Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [104]
He scowled at her. “Want everything.”
“Everything is at stake. Did you know the governor is here, ready to confiscate your lands?”
Albain’s single eye grew fierce. “Scavenging dog.”
“Yes. We must act quickly. I intend to hold a war council while all the warlords are here and convince them to support us—”
“Enough,” he whispered.
She fell silent at once, watching him, worrying about him. On impulse, she put her arm across him and kissed his cheek again. “Please recover. Father,” she said, weeping again. “Please don’t die. I need you—”
His hand lifted and feebly patted her arm. “Come later,” he said, his voice a rasp. “Bring him with you.”
She straightened up, feeling hope. If Caelan passed her father’s approval, then Albain would likely give her what she asked for. And how could he not be impressed by Caelan?
But her father’s time was swiftly running out. He might die before his agreement was given.
Elandra watched him fall asleep and felt ashamed of herself. How could she worry about the empire when it was her father she should be concerned about? Must she be so selfish? What did it matter if Tirhin kept his ill-gotten throne? She and Caelan could go anywhere they wished, create a life together, find happiness.
Yet even as these sensible thoughts crossed her mind, she felt a sense of urgency drawing her onward to Imperia.
She wiped tears from her face, then tiptoed from the room.
Outside in the antechamber, she paused a moment to draw in deep breaths, trying to clear her lungs of the sickroom smell. While she was questioning the physicians, Lady Lyticia returned.
The woman curtsied, looking eager. “Majesty—”
Annoyed by the interruption, Elandra ignored her. “Can nothing else be tried?” she asked the chief physician.
He frowned, clearly put out by having his methods questioned. “It is not a matter of—”
“Majesty—”
In the palace, such impertinence would have been dealt with summarily on her behalf, but now Elandra had to personally put this provincial nobody in her place.
“Excuse me,” she said to the physician, who bowed.
She turned on Lady Lyticia with a glacial look that did not seem to deter the woman at all.
“Majesty,” she said, “there is a lady who wishes to—”
“You have not been acknowledged,” Elandra broke in, and her tone sent color surging into the woman’s cheeks. “How dare you approach me without leave? How dare you interrupt my conversation?”
Lady Lyticia’s eyes grew very bright, and her mouth trembled a moment. She cast a swift glance around at the watching physicians and guards and tossed her head.
“Forgive me, Majesty,” she said in a tight little voice. “I thought my position as the wife of—”
“Your husband does not own my father’s estates yet,” Elandra snapped.
“In the emperor’s absence, we represent—”
Everything inside Elandra froze. She stared at the woman and had never been so angry before. Rage thundered in her ears, and her hands curled into fists. But at her core, she was brutally, ruthlessly cold. She realized that this woman was treating her as an empress consort, nothing more. Everyone was. She should have determined that from the first moment of her arrival, except the news of her father had been too much of a shock.
In that moment, Elandra finished growing up. She knew she could not be soft-edged and compliant, and accomplish her goals. She had always wanted to please others, to have others like her.
Now, none of that mattered. Her world was in chaos. Her father was dying. She had lost every material possession she owned. She had nothing to lose, no one to please, and only one direction to go.
Her gaze impaled Lady Lyticia’s. She said, “You have forgotten that your sovereign is present.”
Lady Lyticia turned pale. “But—but—”
“Furthermore, that means my father’s estates will revert to me. You may tell your governor husband now to stop evaluating the contents of this household, for he will never put his hands on any of it.”
“But—”
“You are dismissed.”
Lady Lyticia stood rooted in place, livid and wide-eyed, her mouth open and gasping.
Elandra turned her