“You said I could live like an Empress, if I obeyed you,” she said. She was careful to keep her eyes downcast, fixing her gaze on the Knight-Commander’s glittering boots as if she was too scared to look him in the eye. “I know I can’t bring friends from the surface here, but can John’s sister stay with me? I like her.”
The Knight-Commander started a little, interrupted from his contemplation of immortal glory. “Why should I care who you pick for your ladies-in-waiting? You may form your retinue as you please. I’ll have her attend you in your chambers. The Knight-Poet, too.”
Neridia’s heart thumped against her ribs. “I thought you said he needed to rest in order to recover.”
“Did I? Well, I’m certain he’s better now.” The Knight-Commander gave her a long, assessing stare, his eyes hidden behind his helmet. “I will send him to you. Consider it a test of your obedience and discretion. And remember what will happen to him if you fail, and he uncovers the truth.”
Neridia nodded silently. Her hand tightened on her father’s pearl.
I can do this.
I have to.
“I can see we’re going to get along very nicely.” The Knight-Commander tossed her a mocking salute. “My Empress.”
Chapter 28
“Oh, my mate, my heart.” John went to one knee in the doorway, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her long enough to bow his head as etiquette demanded. “I am overjoyed to see you properly honored at last.”
Finally, she was surrounded by the luxury she deserved. The Imperial apartments had obviously been hastily re-opened and prepared for her; only a few pieces of furniture had as yet been recovered from storage and returned to their proper places. But the lapis lazuli and turquoise floor was mirror-bright from frantic polishing, and embroidered drapes of the finest cerulean silk had been hung over the carved coral bed. Fresh light-pearls had been fitted into the wall sconces, casting out the gentle silver radiance of the full moon.
Amidst all this splendor, Neridia herself shone like a black pearl in an exquisite jewelry box. She’d changed out of her bedraggled human garments into a soft, simple robe, the white silk flowing over her curves like water. Bands of tiny seed-pearls formed intricate designs of curling waves around the neckline and hem.
Sat at the gilded vanity table, straight-backed, hands folded in her lap, she looked every inch the Empress she was. Beautiful. Composed. Regal.
Remote, his inner human muttered uneasily.
His human was right. She was breathtaking, but it was a distant sort of beauty, like the moon behind clouds. No matter how he reached out to her down the mate bond, she slipped through his fingers, untouchable as fog.
“Something is bothering you,” he said, concerned. “What is it? What has happened?”
Neridia didn’t look at him. Given that she was contemplating a selection of the Crown Jewels, set out on the vanity table for her pleasure, John could hardly blame her preoccupation. Still, his unease grew.
He mentally shook himself, chastising himself for his own arrogance. Of course I cannot presume to be so familiar with her anymore. Not now that she has claimed her rightful place at last.
The Knight-Commander had told him the good news personally. Neridia had been able to enter the Throne room, and the Pearl Throne itself had responded to her touch. True, she still had not yet shifted, but now even the Knight-Commander could not deny that she was indeed the rightful Empress.
Even now, the Knight-Commander was in conclave with the Sea Council. John had no doubt that his superior would be able to persuade the other sea lords to accept Neridia as the heir to the Throne. Soon, all of Atlantis would echo with songs of rejoicing.
She is the Pearl Empress. And now…now she truly understands what that means.
John forced himself to fix his gaze to the floor as her station demanded. “My Empress-“
“Don’t call me that.”
John’s head jerked up in surprise at the bitter note in her voice. She’d picked up the crown of the Empress-in-Waiting. She turned the heavy gold circlet round in her hands, as though examining the pearls and sapphires that adorned it. Still, John had a strange certainty that she wasn’t even seeing the wondrous gems.
Abandoning formality, John rose. A little stiff from his half-healed wounds, he crossed the room to her side. She still didn’t look up at him.
“My mate.” John crouched again—not in any sort of formal bow, just in order to put their faces level with each other. “Please tell me what is wrong.”
Neridia let out her breath, carefully putting the crown back down onto the vanity unit. “John, if I told you that someone had…if I told you that someone had upset me, what would you do?”
“Someone has upset you?” John’s hand instinctively flew to his sword-hilt. “Who? Who has dared to insult you?”
Neridia’s hand covered his, stopping him from drawing the blade. “It’s just a hypothetical question. If someone insulted me, you’d challenge them to a duel, right?”
“Of course,” John said, rather confused. “How could you doubt it? Has someone been insulting my honor, by implying otherwise?”