Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [84]
For all her initial reluctance to go, she now found her heart beating faster with growing excitement. A new life stretched ahead of her—one of uncertainty, yes, but also one filled with all kinds of possibilities.
She lifted her head high and carried herself proudly, determined to act worthy of the honor her father had bestowed on her today.
Still, she must not forget that the imperial troops were waiting for Bixia, not her. This parade was in her sister’s honor. Elandra must not keep anyone waiting.
One of the porters had already taken her shabby trunk and Magan’s little cloth bag down to be loaded on the rear elephant.
“We must hurry,” Elandra said to Magan and hurried outside into the blazing sunshine.
She started down the broad white steps, her veil streaming out around her.
Shouted commands rang out, and two hundred polished swords were drawn in unison. Sunlight blazed off the steel. The Gialtan troops stood in their stirrups, brandishing their scimitars. Each member of the Imperial Guard rested his sword on the shoulder of the man to his right.
A deafening roar rose up fom the courtyard, hitting her with a wall of noise.
Startled, Elandra stopped in her tracks about hallway down the steps and stood there with growing dismay at this tremendous tribute. They had mistaken her for Bixia.
The cheering bounded and rebounded oil the walls, growing louder and louder, liven the elephants lilted their trunks to bugle.
Elandra’s face grew hot behind her veil. She raised her hands helplessly to stop them, then glanced back over her shoulder to see if Bixia was coming.
Her sister was nowhere in sight.
Elandra met Magan’s amazed gaze. “They think I’m Bixia. How do I stop them?”
Magan grinned, her nut-brown face filled with deviltry. “She ought to be out here on time to get her cheers, oughtn’t she?”
Elandra lifted her hands at the troops again, but the cheering only swelled louder.
Exasperated, she reached for her veil clip. “As soon as they see who I am, they’ll stop.”
“My lady, don’t!” Magan said in alarm. “You can’t unveil out here.”
“But—”
“No! It isn’t done.”
Elandra glared at her. “I’ve gone without a veil all my life. I’ve been seen by my father’s soldiers countless times. What difference—”
Magan gripped her hand, and her eyes were serious now with warning. “The difference is that your father has recognized you officially today. You are a lady now. You must act in the way of a lady.”
“But I can’t let this go on—”
“You cannot stop it now,” Magan said. “That would embarrass everyone.”
Biting her lip, Elandra ducked her head and hurried down the rest of the steps as quickly as she could. She could not believe the trick of fate that had made them mistake her for Bixia. Her father would be angry, and Hecati would be furious.
Breathless, she reached the elephants and glared at the bowing handlers.
Then a herald’s trumpet rang out above the cheering, cutting it off abruptly.
Elandra whirled around and saw the standard bearers with her father’s coat of arms emerging from the portico. More trumpets continued to ring out in a fanfare.
Then Albain appeared with a veiled Bixia on his arm. Her gown was of green silk gauze, fluttering and stirring in the wind. Her veil was sheer and long enough to be looped up over her golden hair and fastened there with jeweled pins that winked and flashed in the sunlight.
Elandra shrank back closer against the side of an elephant, wishing she could sink through the ground for her mistake. She dared not even look to see what the troops were doing.
But as the fanfare ended from the trumpets, commands rang out a second time across the courtyard. Elandra saw the troops draw their swords again, and again the cheers rose up.
But they were not as loud this time,