Chapter 54: Ch54 Sister By Another Name
The capital streets pulsed with strained life. Hawkers bellowed prices, street urchins dodged wagons, and the clang of hooves rang down cobblestone streets. But beneath the prosaic din still tingled the keen bite of unrest. Blackened wood outlined the horizon where fire had licked at rooftops, and the populace murmured in whispers of the temple raid and the blast that had threatened to incinerate the Emperor’s carriage.
The imperial procession cut through the city like a sword. Its center rolled the Emperor’s carriage, black lacquered wood glimmering in the light of the torches, its gold crest polished until it blinded. Knights on either side walked in polished armor, swords held high as a steel wall between the crowd and them.
Inside the carriage, the Emperor sat rigid, fists knotted on his knees. Eilan and Mark flanked him, battered but unbroken quiet. Hans hobbled in chains at the tail of the procession, jibes and puke of the crowd marking each step.
Liliana’s gaze flicked once to Hans’s hunched figure before she turned back to the Emperor. She straightened, the hilt of her sword thumping against her armored leg.
As the carriage came to a slow halt on the edge of the market district, Liliana stepped forward. She dropped her head into formal bow.
"Your Majesty," she stated, voice firm and sharp, "I shall take my leave here."
The Emperor’s eyes, though piercing for all his age, gazed at her in silence. For a moment, the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, as though he tried to read every thought that lingered behind her calm face. At last, he nodded.
"Very well," he said. "See to your work. But when it is done, you will report to the castle. I will learn it all for myself."
"Yes, sire."
Liliana slammed open the carriage door and descended to the cobblestones. Her boots rang out on stone, slicing like the final word of a duel. She curtsied a second time, and then went away.
The convoy jolted into motion again.
"Family trouble," a voice drawled lazily behind her.
Liliana stiffened, then glanced over her shoulder. A second carriage, its edges black and embroidery golden, had pulled up alongside the royal one. Within, leaning against it, chin propped on hand, sat Duke Aithur. His dark eyes glinted with amusement, his smirk slicing through the darkness like a blade hidden in silk.
"Your timing is perfect, as ever," Liliana replied tartly.
"Incorrect," Aithur echoed, pretending to be stern. "You leap from one flame into another, and I can only imagine that you enjoy having smoke odor stick to your armor." His sneer grew even wider. "Be gracious to your family, Countess. Family discord has a way of tarnishing even gilded steel."
Liliana’s lips twisted, the slightest flicker of a smile betraying her before she stifled it. "Your concern is precious, Duke, though unnecessary. I am not the one who stains easily."
With that, she turned, her cloak streaming behind her. Aithur chuckled low, relaxing back into his cushions as the carriages parted.
Liliana walked no more than a dozen steps before another voice sliced through the crowd of the market.
"Big sister Liliana!"
Her step hesitated.
Halfway out of the waiting carriage at the fountain, a small girl leaned as far as she was able, waving as if the entire city belonged to her. Chestnut curls glinted in the torchlight, and spring leaf-hued eyes sparkled with unchecked joy.
Liliana’s brows crease, irritation flashing, but the corners of her mouth betrayed unwilling warmth. "Tina." Her voice dropped, half a sigh. "I told you, I don’t like you calling me that."
The younger girl smiled, unmoved. "But it is true, isn’t it? We’re cousins! If I can’t call you sister, then what do you want me to call you, hmm?"
Before Liliana could answer, the carriage door flew open. Tina leapt down, nearly tangling herself in her dress, and barreled into Liliana’s arms. The girl’s laughter rang like bells, drawing more than a few curious stares from passersby.
"You’re not a child anymore," Liliana scolded softly, tapping her cousin’s forehead with a gloved finger.
"Not what I think," Tina retorted, clinging tighter. "Mean big sister Liliana! You don’t love me anymore!"
Liliana sighed, smoothing the rumpled hair with her hand. "You’re impossible."
Hand in hand, Tina tugged her toward the waiting carriage. Reluctantly, Liliana allowed herself to be drawn inside.
The cushions were scarlet velvet with gold thread, and they retained a faint odor of lavender oil. Tina plopped down next to her, bouncing her legs, while Liliana rested against the window sill, lids half-closed but eyes as sharp as ever.
The carriage jolted along, wheels rattling on cobblestones. For one instant of quiet between them. Then Liliana frowned.
The road was wrong.
Her eyes narrowed. "Tina. We are not headed to the Fiorie house."
The little girl tensed. Her hands twisted in her lap, and shame swept over her face in an shadow.
"Do you actually... want to go back there?" she asked softly. "After all? After the way they treated you?
Liliana’s jaw clenched. Chilly memories pushed against her—the day her father’s voice had brought her to the ground, the brothers who’d ridiculed her armor, the door slammed in her face when she swore she would walk the way of a knight.
She stood before Tina, her face as blank as highly burnished steel. "Invited or uninvited, they are still my family. If they despise me, they can say so to my face. I will not hide behind the silence."
Tina’s eyes brimmed. "But... aren’t you afraid?"
No. Liliana bent over, stroking her cousin’s hair in gentle motions. "Fear is lost on those who were unable to look beyond their own greed. Do not fear, little one. I am no longer the girl they turned out."
Tina did pause, then nodded quickly. She leaned out the window and called loudly to the driver. "To the Fiorie house!
The horses whinnied, sparks flying from their hooves as the carriage turned onto a new road.
Liliana relaxed, arms folded across her chest. A faintest of smiles played on her lips. Already she could see it: her father’s face twisting in distaste, her brothers choking on pride, the bitter looks that would greet her return.
Let them sneer. Let them scorn.
Tonight, she would not step into their hallway as the cast-off daughter. Tonight, she would step in as a Count.
Her eyes flashed like cooled steel. I wonder what expression those idiots will be wearing when they lay eyes on me now.
Tina stood alongside her, chewing her lip nervously, already dreading the storm her cousin’s sneer promised.
And far behind them, in another carriage rolling leisurely through the dusk, Duke Aithur stretched his legs and chuckled to himself.
"So, she sharpens her talons for her family," he murmured, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "Good. I’d hate for the nest of vipers to think her wings were only for show."
He leaned back, smirk curling wider. "Family trouble indeed."