'Here comes the interest of the Empire, he thought. The false princess, the false Queen of Cintra. The sovereign to the area around the mouth of the Yaruga River, which is so important to the Empire. Here she comes, looking down, terrified, in a white silk dress with green sleeves and a necklace in shallow neckline. At Darn Rowan I complimented her dress and jewellery selection. Stella knows my tastes. But what am I supposed to do with this doll? Put her on a dresser or mantle?'
‘You understand well,’ he bit his lip. ‘Emperors rule the world, but two things they don’t have control over. Their heart and their time. Both belong to the empire.’
‘I know that,’ she said, ‘all too well.’
‘I will not be here long,’ he said after a moment of heavy silence. ‘I have to go to Cintra, to grace them with my presence at the peace celebration. You will have to go back to Darn Rowan... Cheer up, girl. For the second time, lift your head in my presence. What is that I see in your eyes? Tears? This is a serious breach of etiquette, I will have show Countess Liddertal my highest displeasure. Lift your head, I said...’
‘Please... forgive Lady Stella... Imperial Majesty, this is my fault. Only mine. Lady Stella has taught me... and prepared me well.’
I’ve noticed, and I appreciate it. Fear not, Stella does not run the risk of falling from grace. She never runs the risk. I was just joking with you. Poorly.’
‘I noticed,’ replied the girl, terrified by her own boldness. But Emhyr just laughed. Somewhat forced.
‘Well, I like you,’ he said. ‘Trust me. You are brave. Much like...’
He stopped.
Much like my daughter, he finished in his head. A feeling of guilt struck him like a dog bite.
The girl held his gaze. It’s not just the work of Stella, thought Emhyr. This really is her nature. And despite appearances, she is a diamond that doesn’t scratch. No I will not authorise Vattier to kill this girl. Cintra, this business interests the Empire, but this issue seems to have only one sensible and honourable solution.
‘Give me your hand.’
It was an order delivered in a stern voice and tone. But even though, he could not help feeling that she would have done it willingly. Without coercion.
Her hand was small and cold. But not shaking anymore.
‘What is your name? Please do not tell me it is Cirilla Fiona.’
‘Cirilla Fiona.’
‘I feel like punishing you, girl. Severely.’
‘I know, Your Majesty. I deserve it. But I... I must be Cirilla Fiona.’
‘I think that you’ he said, still holding her hand, ‘regret not being her.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I regret that I am not her.’
‘Really?’
‘If I was... truly Cirilla, perhaps, Your Majesty would have been kinder to me. But I am just a fake. An imitation. A doppelganger who is not worthy of anything. Nothing...’
He whirled around and grabbed her arm. Then he released her and stepped back.
‘Would you like a crown? A position?’ he spoke quietly, but quickly, pretending not to see her violently shake her head. ‘Tribute? Compliments? Luxury?’
He paused. He did not see the that the girl shook her head, denying his unjust accusations, perhaps even more unjust by the unspoken ones.
He breathed loudly and deeply.
‘Do you know, little moth, that what you see in front of you is the flame?’
‘I know, Your Majesty.’
They were silent for a long time. The smell of spring suddenly whirled in their heads. Intoxicating.
‘Being the Empress,’ Emhyr finally said dully, ‘is not easy, contrary to appearances. I do not know if I’ll be able to love you.’
She nodded to indicate that she knew this. He saw a tear on her cheek. Just like then, in the Castle Stygga, he felt like a sliver of glass was stuck in his heart.
He hugged her, pressing her hard against his chest, stroking her hair which smelled like lilies.
‘My poor child,’ he said in an unnatural voice. ‘My poor reason of state.’