“After her child is born, she will go on a royal tour through Daijal to introduce her heir to the country. She’ll be in Helia for some of that time during winter. Send your proxy to sign an accord with her in that city,vezir. In exchange for more land, you will have our support for your endeavors here in Solaria.”
“How much land must we give away to foreigners, Mother?” Artyom demanded. “We risk our own people with these hideous experiments you insist on conducting.”
“Enough that it gets us what we want. The wardens can cleanse what land is poisoned after we hold the Imperial throne and our House rules Solaria,” Joelle said.
That was a prize all Houses wanted. The House of Sa’Liandel had held the Imperial throne for too long. If the Dawn Star would not favor the House of Kimathi, Joelle would look to the Twilight Star instead.
Kote nodded at whatever he saw in Joelle’s eyes and stood. “I must leave to catch my train back across the border. My queen will see your proxy in Helia over winter.”
He gave her a bow worthy of her station, no more and no less, before leaving her office. Artyom frowned at the high general’s exit, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“You will go to Helia when it is time,” Joelle said.
Artyom’s head snapped around, eyes widening before narrowing when he caught her gaze. “Shouldn’t that task fall to Karima?”
“She grieves, and grief has no place in the fight ahead.”
It wasn’t a formal repudiation of Karima as her heir, but it was near enough that Artyom would do whatever Joelle demanded if it gained him favor. He turned to face her fully and bowed as one would to an empress.
“Whatever you ask of me, I shall provide,” Artyom said before leaving her office with a spring in his step, no doubt prepared to tell his wife of the news.
He left the door open upon his exit, and one of Joelle’s handmaidens stepped inside the office. “Chai,vezir?”
Joelle uncurled her hands, fingers throbbing. “Yes, and send for Dalma.”
Her family’s personal magician would hopefully be able to get rid of the ache in her bones so she could get through the day’s tasks. Ruling a House and governing avasilyetwas never-ending some days.
Fifteen
TERILYN
After an eighteen-hour labor, the sound of Eimarille’s child finally being born and crying was all Terilyn wanted to hear.
“Congratulations, Your Royal Highness. It’s a boy,” the doctor said.
The doctor handed the squalling newborn off to a nurse to be seen to. Terilyn tracked where the woman went in the bedroom Eimarille shared with Wesley. The room was overfull with the doctor, his nurses, a midwife, a magician, and servants who fetched whatever was required of them.
Eimarille hadn’t once let go of Terilyn’s hand during the labor, but she let go now as she slumped back. Terilyn pressed a hand to Eimarille’s damp dark blonde hair, holding the younger woman close. The nightgown Eimarille wore was soaked with sweat, the braid her hair was in loosened from all the times she’d writhed in the bed as she pushed.
And while Eimarille’s son was born now, it was up to Terilyn to see her lover safe.
“My son?” Eimarille murmured, voice a rasp from exhaustion.
Terilyn kissed the top of Eimarille’s head, watching as the nurse who held the infant boy left the bedroom with him. “Do not worry. I’ll return shortly.”
Terilyn extracted herself from the spot on the bed she hadn’t left since the labor started. Her gown was wrinkled from not being removed for over a day, but her weapons were still in place underneath. Terilyn left the bedroom, bare feet making no sound as she tracked the nurse with sharp eyes.
The antechamber was crowded with the Daijal royal family, the head recorder from the star temple who was responsible for updating the royal genealogies, and various others that King Bernard thought prudent to be present for the birth. They’d arrived within the hour when it became apparent Eimarille’s labor was finally progressing, and the room smelled of cigars, making Terilyn’s lips curl in distaste.
“Your son, Your Royal Highness,” the nurse said with a curtsy before offering the crying newborn to Wesley.
He seemed thrilled, though not as thrilled as the king. Terilyn took in everyone’s expression in a swift scan of the room like she’d been taught as a child. There was no one present she trusted with her lover’s child.
“I have a son,” Wesley said with wonder as he cradled the infant close.
Bernard gestured commandingly at Wesley, handing his cigar off to a courtier so he could hold his grandson. “Let me have a look at him.”
“I will take Prince Lisandro,” Terilyn said, cutting through the chatter. “His mother wishes to have him returned to her.”
