand and squeezed it, looking up into her eyes. “I can’t say which of us had the worst of that – me, having to make silly noises while Mace and I jumped up and down on my bed like children, or you, stuck out here with my fatuous cousin and scheming father-in-law.” She cocked her head, expression changing into one of concern. “Are you alright? Was it horrible?”
Joslyn considered the pair of questions, contemplating both how to answer and which to answer. She decided to respond to the second question, settling upon: “It could have been much worse.”
“Come here,” Tasia said, reaching for Joslyn’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss. “It’s over,” she said when the kiss ended. “Neither of us need to suffer through that ever again.”
Before Joslyn could answer, the door into the servant’s chamber squeaked open. Someone cleared their throat, and Tasia and Joslyn broke their embrace.
“I was thinking … I would clean everything we used and return it to the kitchens, then go back to the Princess, if it’s alright with you,” Linna said from the doorway.
Tasia turned towards her. “Yes, that sounds good, Linna. I trust Anna is halfway to her rooms by now, and Lord Roland is doubtless enjoying my father’s suite. But take the secret passage I showed you anyway – the one that leads down, not the one into the atrium,” she added. “From there I think you can make it to the kitchens without being seen.”
Linna nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned back to the bedchamber.
“Linna?”