Healer's Touch (11 page)

After the dancing, he spent some time in the washroom, not to attend to any physical need, but just because the party had become overwhelming. So many people, so much noise. He could take it in small doses, but not all at once.

When he returned to the table, dinner had been served. He’d missed the first course, soft-boiled quail eggs with chopped nuts and honey, but the plate was waiting for him, and as he sat down, a servant added a plate for the second course, scallop fritters with greens. How much of this would he have to eat in order to be polite? He scooped up some of the chopped nuts and honey in his spoon and privately hoped that bread would be served with one of the later courses.

The imperial heirs came by the table and were fawned over by all present.

“It’s almost their bedtime,” explained their nurse. “But they wanted to see the party.”

Marius liked the imperial heirs, all the more so because their existence meant that the imperial throne had no chance of ever falling to him. Jamien, the eldest, was eight years old, outgoing, and intelligent beyond all reasonable limits. His younger brother, Maxian, age five, was a quieter and more introspective child. Maxian had a sleepy look sometimes, like he wasn’t paying attention or was bored by his surroundings. Marius suspected that in truth, the boy was not dull. He had hidden depths, and when he found his voice, he would have a lot to say. But that time had not yet come.

The heirs’ manners were flawless as they bowed to King Jan-Torres and Queen Rhianne. Once the formality was out of the way, they ran in for hugs with cries of “Aunt Rhianne!” and “Uncle Marius!”

Marius was not the boys’ uncle any more than Rhianne was their aunt—the actual relationship was more distant—but Lucien and Vitala had taught their boys to address Marius, Rhianne, and Laelia in such a way because Lucien had been raised alongside Rhianne and thought of her as a sister, even though she was actually a cousin.

“What have you been up to?” Marius asked Maxian.

“I beat Papa at Caturanga,” said Maxian.

“Well done.” Knowing what he did of Lucien’s prowess at Caturanga, Marius guessed that had been an act of generosity on the emperor’s part.

“Lupa had puppies,” said Maxian. “Two bitches and three dogs. One of the bitches is gold and white. You want one?”

“I’ll think about it,” said Marius.

“All right, young masters,” called the nurse. “Off we go. Careful, Jamien, you’re wrinkling the queen’s dress.”

Maxian climbed reluctantly off Marius’s lap. As the boys walked away, Marius eyed Jamien, the Crown Prince. He was the same age as Isolda’s boy, but what a difference in upbringing. Jamien had everything—two parents who loved him, an education, all the resources the empire could provide for its future emperor. And Rory had so little.

Suddenly everybody at his table was standing up. He knew what this meant. The emperor or empress had arrived. He stood and followed the gazes of his fellows to see who was honoring them with their presence.

It was both the emperor and the empress. Lucien was dashing in blue silk, while Vitala dazzled the eye in a mauve gown over which she’d draped a layer of glittering silver lace.

“You look stunning,” said Marius to the empress when she and her husband gestured for them to sit.

“You’re very kind,” said Vitala. “I have always wanted to wear silver, but it’s not my color.”

“I beg to differ. It’s very much your color,” said Rhianne.

“When I combine it with something else,” said Vitala.

“If anyone is unclear on this point,” said Emperor Lucien, fixing his gaze on each of the men at the table, “the empress is mine.”

“We were just admiring your boys,” said Rhianne.

“The empress is an overachiever,” said Lucien. “Produced an heir and a spare right from the start. From now on, we’re hoping for all girls.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, Marius’s eyes were on his cousin the emperor. Lucien appeared relaxed and happy, thoroughly in his element. Marius was glad to see it.

When Marius had met Rhianne for the first time, she’d spoken to him in confidence about Lucien. Despite his wealth and position, Lucien had not enjoyed a happy childhood. His mother, an unhappy, self-absorbed woman, had died in a riding accident that might have been a suicide. And his father, Florian, had rejected Lucien in favor of his two older brothers. When those older brothers were killed by assassins, Lucien became the heir, but that hadn’t made his father like him any better. Instead, it had intensified Florian’s dislike, as Florian tried desperately to mold Lucien into somebody else.

