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“Is that not what you’ve been working toward this whole time?” Cato asked coldly. Not for the first time, he wondered at possibility of a double cross.
“Calm yourself,” Sulla placated. “There is enough unease within the Council that, so long as Acheron speaks in favor of the joining with the Finctus, a supporting majority vote will follow. One of us can suggest the marriage pact, so we have covered that problem, as well. Things will happen quickly, and people will believe what they’ve been fed, but only for a time.”
“Make your point, and quickly,” Cato ordered when Sulla paused.
“We need to humanize him. As soon as announcements are made, you need to find a way to endear him to the people,” Sulla finished.
Sulla was right, of course. To all of Galilae, Augustine was a monster lurking in the shadows and haunting their dreams. But propaganda was a powerful tool, and what better way to paint him in an appealing light than to associate him with something they already loved? It was perfect, and everything they needed was already in place; however, they were suddenly going to require cooperation from Persephone on a level that Cato was not convinced they would ever coerce her to provide. They could continue to hope for the best, but Cato needed to speak with Augustine about the inevitability of preparing for war. In many ways war would have been far simpler.
* * * *
It had been a month since the siege. The closer they drew to the final Council meeting, the higher Persephone’s stress levels had risen. Augustine had remained absent for nearly a full fortnight, and Persephone still had no idea where things stood with him. Based on what the captain had said to her during their first meeting, clearly they still intended to pursue the marriage pact, but that suggested very little for what kind of relationship Augustine intended to have with her after the ceremony. Possibly none at all, which wouldn’t be a problem if there were not so many people depending on her manipulating the situation for the greater good, as her mother had described it. Her mother remained adamant that his affection for her was the only influence they had at present. In Persephone’s mind, it was very clear that no affection existed, and his extended absence was proof.
If Persephone had fallen out of his favor, then the only leverage they had was the child growing inside her. Even if he didn’t want her, he would want the child; she was sure of it. Persephone did not make a habit of using others as bargaining chips to get what she wanted, and although she did not desire the babe, she still saw it as an innocent in this situation, so it was hard to convince herself to do what might be necessary. With nothing else to occupy her time, she’d thought about it extensively. If he feared she would terminate the pregnancy, he might do what she wanted; but if she made such a threat, she had better be willing and able to follow through on it. He would immediately recognize any hesitation on her part, and he would exploit the weakness.
No matter how many reasons Persephone could find to justify the act, though, she wasn’t sure if she could do it. Finding the means wasn’t the problem, she could think of a number of methods at her disposal. No, the problem was that she had never killed someone undeserving. An unborn child was certainly not capable of having wronged her, or anyone else. More importantly, it was a part of her. For a mother to kill her own child? It might be the vilest act Persephone could fathom.
There were only to be two more Council meetings before the end of the season’s term. Then the Fall Festival. If they were keeping to their same plan – at least, the plan as far as Persephone could figure it – the Perdomans needed to finalize Council approval for the marriage pact by the last session if they intended to hold the ceremony during the Festival, which made the most sense.
Thus far, her father had made no mention of the Perdomans announcing themselves to the Council publicly, though she suspected they were probably conspiring with some of its members. Not all men were honorable. Prodotin was proof that loyalty could be bought. Also, that she was aware of, she and her mother were the only two that knew of the intended marriage pact. She doubted that either her father or her brother would be able to minimize their blustering about such a thing. Every night on their return, her father and brother spoke almost exclusively of Barbarus and concerns about him uniting with the Finctus. This had remained the predominant concern within the Council. Her mother usually involved herself in the discussions. Sometimes Persephone joined in as well, but mostly she listened. Two meetings left and none of them were any closer to a solution regarding how to regain their freedom, and subsequently Galilae’s, than when they had been taken captive.
Persephone feigned wellness as much as possible. Surely her mother suspected, but she did not want to tip off her father or brother as to her condition. She felt relatively certain that she kept it successfully disguised from the soldiers that guarded them. The captain was her biggest concern. He hadn’t spoken with her again, but he’d made it clear he knew. Likely, he would tell Augustine before she had a chance, so she had to make a decision about how she was going to use the information. It was the one decision she couldn’t bring herself to make.
Despite the fatigue that plagued her, Persephone played enthusiastically with Kolimpri. To do otherwise would arouse suspicion. Not to mention it was probably the one thing that truly brought her any joy in her currently bleak circumstances. Playing one of their favorite games, Persephone lay on her back with her legs forming ninety degree angles at her hips and her knees. While holding on to Persephone’s hands to help keep her balance, Koli draped herself on her stomach across Persephone’s shins. Persephone bounced her feet, eliciting delighted squeals from Koli.
“Fly! Fly, Little Bird!” Persephone said laughingly while the rest of their family watched the two of them playing. It was impossible not to share in Kolimpri’s glee.
Between her excessive exhaustion and the noise of Koli’s mirth bubbling around her, Persephone didn’t hear the key in the door.
“Oh nooooo!” Kolimpri started pulling herself forward, intentionally sliding off of Persephone’s knees. “Catch me!”
