Blood Empire

Chapter 11

"The lord of Elkmire Palace has invited us to his home to celebrate his son's natal day," Emperor Ishaan says, sitting on his throne and looking down on those below, "I have prior engagements to attend so you three will go in my place."

"The three of us?" Azalia questions, looking to the Amayan princess at her side, "Father should she not stay here? Save us the embarrassment."

"Princess Karilya is a member of this family, Azalia," the emperor says, "she was invited by name."

Azalia scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"You three will be on your best behaviour," Emperor Ishaan says, "Lord Ikran is a proud man, he has been trying to marry into the royal line for years now. Of course, his station and his blood is too small to even think about pooling into ours, but he does have his uses so we will not insult him."

"Yes, father," Azalia says, pushing out her bottom lip.

The emperor rises and descends, he stands in front of Karilya and she holds his stare, not averting her gaze or flinching away as most do.

"You will not make a foolery of this family," the emperor says, not as words of encouragement but as a threat, "you will be silent and respectful, you will not make a scene."

"Yes, your majesty," Karilya says with a soft smile.

The three royals are dismissed to ready themselves for the journey.

"Princess Karilya will ride," Elios says, keeping his voice firm when he talks about her around the servants and guards, "wouldn't want my sister uncomfortable in sharing a carriage."

"We can have another carriage prepared for your wife," a servant says, nervous and confused by the prince's request.

"No," Elios says, knowing that Karilya would rather ride, "she will ride with me, where I can keep an eye on her. Saddle her horse, the white one."

"But, my prince, that's-"

Elios silences the stable master with a cold and steely glare, one that has the man scurrying off to do as he's told.

The roads are clear and the ride is easy, Karilya enjoys the open air, she breathes deeply as she looks up to the clouds above.

"We haven't officially met," Emalia says pushing her horse to ride in pace with Karilya's.

"I know who you are," Karilya says, turning her gaze down to the hard woman who rides beside her, "The princess' sworn guard... a little far from your post, aren't you?"

Giggles come from the carriage behind them, the carriage which the Nurian princess occupies with her lady friend.

Emalia glares at the Amayan princess, she steadies her horse and then looks forward, to where the prince rides in lead.

"You will never have him, not as I have," Emalia says, her words are quiet and dripping with venom.

Karilya looks to the prince and she smiles, she could stir the pot, she could cause mayhem and mischief by telling the woman beside her how her lover spent the previous night in her chambers, sleeping in her bed.

Instead, the princess just sights and shakes her head.

"We're both prisoners in this marriage," she says, looking back to her husband's mistress.

The whole world seems to fall silent, the hair on the back of Karilya's neck stands on end and she looks around, standing in the stirrups as a sense of dread washes over her.