The Diplomat (27 page)

“I’ll let you go, then,” said Jalaya, her lips still bent in a tiny frown. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Elise.”

“I’m sorry if you did too,” said Elise, crossing her arms and staring down the corridor. Jalaya gave Rema a parting kiss on the lips before padding down the corridor. Rema tried not to watch her leave, but it was hard not to be captivated by the movement of her hips beneath that skirt. Diplomat or not, she’d have trouble getting out of this one.

Artunos coughed again, and they resumed their procession through the ornate splendor of the palace. Elise had stopped marveling at her surroundings and instead glared into the distance as she walked. Rema reached tentatively for her arm, and Elise twisted away. Damn it all—didn’t she see that this was no time for childishness?

After much walking, they emerged into a small courtyard. Two grey trees stood beside a pale wooden door, the entrance to Ormun’s meeting chambers. “Is he expecting me?” said Rema.

“More or less,” said Artunos. “He has company, but you’ll take precedent, as always.”

“I’ll let you get back to your duties. Thank you for the escort, Artunos. We’ll talk later.”

“Yes. We will. What shall I do with this trunk?”

“Place it by the door, and I’ll carry it out when we’re done. If you want to do me a favor, you can take my own luggage to my chambers. Here’s the key.”

“You’ll let me touch your precious luggage? These are strange times then.” Artunos bowed to both women, pulled his cloak around him and wandered away with Rema’s luggage trundling behind him.

Rema sighed as she returned her attention to the petulant Elise. “Ormun is on the other side of this door. Are you ready?”

Elise hummed noncommittally and inspected her nails.

“I’m sorry, Elsie,” said Rema. “We’ll talk about Jalaya later. I just need to know you won’t say anything reckless.”

Elise put a hand on her hip. “I’ll say what I please, Remela.”

Anxiety tightened around Rema’s heart. “Please try to be restrained. Don’t talk back to him. In fact, don’t talk to him at all unless he initiates it. Keep your answers short and civil.”

Elise tossed her hair and looked away. Rema hesitated, every part of her now heavy with dread. “Please, Elsie,” she said, and she opened the door.

Chapter Nineteen

The meeting chamber was one of the most pleasant rooms in the palace. Its circular walls were broken by numerous slanted windows that let in light, fresh air and the fragile scents of the gardens, and it was bare of furniture but for two crescent tables. At the far end of the room, various petty officials stood with their heads down while Haran, the imperial judge, argued with Sothis, the minister of war.

Ormun was between them, looking back and forth with each exchange. He always dressed plainly, and that day he had chosen a simple brown tabard over red breeches. He was not especially tall, about Rema’s own height, and though he was powerfully built, his features were delicate; his lips seemed always on the edge of a smile, and his light blue eyes were deceptively suggestive of sensitivity. He appeared a little less than his thirty years, though his closely-cropped brown hair receded nearly to the top of his head. As always, the sight of him made Rema shiver, the way she would if a spider writhed unexpectedly near her face.

“We have to send a message,” Haran said, beating his fist into his palm. He was a tall man in his fifties, long-chinned and sunken-cheeked, with pale green eyes alive with fury and intelligence. His opponent, Sothis, was an ailing man of similar age, shrunken through chronic illness. Rather than temper, his expression showed only a tired patience.

“Then write them a letter,” said Sothis. He leaned against a table for support as he spoke. “Our best legions are still in Molon, recovering from our most brutal conquest in recent memory. Half the cannons broke down on the march, and there’s only enough gunpowder to load half again of the remainder. We need weeks to forge more swords and spears, some of our best captains died on the field, and if we leave the Molonese now, they’re liable to rebel.”

“Urandal was conquered once. Are you telling me you can’t send some troops in there to remind them? They hardly have a military or government of their own anymore.”

“They were once a republic. Your dictatorial heart knows nothing about such polities. They survive on the will and fury of their people’s militia, and at present they are very furious indeed.”

Ormun yawned. As he stretched his neck back, he noticed Rema in the doorway. “Rema!” he said, interrupting Haran’s spirited rebuttal. “Haran, Sothis, go stand silently in the corner. We’ll deal with your nonsense later. Rema, dear, come in.”

Rema strode into the chamber. “Ormun. Has everything fallen apart in my absence?”

Ormun responded with a mellow laugh and met her halfway across the room. “It’s good to see you again. I tire of these toadies always agreeing to everything I say.”