Persephone managed to get her hands underneath Koli’s little body in time to keep her from landing in a total heap on her stomach. As it was, she only landed in a partial heap, laughing hysterically all the while.
“Careful, Little Bird. You squished me,” Persephone chastised with no heat.
Koli was sitting straddled on Persephone’s middle, and Persephone held her by the waist to keep her from bouncing in her jubilance. The clearing of a throat sent all of Persephone’s senses on alert. It had been nearly two weeks since a soldier had entered their chambers after returning her father and brother in the evening. That could only mean one thing. A sharp turn of her head confirmed her suspicions when she saw Seneca standing near the door waiting for her.
Gently, she shifted Koli onto the floor. With a hurried goodbye, Persephone stood and followed Seneca to the king’s chambers. The walk was nerve-wracking, and in a rare moment, she allowed herself the luxury of fidgeting, smoothing her skirts distractedly along the way. She had no idea what she would be walking into, so she had no way of knowing how to prepare herself.
With a lover’s familiarity, her emotionless façade wrapped itself around her; by the time they reached the door, she had abandoned toying with her skirts and had fixed her expression to appear coolly detached. On the inside? Well, a hornet’s nest would have seemed less chaotic. She walked through the door feeling like she was walking into her own execution. Nothing would have prepared her for the greeting she received.
The door had not even clicked all the way closed when Augustine grabbed her face firmly in both of his hands and kissed her fiercely. Lacking all of the control he typically maintained, he kissed her with a possessiveness and urgency that she could neither understand nor reciprocate. All she could do was hold on and try not to be swept away in his overpowering current.
Without removing his lips from hers, he walked her backwards until her legs hit the bureau behind her. It wasn’t painful, but t
he force was sufficient that she jolted and threw a hand down to steady herself. It was irrelevant. Augustine was already lifting her onto the top of it. Immediately, he set to pushing her skirts up and pulling her hips firmly against his. Any doubt she might have held on to that he’d lost interest evaporated at the obvious evidence of his desire pulsing against her.
Breaking their kiss, he did something so completely out of character that she could do nothing but watch him in stunned fascination. He spat on his fingers and slicked them against her before slamming into her. He’d never entered her without making sure her arousal was sufficient to ease his passage, so she wasn’t entirely sure if this had been an act of desperation or degradation. Pain and pleasure comingled. Mouth covering hers, Augustine swallowed the gasp that would have announced both. Wasting no time, he immediately established a pounding rhythm.
Abandoning her hips, his hands roved upward, snaring her zoster. With a violent jerk, he snapped the leather, a display of strength that both aroused and frightened her. After discarding the now useless accessory, he shoved her chiton off her shoulder and, finding her breast, he pinched and rolled her nipple. Her entire body had felt oversensitized the past few days, and not pleasantly so. Her breasts in particular felt slightly swollen and achy. When Augustine trailed kisses along her neck, it offered her the opportunity to wince unnoticed.
“Have I vexed you?” The slight breathlessness of the question wasn’t forced, but the levity of her tone was.
She had a hard time imagining he would be so coarse with her if he knew she carried his child, and if he didn’t already know, she didn’t want to alert him to the fact that something was off. But she needed the stimulation to change. Her statement had the desired effect.
He stilled immediately. “Do I seem vexed?” His level of self-control was impressive; almost instantly the tension rolled off of his body in a disciplined wave.
“Less so now.” As his movements softened, she allowed herself to melt into him. When his mouth returned once again to hers, the sensual control she was so used to was back. “Miss me?” she said lightly. The words, spoken into his lips, were slightly muffled.
He pulled back just far enough for her to see his mouth quirk in the corner. She thought for a moment that he would tease her back. Instead he offered a single, sincere nod. It would have been better if he had jested. She didn’t know how to feel about the candid vulnerability in that one gesture.
Legs still wrapped around his waist, he scooped her up and walked them both over to the bed. The fabric of her chiton, clinging to her in haphazard disarray, trailed behind. Once at their destination, he divested her of what was left of the material. Rather than immediately covering her body with his own, he rolled onto his back. And for another first, he stayed that way the entire time as they moved together, each to their own release.
* * * *
With both of them still catching their breath, Persephone rolled off of him. When she would have stood to dress, Augustine put a hand on her arm. “Stay a while.”
Nodding, she nestled herself into the crook of his arm. It didn’t escape his notice that she remained on her back next to him rather than turning into him, though. She never tolerated such intimacy for long, and Augustine toyed with her hair, enjoying the moment while it lasted as they lay in amicable silence.
He knew she would speak before she did, because she tilted her chin to look at him, undoubtedly so she could observe his reactions.
“Where did you go?” The curiosity in her tone made the question sound casual, but everything Persephone did was deliberate, so she had a particular course in mind.
“You assume I left,” he responded vaguely. It was the same type of evasion Persephone frequently used. Not quite a lie, but a honing in on a part of the question or statement that was unsaid or irrelevant. Obviously she assumed he had left – and she was correct – or she wouldn’t have asked the question.
