The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

49. Jaundice

I must say that the marriage candidates for our Prince come in all shapes and colours.

But Lysander is somehow right. His mimic doesn't betray anything, neither a dislike nor a preference.

The two girls from Tajir are eighteen and, to my surprise, twenty-three. The older one is what one might judge as plain. Not ugly, nor eye-catching beautiful. Somehow, she reminds me of Fera. And just like Fera, her intelligent gaze might compensate for what she lacks in looks. People whispered she is too old, while being only one star circle older than him.

It's somehow a sad thing to watch, but then again, I was sedated with magic and shipped to my own wedding without knowing where I was going, and it turned out to be in my father's best friend's arms.

Maybe parading fully clothed before a bored prince isn't so bad. In the priory on Grey Day, you are very much naked in front of lots of men.

The last of the girls is introduced, and everybody is asked to feast.

I am looking around, thinking how much longer I need to stay.

"Gosh, I hate the heat here, but something I have to admit, the deep south of Quomared has the best food." I overhear Thessarion saying to a gathering of court ladies. He seems to be very popular.

"Oh, he is so aggravating," whispers Laini. I turn my face to her.

"The ladies seem to like him a lot," I say, passively.

"Yes. Aggravating. Always trying to get under everyone's skin."

"For the better or the worse," I say, thinking of his attitude towards our husband. It's rare you see someone not fearing him. Or maybe he does, but he hides it well.

"He is playing with fire. That's not good," she whispers even lower when she sees him saying something to the Emperor.

Laini looks at me meaningfully.

"I heard the rumours. I don't know to what extent they are true, but you likely know first-hand what a bad idea it is to annoy him. And Theon's actions can have bigger implications."

"Then why does he do it?" I say, again, very passive.

"Because he is stupid."

"I don't think he is. If he were to act meek, he would never respect him."

"Our husband isn't someone who admires or respects men who are better than him; he crushes them. As he did with your father," she spits at me and walks away.

I swallow dry. What an odd thing to say.

The feast as a whole is a strange affair. The Emperor and his advisors seem more interested in the potential brides than the Prince.

He just sits at the table silently and looks mortified. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Sahib Ramir approaches me. We haven't talked in a very long time.

At the very beginning, I had the feeling that he wanted us to have an amiable relationship, but then, after he saw that I was most certainly not the favourite wife, he distanced himself like everyone else.

Yeah, well, then I maybe don't feel like talking to him either...

"Hopefully the gods will shine on our Prince to make an auspicious choice," he says.

"The Prince or the Emperor?" I ask, not even trying to hide the sarcasm.

"I beg your pardon."

"We all know that the Emperor will be the one choosing in the end." I shrug. "You certainly talked about it in the council. Who is he leaning towards?"