Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Forty-One

Jayde was most aware of the way the other lords looked at her, arm tucked into Aragon's, chin high. She didn't need to guess what they were thinking – they either looked at her with pity or a strange kind of respect, as though it would take a woman as awful as Aragon to walk so comfortably at his side. She heard a man's voice announce their entrance to the court of the Emperor, registered the faint murmur around her as her own name echoed around the hall. He had called her Lady Auguirre, as if somehow in the destruction of her country she had retained any kind of status or attachment to the old king's court. Had Aragon asked that she be recognized in that way? Perhaps he'd seen it as a kindness, so others here would view her as a respected person rather than a slave. Or perhaps it was her formal introduction back into society. Just what was it he expected from her?

She kept her gaze evenly ahead as they approached a wide, marble dais where a tall, sallow man leaned against the armrest of his throne. So this was the Emperor. Somehow, he was different than she'd envisioned – paler and paunchier, though she could still see he was well muscled beneath an exterior softened by court life. His face was dull, but his eyes were sharp as his gaze flicked between her and Aragon. She curtsied as Aragon bowed, and when she looked up again he was smiling.

"Elias, my friend. You look well. I hope you found your accommodations suitable?" His voice was low and brutal, yet somehow soft, like the hard crunch of gravel. It made a shiver creep across her neck, and she knew he was looking at her.

"More than suitable, your highness," Aragon said, inclining his head again. When they first arrived, the servants had showed them to their quarters to prepare themselves for the Emperor, and Aragon had wasted no time in pushing her down into the soft, pillowy blanket on the curtained bed. She had stared into the dark velvet of the drapes around the bed, and wondered at the expense of the gold that laced its edges. "I'm grateful to you for hosting us."

"And you must be Jayde. It's good to have an Auguirre join us in court – and a shame your father refused his place when it was offered him."

"Thank you for your welcome," she managed, though her jaw was tight. "You're a most gracious host."

She couldn't return his smile when he grinned first at Aragon and then at her. "She's a lovely thing, just like you said. Come, love, let me look at you."

The thought of Aragon speaking of her to the Emperor – to anyone – unnerved her, and she hesitated for a moment before willing herself to climb the few steps to the dais and approach the emperor. He held out his hand and she gingerly set her fingers against his palm, holding her breath as his hand closed around hers and he brought her knuckles to his lips. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her stomach twist, as if he knew something that she didn't, and it took all of her strength to not wrench her hand from his grasp.

"You'll be joining my festivities tonight, won't you?" Jayde said nothing, and the Emperor smiled again with something like a warning. "It'll be a small gathering. And Elias tells me you're quite a dancer, I was hoping you'd perform for us." He leaned forward, and Jayde caught his flowery, perfumed scent, like roses but a little too sweet. "Don't worry, love, no one else need know what you are."

Jayde grit her jaw and forced herself to smile. "And what's that?"

The Emperor grinned and prepared to speak again, but Aragon broke the tension between them. "Of course we'll be there. And Jayde..."

"It would be an honor," she murmured, and tried to hide her breath of relief when he finally let go of her. "Your highness." She inclined her head, unable to summon a curtsy, and returned to Aragon's side. How strange for him to be the one to shelter her now.