“The alternative is to assume you unhappy with me.”
“No.” He kissed the top of her head. “Not unhappy with you.”
“Nor will you tell me, though.” As she already knew what his answer would be, she did not frame it as a question.
“No, I will not,” he confirmed.
“Only two Council meetings remain.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “This standoff between us draws to a close.”
“What happens next?”
“You will know soon enough, but the outcome will depend largely on your father.”
She made a discontented sound in her throat and sat up. “Then we will certainly find ourselves fucked.”
He hoped she was mistaken. Given what he knew of her father, though, he doubted it.
* * * *
Cato stood sentry with the numerous other soldiers present in the room as the royal family was escorted in. Augustine had called them all forth as soon as the day’s Council meeting had finished. This was the first time the family had been called together as a group since they had been given their initial instructions following the siege. Even Persephone – who undoubtedly knew more than the others – was looking wary. Tomorrow marked the last Council meeting. The time when Augustine and Cato would reveal themselves to the rest of Galilae. Soon they would see if the king would act for the goodwill of his people, or out of foolish pride.
When Persephone would have sat with her family, Augustine beckoned her to his side of the table. A silent command that she separate herself from them, symbolic of what was to come. She nodded and relinquished Kolimpri’s hand to their mother’s. The queen pulled the child onto her lap as Persephone made her way to Augustine. She settled herself on his lap as indicated, but when she would have remained perched on the end of his knee, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Wisely, Augustine had planned to keep her close, in case she should decide to become noncompliant. It also served the dual purpose of angering the king, a thing Cato knew his friend to take great pleasure in. Both the king and his son glared angrily at Persephone and Augustine, so it would seem the ploy was effective.
Unexpectedly, Augustine grabbed Persephone’s chin, turning her to him and kissing her thoroughly. Acheron’s face turned a violent shade of red at the obvious slight. It wasn’t until the king cleared his throat that Augustine released a very surprised Persephone.
“We are all aware of your nocturnal activities. Must you flaunt them in the light of day as well?” The king managed to adopt a droll tone, but Cato still heard the underlying edge.
Evidently Augustine heard it too. “Tell me, Highness, does it vex you more to know that I spend my evenings with my cock inside your daughter” – if it was possible, Acheron’s face flushed further and his lips pressed into a thin white line – “or that she enjoys it?”
The man was incorrigible. Cato barely managed to suppress a sigh at Augustine’s antagonistic behavior. He understood it, but it wasn’t the best way to encourage Acheron’s compliance with the coming plans.
Persephone was glaring coldly at Augustine. “It vexes me to speak of it so crudely.”
Cato silently commended her for standing up to him. Frustrating as she could be, she did not lack for courage.
Augustine met her angry scowl with an unapologetic smirk before he pecked her on the lips. “To business, then.”
Her reprimand had done nothing to dim Augustine’s joviality, but at least he respected her enough not to press the matter further.
He returned his attention to the rest of the royal family. “Surely you are all wondering why I have called you here. Moreso, how this stalemate between us is to end.”
Uncertain silence met his words. Antaios shifted uncomfortably. Koli watched Persephone curiously from her mother’s lap. The queen’s unreadable countenance matched that of her eldest daughter.
Finally the king found his voice. “Tomorrow marks the last Council meeting, followed immediately by our weeklong Fall Festival. You cannot keep my family secreted away forever, so, yes, I su
ppose you could surmise I am wondering how this will end.”
Finally, Acheron’s words were tempered by a bit of logic, yet they were delivered with pompous certainty. Cato had a hard time finding anything redeemable in the man.
“It is really quite simple. Tomorrow at the Council meeting, you will announce my captain and me as messengers of the Finctus. You will insist we be heard because we arrived peacefully and come bearing a gift. A gift you will most certainly want delivered.”
Acheron’s confidence faltered, to be replaced with his confusion. “What gift?”
“Patience, Highness, I would not ruin the surprise. All you need know is that I have it.”
“After you have presented this gift, what message for Galilae? Or is that to be a surprise as well?”
“That, I will share with you now. It does not behoove me to have you go fucking everything up tomorrow.”
Despite his words, both Cato and Augustine were in agreement that the king might still fuck everything up.
“The Finctus continues to move east. We recognize that a peaceful joining with Galilae is in the best interest of all. You will be offered an opportunity no other has received. You will agree to willingly enter into the Finctus, and in return, the Sator will grant you the revered title of Imperator.”
“You would strip me of my kingdom,” the king interrupted, “and you think I would agree to this willingly. Your reputation as an unparalleled military strategist seems to have been inflated.”
More for his own reassurance than because he thought he would need it, Cato put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Augustine was prepared and had things well in hand, but this could devolve very quickly.
“Your title will change, yes,” Augustine continued calmly; however, the way his volume and tone dropped were clear signs of his displeasure.
Signs the king undoubtedly overlooked. Cato had noticed in their dealings with him, as well as observing Persephone’s, that the man was painfully oblivious to subtle shifts in how words were delivered.