Lucien had forged only one happy childhood relationship, with his cousin Rhianne. But he yearned for a big, happy family—always had. Now that his parents and older brothers were gone, he was creating that family. He’d lost Rhianne when she’d married a foreign king, and for the good of the country he’d married his sister, Celeste, to a foreign prince. But he had Vitala and his children. In locating Marius and Laelia and bringing them to the imperial seat, Lucien was beginning to assemble the loving extended family he’d dreamed about.

“Don’t worry yourself that he had an ulterior motive in bringing you here,” Rhianne had told him. “He hurts inside because of his family troubles, and he’s trying to heal that hurt. I can’t say if it will work or not, but from your perspective it’s harmless. He has no desire to hurt you, and every desire to earn your trust, your presence, even your love.”

After almost five years in Riat, Marius believed it. Lucien had been wholly supportive toward him and Laelia. Now, glancing at the empress Vitala, he wondered about
her
family situation. He understood she’d had a worse childhood than her husband, but unlike Lucien, who now surrounded himself with family in an attempt to heal that wound, Vitala had isolated herself from her Riorcan family. She had not seen her father since she was two years old and apparently had no interest in finding him. Her half-siblings were probably still living, but she did not track them down. Her Riorcan mother, Treva, had sought Vitala out, only to be rejected. Treva now lived at the palace, having been granted a place there by Lucien. Marius had met her on two occasions, and he knew she had some contact with her grandsons. But Vitala would have nothing to do with her.

Marius felt that Lucien’s way of dealing with his childhood family trouble was healthier than Vitala’s. But who was he to judge? Vitala had been extraordinarily kind to him since he’d come to Riat, so much so that he felt she’d adopted Lucien’s extended family as her own.

“How goes the harbor project?” Marius asked Lucien.

Lucien grunted his displeasure. “Not as well as I’d like.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The imperial treasury is drained,” said Lucien. “So I’ve had to go looking for investors, and I don’t have a lot of takers yet.”

“Don’t the shipping companies want a better harbor?”

“Some of the larger companies don’t,” said Lucien. “Because it will also be a
bigger
harbor, and that means more room for competitors.”

“It will be more sheltered, though. Won’t it? Less risk of losing their ships to the next storm.”

“Yes, it will be more sheltered and more inland,” said Lucien. “But the big shipping companies seem willing to risk a few lost ships.”

“That’s unconscionable.” He remembered last year’s storm. It hadn’t been only ships that were lost. Hundreds of men had also lost their lives. For weeks afterward, their bodies had washed up on the shores of Riat.

“Never mind,” said Lucien. “I’ve turned my attention elsewhere. The smaller shippers, as well as shipping customers and potential competitors, have more to gain than they have to lose. Imagine, for a moment, that you import coffee from Mosar and sell it to general stores throughout Kjall. Won’t you benefit if there are more ships bringing coffee? More importers?”

“I would imagine.” He wished Isolda were here—she understood this business stuff.

“More importers means lower prices for you, and potentially more profit,” explained Lucien. “Even better, maybe you could buy a ship or two of your own and import the goods yourself. Cut out the middleman.”

“Of course.”

“So that’s who I’m going after,” said Lucien. “Smaller shipping companies looking to expand, and wealthy families who buy imported goods. I’m offering them a share of harbor profits plus exclusive berthing.”

“I would think they’d jump at that.” He hoped his comments sounded intelligent, given that he had no idea what he was talking about.

Lucien shrugged. “The harbor will take a decade to build, at least. That’s a long time to wait for a turnaround on one’s investment. But we’ll get there.”

“When you break ground, I imagine there will be a lot of new jobs in Riat.”

“Undoubtedly. But that won’t happen anytime soon.”

Marius didn’t fully understand the economics behind Lucien’s harbor project, but he was impressed. Lucien was thinking big, the way an emperor should. Kjall did need a world-class harbor, and Riat seemed the perfect place to locate it. Furthermore, the project would have a number of side benefits. A flood of new jobs in Riat might mean opportunities for many. Maybe even for Isolda and her people.

Chapter 12

Marius climbed wearily into his carriage with Drusus. The imperial party had retired for the night. It was late, and he was drowsy from dancing, conversation, and rich food. He rested his head on the back on the seat and closed his eyes. “What did you think of those Mosari women?”

