Shadow War - Deborah Chester [111]
Grumbling and mopping perspiration from his face, he followed her from the dance floor. The music faltered and died, and everyone stopped.
Mortified, Elandra signaled hastily for a chancellor. “Please instruct the musicians to play on,” she said. “I am too fatigued to dance and shall retire soon, but the festivities must continue as long as the guests wish. That is my command.”
The man bowed deeply. “Yes, Majesty.”
He hastened away to confer with the musicians. The tune struck up again, and slowly the couples resumed the reel.
Elandra took her father’s arm and walked with him toward a shadowy alcove, where they might have a small amount of privacy.
“I have longed to talk to you all day,” she said.
He gripped her hand in his large, calloused ones. Now he raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “My little Elandra,” he said gruffly. “Empress of the land. I am proud, very proud.”
“Thank you. Father, about—”
“You must take care, Elandra. Guard yourself well, and do not form alliances within the court too hastily. Consider situations from all sides before you become involved.”
“Yes, Father. But—”
“Intrigues are a nasty business. But they can’t be avoided, not here. The place is rife with them.”
“I have learned.”
“Have you? Good. You were always a clever girl. You will show good judgment now.”
“Yes, but, Father,” she said, gripping his sleeve. “I need to ask your advice—”
He shook his head. “No, child.”
“But—”
“No. I am not the man to advise you. I am just an old warmonger. Fighting is all I know about. The ways and wherefores I leave to others.”
Exasperation rose in her. If he would just listen for a moment, but then he never had. “I need a jinja,” she said hastily before he could cut her off again.
That got his attention. His single eye narrowed at her. “A jinja? Why?”
“There are strange portents,” she said wearily. “You’ve seen the cloud on the horizon.”
He sighed. “All have seen it. An era is ending, child. We all know that.”
“Yes, and I feel the need for protection, for help.”
Albain’s craggy face grew fierce. “Albain blood flows in your veins. Have you forgotten that? Are you afraid?”
She wanted to scream at him to drop this pretense that there should be no fear, ever. She wanted to confess that she was afraid, horribly afraid. She wanted to be held in his arms and reassured. She wanted to find a place where she could feel safe.
But his scorn stiffened her spine. She flung up her head and looked him in the eye. “I have forgotten nothing,” she said, making her voice haughty. “But if the emperor walks nowhere without a man at his back, whom am I to have at mine?”
“Ah. I see. But you need a flesh-and-blood protector, girl, not a jinja.”
“I want both.”
He considered it, pursing his lips. “You know jinjas are forbidden here. I have left mine at the city gates, squalling in a cage in the care of my baggage handlers. It is hard to walk about, feeling the magic that shifts through these halls, and have nothing to sound the alarm.”
“Exactly.”
“Would you defy the emperor?”
“Will you defy me?” she retorted.
He grew very still, his gaze arrested. Then slowly he smiled. “Your mother would have spoken to me in just that way, sharp as a spear, cutting to the heart of the matter. I will see what I can do.”
She smiled at him in grateful relief. “Thank you.”
He held up his forefinger. “There is one problem. You must return to Gialta to claim it.”
“But I do not think I can.”
“It is the only way. There must be the bonding, or a jinja will not serve well, not the way you require.”
“Can there not be a bonding here?”
He shook his head. “It would not work.”
Disappointment filled her. Frowning, she hissed a moment through her teeth. “Then the jinja must wait until I can come.”
“All the more need to select a protector.”
She nodded. “Lord Sien recommends I do so quickly. And he says I should not choose a Gialtan.”
A slow smile spread across Albain’s face. “But I think you do not always listen to this priest, do you?”
An identical smile appeared on her face as she looked up at