Eona - Alison Goodman [35]
It was almost unbearable to lower myself into a crouch and drop backward onto the damp forest floor amid the heavy, hot folds of my skirt. I cursed, and pushed away a fallen branch caught under my hip. The bandage around my hand was filthy, but the wound no longer stung, even when I flexed my fingers. Across the clearing, Solly unsaddled the horse he had shared with Tiron, while the young guard attended to Ju-Long. Ryko handed his reins to Vida and started toward me, our postponed discussion in his eyes. I readied myself, but the emperor sat down beside me, cutting off the islander’s approach. Relief made me sag; I had no answers for Ryko.
“Here, take some water,” the emperor said, passing a lacquered flask. “A few more days on Ju-Long and you’ll get used to riding.”
“A few more days and I’ll be dead from arse pain.” I clapped my hand over my mouth; the profanity had just slipped out.
He gave a low snort of laughter.
Hesitantly, I smiled back. I had only ever seen him laugh once before, at one of his father’s jokes. Admittedly, there had not been much to laugh about in the imperial court. His smile reminded me of his dead mother. Lady Jila’s delicate symmetry of cheekbones and chin were, in her son, bolder and more masculine, but I could see her sensuous beauty in his dark eyes and full mouth.
Poor Lady Jila; may she find peace in the garden of the gods. Although it was only weeks ago, it seemed like years since we had sat together in the harem and I had promised her I’d protect her son and be his friend. So far, I had done little to keep either promise.
“I have never heard a lady say ‘arse,’” the emperor said mildly.
“I haven’t been a lady for long,” I reminded him. A little demon—made of exhaustion and the emperor’s smile—pushed me into adding, “For five years I’ve been saying ‘arse.’ It’s hard to stop saying ‘arse’ after that many years. I suppose I should stop saying ‘arse,’ since ladies don’t say—”
“‘Arse,’” he finished for me.
I met his grin.
Yuso kneeled on the ground before us. “Your Highness.”
The emperor straightened, the ease gone from his face. “What is it?”
“I estimate we are at least a day ahead of any search, even one on horse. Still, I advise we do not light a fire for cooking and make do with rations. The girl will bring them to you.” He tilted his head at Vida, who was fitting a nosebag on one of the horses. “She says there is a resistance group less than a day away. We should make for them. They’ll have current news of Sethon’s movements.”
The emperor nodded. “Good. I want to muster as many men as we can and march on the palace.”
Yuso sucked in a breath, his careful control shifting into something hard and intense. It lasted less than a second, then smoothed back into his usual dourness. “We do not head for the eastern tribes, then, Your Majesty?” he asked. “Ryko says the resistance will be gathering there.”
“No. By the time we go east and return, the twelve days of Rightful Claim will be long over. It must be now.”
I chewed on my lip; to march on the palace without a full army would be suicide.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Yuso said.
He knew it was suicide, too; I could see it in his eyes. Why didn’t he say something? But he merely bowed: the dutiful, loyal soldier.
“Your Majesty,” I said hesitantly. “The resistance is expecting us to meet with them in the east. That is where you can be assured of strong support.” I glanced at Yuso. “Is that not so, captain?”
He would not look at me. No doubt he did not want to be pulled into the arrow’s path. “His Majesty wishes to march on the palace,” he said woodenly.
I glared at him. Someone had to tell the truth, but I was not going to fall alone. “I’m sure you will agree, captain, that it is unlikely there will be enough men between here and the palace to make an effective army,” I said carefully. “At present, High Lord Sethon has the