Renouncing the Emperor's Heart

Progress

"Three sacks for every stall," Jovine muttered under her breath, flipping through the scrolls with a pinpoint focus on the inked pages. "From the Imperial Supply?"

Amon watched her snap a wide-eyed gaze at him across the table. A delicious rush of sensation fluttered through his nerves from the attention. "Yes."

"He's never going to pass this."

"Won't stop me from trying."

Although still skeptical, a hint of amusement scattered across her lovely face.

"It's outrageous," Elias chimed in from his left, keeping his hands busy with an apple knife and a small block of wood he expertly carved into a small figurine. "I like it."

"The Council won't like it," Erin quietly countered from the right.

Elias smirked, raising his brow at her rare assertion. "Exactly. That's the beauty of it."

Erin narrowed her eyes. "No matter how many members of the Western Faction are favored by the Grand Duke, they are still nobles. The proposal won't even make it to the Emperor."

"Care to bet on it?"

"Do you gamble on everything?"

Though their mildly heated debate continued, Jovine solely kept her eyes on him. Amon knew she was waiting for him to speak, to explain the absurdity that he couldn't deny. But if it could keep her eyes on him for a little while longer, he was content to keep quiet.

She tilted her head, wordlessly urging him to break the tension in the room.

His fingers flexed beneath the marble table, recklessly directing the soft breeze that drifted through the open window in her Drawing Room. Already content with his intended trajectory, it settled easily around her neck, ruffling her golden hair.

Jovine twitched, her pointed gaze pinning him down with suspicion when it circled her head.

Amon suppressed a smile.

It still astounded him that she was privy to his secret, allowing the wind to touch her as it yearned to reach out. When her fingers tried grasping the air, a thrum of satisfaction rippled through his body. He could sit here all day, with her eyes on his face and her touch in the wind.

But her pale complexion, the dark circles under her weary eyes, and the concern that she seemed to be losing too much weight broke him out of the stupor.

She was tired. Overworked for the past month as they tried mending the cracks in the Empire. With one last caress at her cheek, Amon straightened. "The nobles will resist it."

The room quieted.

"By hoarding the majority of grains and oil and purchasing every available ration, they've been driving the prices up in the cities. Cornering the markets with their abundance of wealth," he continued.

"And forcing citizens to sell their land for a mere sack of flour," Jovine added, a thread of anger lacing her soft tone.

"Exactly. The shortage of food is not only their show of affluence but a means of profit."

Jovine nodded in agreement. "And you're proposing we release the Palace supply of food to the markets?"

"Yes. Drive the prices down enough for the people and introduce a plentiful stock of food."

Elias chuckled. "The nobles would lose an obscene amount of money. I like the way your mind works, Feyras."

Amon smiled, raising a brow at Jovine with a newfound confidence. Her own brother approved — it did great for his conviction.