Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [101]
“Majesty?” the woman called a second time.
The short span of privacy had been enough. Elandra was still worried, but she had regained control of her emotions. She glanced over her shoulder and gestured for the woman to enter.
Curtsying, the woman said, “I am Lyticia, wife of the imperial governor of Gialta.”
Elandra’s brows rose. After her reception today, she had not expected the woman to be of such rank. “Then your husband is Lord Onar Demahaud,” she said.
A surprised and gratified smile spread across Lady Lyticia’s narrow face. She was handsome rather than beautiful, tall and almost thin. Her gown was splendid, and she wore tasteful bracelets and earrings. “Yes,” she said. “Your Majesty’s memory is most kind.”
Oh, yes, Elandra’s memory could not forget the name of the governor. Since Albain had no male heir, his land would be returned by law to the emperor’s ownership, to be either redispensed or sold. Until either eventuality happened, the governor would be the overseer of the vast properties. He could rake whatever wealth he wanted into his pockets. At present, with the empire in chaos, it was likely that Lord Demahaud would be able to keep the vast estates for his own.
But Elandra said nothing of this, and her recognition seemed to gratify the woman.
With detente established, they got busy. Lady Lyticia had brought her seamstress, her maid, and her hairdresser. These individuals went to work, and in short order Elandra was dry, gowned, and coiffed magnificently. She felt regal again, and the increased respect in the women’s eyes made her realize ruefully exactly how much importance Gialtans placed on appearances.
“May I have the honor of loaning your Majesty my jewels?” Lady Lyticia asked with tact.
“You are very kind, but no, thank you,” Elandra replied firmly.
“But truly, I do not mind—”
“No,” Elandra said.
Color spread across Lady Lyticia’s cheeks, and Elandra felt impatient. Why couldn’t the woman understand?
She didn’t want to explain, but she sighed and took the trouble. “An empress may only wear jewels made specifically for her by the Choven,” she said. “I am sure your jewels are splendid, but protocol forbids my acceptance of your generous offer.”
Lady Lyticia smiled, pacified again.
Someone knocked on the door, and a servant entered to whisper in Lady Lyticia’s ear.
She nodded and turned to Elandra, who steeled herself, certain she had primped too long and her father had died without her being at his side.
“The physicians have finished their ministrations, Majesty. If you feel ready to visit your father, this would be an excellent time.”
Relief made Elandra shoot to her feet. Belatedly she remembered to walk gracefully and without haste. She had lost much ground here; she had much to restore. However foolish and of little consequence it might seem to her, these subjects considered their customs important. If she wanted them to treat her as an empress, then she must act like one, no matter how limiting or chafing it was.
She walked down long corridors furnished with fine Ulinian carpets, rows of chairs upholstered in leather, and walnut tables. Maids peeped from doorways, withdrawing at her approach and whispering behind her. Jinjas scampered here and there, leaping onto windowsills and staring at her with bright eyes. Outside, the rain drummed steadily, and the tall windows stood open to catch any hint of coolness to counteract the cloying heat and humidity. Curtains of sheer silk gauze billowed and blew in the damp breeze.
Elandra’s own fear and rising anxiety constantly quickened her feet, although she tried to slow down. Despite her inner strain she managed to keep her face calm and composed, but she could not stop her fingers from knotting together.
Finally she reached tall doors at the end of a corridor. Bowing lackeys opened them at her approach. Guards in turbans saluted her, but Elandra barely noticed them. She hurried into the antechamber beyond and found it crowded with physicians in monkey-fur hats and long beards, chatting among themselves.