“The ones you danced with?” asked Drusus.

“Yes.”

“They were beautiful.”

“I know
that
,” said Marius. “At imperial events, all the women are beautiful.”

“Then what are you asking?” said Drusus.

“Gods, I don’t know.”

“If you’re asking whether I think you should marry one of them,” said Drusus, “my answer is no. You need time to get to know a woman, and those Mosari women are only going to be here a few days. Better you should look for a Kjallan.”

“Do you have one in mind?”

“No.”

Marius sighed. He wasn’t in a hurry to get married, yet there was something about his visits to the palace that tugged at his soul. It wasn’t the lavish parties, and it certainly wasn’t the fancy clothes or food. It was the people. Lucien had surrounded himself with a loving family: his wife, his two boys, Rhianne and Jan-Torres, Laelia. And now Marius was heading home to his bachelor lifestyle in Riat. It seemed a stark comparison. Marius had never felt lonely, exactly, but he did feel that something was missing from his life. “What about a Sardossian?”

“You’d be inviting a great deal of trouble,” said Drusus. “Broken windows, pranks. You’d lose business at the surgery.”

“I don’t care,” said Marius.

Drusus was silent a moment before speaking again. “The Sardossian you are thinking of is considerably below your station, and she has a child already.”

“I like Rory, and I don’t care about her
station
,” said Marius. “What about you—are you going to marry when your contract ends?”

“Of course,” said Drusus.

Marius hated to think of it, but Drusus had only a year and a half left on his contract. Men in the Legaciatti served twenty years and were then granted a generous retirement stipend. Drusus had begun his work at the age of sixteen, so he’d be thirty-six when his contract ended. “You have anyone in mind?”

“Legaciatti aren’t allowed to fraternize.”

One reason the contracts for Legaciatti were relatively short was that they demanded so much of the men and women involved. It was a round-the-clock job, and while an occasional visit to a bawdy-house might be overlooked, romantic relationships were forbidden. “You must get lonely.”

“The work is hard.” Drusus shrugged. “But the opportunities afforded a Legaciattus are extraordinary.”

Marius nodded. Drusus, like all Legaciatti, was an orphan, recruited in childhood so that his loyalty to the throne would be absolute. He had no family, no
station
, and if he had not joined the Legaciatti, his future would not have been bright. “You want children, when you retire?”

“Maybe.”

“You’d make a great father.” His thoughts turned to Isolda. Like Drusus, she had no family to support her, but in her case there was no retirement stipend coming her way. Her prospects were severely limited, and she seemed to know this, since she was concentrating all her energy on Rory. “Do you think the emperor and empress would approve of Isolda?”

“Of course not,” said Drusus. “She isn’t even legal.”

Marius sighed. Lucien and Vitala had given him so much, and he didn’t want to anger or disappoint them. Lucien wanted Marius to make a marriage that befitted his
station
—gods, that hated word again—and Marius granted that this wasn’t much for Lucien to ask. Lucien was building a family, and the woman Marius married would become part of that family. Isolda had little to recommend herself to the emperor. She wasn’t wealthy, or connected, or magical, or educated. As Drusus had pointed out, she wasn’t even legal. She had street smarts, business smarts. But what use was that in the imperial palace?

He supposed it made little difference what the emperor would think of her. She’d run away again, and he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find her.

∞

Isolda scooped Rory up from the storeroom floor before he could reach a stack of wrought-iron lanterns. He could now walk a few steps unassisted, but when he really wanted to get somewhere, he dropped to all fours. His crawl was so fast, and his curiosity so insatiable, that she had to keep a close eye on him all hours of the day.

“No lanterns for you,” she scolded, and carried him out into the general store. Tiwar, who was manning the counter, gave her a nod. The store had tripled in size since she’d first come here. Over the past year and change, Jauld’s General Store had earned a reputation for quality, variety, and fair prices. As a result, they’d begun to draw more business than they could handle. She and Jauld solved the problem by buying some of the adjoining property and building on additions. They’d also hired a couple of clerks. Now that Isolda had her hands full with Rory, it was impossible to keep up with the store on her own. “I’m heading home. Got to feed the little one.”