The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [223]
Melia drifted up the first step of the dais. “Is something amiss, Your Magnificence?”
“Nothing, Melindora.” His expression one of disgust, the emperor tossed the cup to the floor. Crimson wine spilled across the white stone like blood. “Except that it seems others have to tell me what is going on in my own empire.”
“But it’s a large and great empire, Your Magnificence.”
Ephesian grimaced. “Yes, so my advisors tell me over and over. Yet I am not quite so soft and dull as they believe they have made me. I know that my empire has receded over the years even as my girth has expanded.” He adjusted his crown with a pudgy hand. “Well, perhaps it’s time I paid less attention to my vices and more to the concerns of my empire.”
Lirith gave an approving nod. “You’ll find that’s one of the happy side effects of virtue, Your Magnificence. It leaves your mind and your schedule clear for so many other things.”
“Is that so?” Ephesian said, rubbing his chin. “Absolutely fascinating. I command you to tell me more about this virtue of yours.”
Melia ascended another step. “Your Magnificence …”
Another massive, imperial sigh. “Yes, yes, Melindora. I can see quite well this is not a social visit. The gods forbid you ever come to Tarras simply to pay your beloved emperor a simple, polite obeisance. Out with it then. What do you need?”
“The Dome of the Etherion,” Melia said. “Just for the day. Oh, and soldiers. Lots of them.”
The emperor cocked his head, then his rubbery lips curved in a smile. “Well, this is turning out to be an interesting day after all.”
A short while later they gathered in what Ephesian had referred to as “a modest side chamber where you can wait while Melindora’s requests are prepared.” Evidently, on an imperial scale, modest meant something the size of a warehouse. They rattled around the vast, marble-columned hall, frequently losing sight of one another along with all sense of direction.
There was no sign of Lirith yet. She had remained in the throne room so Ephesian could question her on the foreign but intriguing concepts of morality and decency. Grace’s last glimpse of the two had revealed Lirith sitting on the top step of the dais, speaking cheerfully, while the emperor gazed forward with shining eyes, rubbing his jowls and chuckling.
Then again, perhaps it was not such a wonder the emperor was ready for a change.
He’s myopic, Grace. You saw the way he squinted at whoever was speaking. And that’s why all those naked young things were so uninteresting to him. He couldn’t really see them.
There was no way she could make a pair of glasses for the emperor on this world. All the same, she had a feeling Lirith was helping Ephesian see in other ways.
Grace strolled through slanting beams of light, some distance from the others. These last days had been so jarring. It felt good to be quiet, if just for a moment. She glanced down at the wine cup in her hand; it was empty. Grace walked toward a servant who stood on the far side of the hall.
Then jogged. Then ran.
By the time she reached the other side of the hall her heart was pounding, her lungs were heaving, and there was absolutely no sign of either servant or wine. The others were small shadows in the distance. There was nothing to do but head toward them and hope she made it back before she expired.
Just take it slow, Grace. You’d think with all this dashing between worlds you’d be in better shape.
She was halfway across the hall when she noticed a statue she must have passed in her vain attempt to get more wine. It was the statue of a man, half again larger than life. Grace wasn’t exactly certain what made her stop and gaze at it. The statue seemed out of place here. But perhaps that was what made it so compelling.
Unlike the smooth, white marble all around, this was hewn of rough, gray stone. All the same, there was a vividness to it that brought life to the subject. The man was clearly a warrior of some sort, dressed for battle,