“If you weren’t so quick to punish dissenters, you wouldn’t have so many sycophants.”

“As quick to scold as always.” Ormun pressed a finger to his lips as he examined Elise. “Rema, Rema, Rema. What an odd gem you’ve brought me. What’s her name again?”

“Elise. As you can see, the agreement with Danosha was successful. We should send troops immediately—”

“Yes, yes, that. Sothis can take care of that later. For now, let’s take a look at this unusual creature. Elise, you say? What’s her house again?”

“Danarian. By the blood of her father Cedrin and mother Talitha, the thirty-fourth monarchs of the Kingdom of Danosha, she is a princess of true and pure lineage.” Elise rolled her eyes, but Ormun seemed not to notice. Rema battled the urge to reach out to Elise and pinch her. Damn that childish petulance.

“Let’s hear her talk. Elise, how do you like my palace?”

“I was disappointed,” said Elise, insolence worming through her voice. “Apparently your walls aren’t really solid gold at all.”

“Interesting.” Ormun stroked his chin. “She’s quite tall for a woman, isn’t she? Just as tall as you, Rema. Good handfuls of flesh on her too. We’ll have to get that mess of hair cut, but those eyes, though. Quite special. Not one of my other wives has silver eyes.”

“My eyes are grey. It’s hardly unusual.”

Rema waited for Ormun’s anger. “My dear,” he said. “Please wait your turn.” His gaze had grown colder, but there was no sign yet of the twisting muscle in his cheek that always marked the beginning of his anger. He turned his attention back to Rema. “This court has been a mess since you left, dear. Haran skulks about day and night, trying to turn me against you. Don’t you, Haran?”

“Not in the least,” said Haran, raising his head haughtily. “I have nothing but respect for our most esteemed diplomat.”

“Ah, how he loathes you!” Ormun grinned, revealing his chipped front tooth. “And your own friends are very noisy too, Rema. It’s back and forth, back and forth like barking dogs. I’m so glad you’re here. Now you can respond to Haran’s accusation last week that you’re a…what was it? Tenderhearted little idiot?”

“That’s fine,” said Rema. “I’ve called him much worse.”

Haran licked his dry lips. “Remela, you can’t deny you were unwise to deprive us of your expertise for so long and on such an insignificant errand. The fate of a mean little kingdom is nothing to us—”

“Did you just imply that our Emperor’s future bride is insignificant, Haran?”

“I…of course not.”

Ormun clapped Rema on the shoulder. “Ah, how I’d missed your gift of making Haran seem like a fool.”

“He needs no help in that regard,” said Rema, smiling at Haran, who returned the smile with venomous insincerity.

“How fun things will be here again.” Ormun rubbed his hands together. “Now, the matter of my future bride. Look at you, Elise, you peculiar vision. How old are you?”

“Ninety,” said Elise. “It’s amazing what cosmetics can do.”

“You can tell jokes. Well, I suppose I can excuse one or two. How old is she, Rema?”

“Twenty-six,” said Rema, her heart aching from the shock of hearing Elise speak so irreverently.

“Very late to be married. Very late indeed. Is there a reason for that? Is she barren? Skin disease?”

“Both,” said Elise. “And my feet are webbed. At night I turn into a frog and flop about everywhere, shrieking at people and chewing on furniture.”

“Another joke. Elise, you should understand that I don’t need my wives to be witty.”

Elise opened her mouth, and Rema interrupted quickly with the first thing that came into her head. “Elise had never seen a scarab before, and she saw one on the way here, in the city gardens.”

“How grand that must have been for you, Elise!”

“I was so excited I just screamed and rolled on the ground,” said Elise, her voice radiating scorn. “In my giddiness, I couldn’t stop screaming, and Rema had to stuff leaves in my mouth to keep me quiet.”

“That…” Ormun raised his finger, his mouth open. “I don’t think that’s true. Rema, am I going to have trouble with this one?”

Haran gave a broad smile. Nothing would have given Rema greater pleasure at that moment than to cross the room and bang his head into the table. “Surely not,” she said. “In the time I’ve spent with her, she has proven to be a demure and charming companion.”

“She doesn’t seem very demure to me.” Ormun lifted a strand of Elise’s hair and stared at it. “Elise, you must be thrilled to come here to all this splendor. You’ll live in luxury, eating only the finest food and drinking only the finest wines, as befits my wife.”

