The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 19 Part 2

The dress Maldynado had chosen wasn’t entirely appalling. The V-neck and sleeveless nature left more skin showing than Amaranthe was wont to do, but it was summer. Though the sun floated low over the horizon, it still beat against her shoulders, and the faint breeze felt good whispering across her bare arms. She enjoyed the rustle of the silk swishing about her legs, too. She never could have afforded such a garment on her enforcer salary. No doubt Maldynado had wheedled it from some businesswoman for free.

For once, she wore her hair down, though a braid on either side of her temples pulled the locks away from her eyes. Pleasant evening at the Imperial Gardens or not, one had to be prepared should one need to defend oneself. She could kick off the sandals if she needed to run away—or drive a heel into someone’s crabapples.

Amaranthe chuckled sadly at herself. “Turn down the boiler, girl. Relax.”

As she crunched along the park’s main gravel pathway, she vowed to enjoy the summer evening. She inhaled the floral scents that wafted from flower baskets hanging from lampposts alongside the path. She passed a group of teenage boys competing at draftball in a sandy arena while younger children played hide-and-seek amongst the tall, dense shrubs of the Emperor’s Maze.

Deret had suggested they meet at Lookout Vista at the center of the park, but she spotted him before reaching the base of the hill. He leaned against the waist-high lip of a fountain. Above him, Vlem the Valiant held a sword aloft, and a curtain of water streamed from the granite blade. Amaranthe smirked, thinking of Maldynado’s concern about a statue being made of him swimming up a squid’s hind-end. That wouldn’t likely make center stage in an imperial park.

“Good evening, Ms. Lokdon.” Despite having the sword stick in one hand, and a bulging canvas tote in the other, Deret performed a graceful bow. He wore a sleeveless tunic that accentuated muscular arms, which he managed to display nicely during the greeting. “You are looking lovely this evening.”

The suave greeting was somewhat diminished when the head-sized draftball from the boys’ game sailed into the fountain, sending a splash of water into Deret’s face. He stepped away and awkwardly rearranged his belongings so he could wipe his spectacles with his shirt. A nervous boy trotted up to retrieve the ball amongst numerous utterances of, “Sorry, my lord.”

“Good evening, Lord Mancrest,” Amaranthe said to rescue the boy from any backlash, though Deret did no more than give the lad a faintly peeved glance.

“Please, call me Deret. Now that you’ve had me at your mercy a couple of times, I feel you’ve earned the right to call me by my first name.” He winced. “That sounded arrogant, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but I’m used to that from warrior-caste types. I’ve been working with Maldynado for several months now.”

“He’s...not exactly someone to whom I’d wish to be compared.”

“Because he’s disowned?”

“Because he’s Maldynado.”

“Ah.” Good answer.

“May I call you Amaranthe?” Deret looped the tote over his opposite wrist, eliciting a clinking of glassware within. He gripped his sword stick with the same hand and offered Amaranthe his free arm.

“Yes, though you’ve been particularly troublesome, and I’m not sure you’ve fully earned the right yet.” She smiled to let him know she was joking and accepted his arm. Sadly, she could not remember the last time a man had offered her his arm. Though she appreciated the gesture, a twinge of guilt ran through her, as if she were betraying Sicarius. But this was just a dinner related to work. A chance to further their cause. Besides, it was not as if Sicarius had given her reason to hope anything might happen between them.