But first things first, she thought. She would ruin Aedan Dosiere and get her revenge. She would make him suffer first, and then she would destroy him. And if she hoped to do that before Arwyn marched upon Anuire, there was no time to waste. A word or two in the right ears and things would be set in motion. From there, they would gather momentum of their own accord. She would only need nudge things along every now and then. She smiled in anticipation. It had taken years, but at last, Aedan Dosiere was going to get what was coming to him.
* * * * *
Elation on the one hand, anxiety on the other. Aedan was torn between the two emotions. He had finally realized a dream he’d nursed for years. He and Sylvanna had become lovers. That night in the Green Basilisk….
He had been drunk, but not so drunk that he could not remember, nor not know what he was doing. The wine had merely removed his inhibitions so that he had been able to say those words to her that he had never dared say before. And some physical effect of the wine, combined with the sudden flow of emotions that he had held back for so long, had energized him, kept him going long into the night. It had never been so good with Laera. He pushed that thought away.
When he woke up in the morning, suffering from the effects of the drink the night before, she had already risen and gone out to bring him back a potion that would dispel the headache, and they had made love again. He had never felt so happy. But at the same time, he felt concern.
How would Gylvain react to this? It would not be right to keep it from him. Besides, he would surely find out. They would not be able to conceal what they felt from him. He knew them both too well. But it would be wise to conceal it from everybody else. It was a delicate situation that could easily have nasty repercussions for them both. And Michael. What would Michael think?
The emperor had problems of his own. He had fallen into a deep depression after returning from the campaign and had retired to his chambers. He did not come out for three whole days, and the servants had reported that he did not eat the meals they brought to him. What was more, he had started drinking. And Michael never drank before.
For the first day or so, Aedan thought it best to just leave him alone, but on the second day, he had tried to see him. However, the door was bolted, and after Aedan had pounded on it for a while, Michael had yelled at him to go away. Finally, after three days had passed, Aedan’s concern became so great he had the guards batter down the door, assuring them he would take full responsibility.
Michael was sitting by the window, staring out over the bay, dressed only in his nightshirt. His hair was disheveled and his beard in need of trimming. He had not washed, and there were dark bags under his eyes. He held a goblet loosely in one hand, and as Aedan came in, he didn’t even turn toward him.
“Some people just won’t take no for an answer,” he grumbled. “What exactly is the penalty for breaking into the emperor’s private quarters?”
“I don’t know,” said Aedan. “I assume you’ll have to think of one and charge me with it.”
“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” said Michael. He took a long swallow from the goblet.
“Because I was concerned about you, Sire. The servants tell me you’re not eating.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten for three days.”
“I’ve made up for it by drinking.”
“A drunken monarch is not much use to anyone,” said Aedan. “Look at you, Michael. You’re a mess.”
“Go away. Leave me alone.”
“Wallowing in self-pity isn’t going to solve your problems,” Aedan replied. “Our problems.”
“Our problems are primarily of my own making,” Michael said.
“I have no doubt Arwyn would agree with you,” said Aedan. “If you’d had the sense to abdicate in his favor, doubtless this war would have been unnecessary. No war is ever necessary, so long as one side surrenders. So is that what you want, to surrender? If so, let me know, and I will send messengers to Arwyn with a flag of truce to negotiate the terms. Then he can become emperor, and you’ll have no further worries. Unless, of course, he decides to kill you. After all, you have been impersonating the emperor all these years. But then you wouldn’t have to worry about the fate of all the people of the empire and all those men you led into the field who would have died for nothing.”
“Damn you.”
“No, damn you, for sitting here and feeling sorry for yourself and wallowing in guilt! What gives you the right?”
Michael stared at him. “What gives me the right?”
“That’s right, you heard me. You are the Emperor of Anuire, for Haelyn’s sake! You have neither the luxury nor the time for guilt. Your first duty is to your people, especially in time of war. I have known you practically from the moment of your birth, Michael, and you’ve always been a self-indulgent bastard. When this war started, you talked of fighting for your birthright. Well, fighting alone is not enough. You must live up to it, as well. You must think about the living and leave the dead to rest.”
“They died because of me,” said Michael.
“That’s right, they died because of you,” said Aedan. “Because they believed in you. But they also believed in an idea. They believed in order and in law. That is what you represented to them. That is your birthright, not this palace or your throne or your crown. Those are merely things. And people do not die for things.”
Michael sat silent for a moment. Then he picked up his bottle, stared at it briefly, and suddenly flung it against the wall with all his might, making Aedan start with surprise.
“You are absolutely right,” said Michael clearly, swaying only slightly on his feet.
Aedan stared at him and wondered, how much has he had to drink? He never drinks, but here he’s been drinking for three days straight, apparently, and he just shrugs it off. He saw the slight frown of concentration on Michael’s face, the intensity in his eyes, and he thought, of course. Iron will. Another of his bloodline attributes. And he suddenly realized it must have been what kept him going all this time. The strain must have been tremendous, and finally he had slipped. After all that had happened, who could blame him?
“Thank you, old friend,” Michael said. “Thank you for reminding me who I’m supposed to be. I had forgotten.” He sighed deeply. “And now, if you will excuse me, I must bathe and dress, then get something to eat.” He glanced toward the splintered door to his chambers, lying on the floor. “And call a carpenter.”
* * * * *
It was with a great deal of relief that Aedan returned to his chambers that night. Relief not only that the emperor was himself again, but that his own duties for the day were done. After the long campaign, many important matters pertaining to the business of the empire had accumulated and required his attention. He had to meet with his staff and discuss them all, receive petitions for the emperor, review reports of the army quartermaster and city council, endless stultifying detail. He was looking forward to a good night’s rest.
He was so preoccupied that he did not notice her at first. She had been sitting quietly on a bench by the window and had said nothing when he came in. It was only when he took off his robes and started to unfasten the belt around his tunic that she cleared her throat slightly, and he started, glancing up with surprise.