“It must be hard to split the food and drink among twenty,” said Elise. “Do you pass around a glass and we each take a tiny sip?”

Ormun’s cheek twitched. “You’re quickly becoming tiresome with your chatter. I want you to appreciate that a wife is an ornament to her husband, not a jester. You are very ornamental. Don’t give me reason to change that.”

“If I’m so ornamental, perhaps you should have me framed and hung on a wall.”

Ormun sighed as his eyes clouded. “How tragic. I’ve had to discipline many of my brides, but rarely within minutes of meeting them.” He reached for his belt and unhooked a mahogany rod. From its end dangled five short, knotted whips. “I’d hate to damage your face so soon. Take off your dress.”

Rema’s insides spasmed, and a cold sweat broke on her body. Haran smirked, Sothis looked away and Elise took a step backward, her eyes wide. “You can’t be serious. I was only joking.”

“That’s why I’m punishing you.” Ormun’s tone conveyed more regret than anger. “Don’t run, please. Then I’d have to whip you for that as well.”

“Brother, stop,” said Rema, her pulse racing. Ormun turned to her, his mouth rounded in surprise. “This is my fault. I didn’t properly inform her how to comport herself in front of an Emperor. As I’m responsible for her actions, it is only proper that you whip me instead.”

“That sounds improbable, sister. We should confer with our torturous legal mind. Haran, does it seem appropriate that Rema be punished for the indiscretion of my bride?”

“Her argument is sound,” said Haran. “Due to a lack of proper care in her duty, the punishment should be meted to her. I agree with the verdict.”

“How it pains me to do this. Rema, I’ll ask you to remove your coat and shirt.”

“My Emperor,” said Sothis, taking a step forward. “This is truly not necessary.”

“But she herself argued to me that it’s necessary.” Ormun stroked the hilt of his whip. “I am persuaded. Rema, off with it.”

Rema nodded and unbuttoned her coat with numb fingers. “No!” said Elise. “Don’t hurt her!” She stepped between them, and Ormun lifted his whip.

“You’ve misbehaved again. I told you, don’t talk until spoken to. As Rema is responsible for your misdeeds, that means I’ll now have to strike her twice.” Anger finally broke through his composure, and his voice seethed. “I’m very fond of Rema, whereas I don’t give a damn about you. If I have to punish her any further for your stupidity, I’ll be very displeased.”

“It’s fine, Elise,” said Rema. She faced the wall and pulled her shirt over her head. The worst part of it was imagining Haran watching her, his face twisted in a triumphant leer. She fixed her eyes on the wall, lowered her head and tensed her fists. Ormun stepped close behind her, and the muscles in her body tightened in anticipation.

Just at the moment she expected the blow to land, she heard his voice again, tender and curious. “Why, your back has a fine red mark on it. Whatever happened to you?”

“An accident on the ship. I was clumsy around a hook.”

“Poor dear. I truly hate to see you get hurt.” The cords shrieked, and her back burst into five fingers of pain that quickly became one raging line of agony. Her teeth clenched tight, barely missing her tongue, and she stifled a scream in the back of her throat.

“One more.” The second blow was far worse, a pain wrapped in further pain, and for a moment Rema’s vision went black and she swooned on her feet. She stumbled forward, hands meeting the wall, and blinked the tears from her eyes.

“There,” said Ormun. “It’s all over. I’d ask you to put your clothes back on, but I imagine the pain would be a little much right now.” Rema sank to her knees, an arm around her breasts. It felt as if she were wearing a cloak of wildfire. “I suppose you’d better get your back looked at. I’ll send you off to the healers, and Elise and I can talk.”

“No.” Despite the pain, Rema managed to stand. She turned with her arm still across her torso. Haran watched in amusement, but Sothis kept his face averted. “I’ll stay. If she misbehaves again, you’ll need me here to receive her punishment.”

Ormun laughed, and his delight echoed through the chamber. “Once you commit to something, you never let go, do you? And that’s why you’re better than any of these spineless lackeys.” He frowned at Elise. “But here, she’s crying. Why are you crying, Princess?”

“She’s never seen anyone punished,” said Rema. The pain permeated her lungs, lending a quivering ache to her voice. “Naturally, it’s frightened her.”

“Understandable. It’s grotesque, though.”

It was clear that Elise was trying to restrain her sobs, but with little success. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, and her shoulders shuddered.