The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,145

wove themselves into the cushions.

"Don't try to get up," she warned, her voice trembling. "If you do, I swear it by Shurri, you will go home with a chair as part of your breeches. You'll be the laughingstock of all Dancruan, and your precious court."

He stared at her as if she had lost her wits. "What is going on?" he wanted to know. "You like me!" He smirked. "And I know you like kissing me."

"Kissing isn't all there is to life," Sandry retorted, repeating something her uncle's mistress had once said. "I did like you — before I found out what a two-faced liar you are! You sneak around to see me because you have all you can handle at night, in Berenene's chambers!"

Shan shook his head. "That has nothing to do with you and me, Sandry. Yes, I'm her lover, but it's not like I really have a choice. She holds my purse strings."

"I'd say that's not all she holds," Sandry snapped, blushing for her own vulgarity.

"And I repeat, that has nothing to do with you or me, or our getting married. Once we're married, I'll be yours completely. I'll be a faithful husband, and a good father," he said, reaching out to her. "We can make a wonderful life together."

"You'll have more than that," said Ambros. The door was open a crack. Now Ambros opened it all the way to come in. Meticulous as always, he closed it behind him. "Did Pershan ever mention that the Roths were the second most powerful family in the empire, until his father and uncles gambled most of the estate away?" Ambros inquired, testing the cushion of a chair as if to make sure it would not attack him. "They have fifty acres where once they had twenty thousand. From twenty seats in the Noble Assembly, they have one." He sat gingerly and continued: "I think Pershan came to court thinking that he could woo the empress into marrying him. It might even have worked — his family is so reduced, he presents no threat to the lords who might reject a more powerful man as Imperial Consort. If she had set that marriage before them, they might well have approved it." Ambros looked at the captive, ice in his pale blue eyes. "But he knows Her Imperial Majesty better now, don't you, Shan? She means it when she says she will not share power. When she tires of him, he returns to being nothing, instead of a man who wields influence over her. And she will tire of him. Quenaill can vouch for that."

Ambros turned his gaze to Sandry as she sank down in a chair. "But you come along. If you cared to, you could wield real power in the empire. You are a kinswoman of the imperial house, vastly wealthy in your own right, with plenty of rich farmland, tenants, mines, fishing grounds, and forests as your inheritance. Married to you, Pershan fer Roth would be a great noble. He would no longer fear the day when the imperial smile vanishes. Even Berenene would have to treat him with respect."

"Sandry, why do you even listen to this dried-up bookkeeper?" Shan begged. "Love isn't a requirement for marriages in our class, but I know we would come to love each other. You're so beautiful, you're charming, you're intelligent, you have a sense of humour — how could I not love you? I would treat you with the respect and affection you deserve. And any man who offended you would be my enemy. Moreover, I'll wager your mage friends would stay if you did. Rizu would be overjoyed if Daja changed her mind—"

Sandry held up a hand to stem the flood of persuasion. When he shut up, she asked, "Did you tell her?"

"What?" asked Shan, baffled.

"Did you tell Berenene you were going to ask me to marry you?"

"Her Imperial Majesty? No. I didn't want to come back to her in shame if you refused me."

"Did you tell anyone?" Sandry asked. "Any of your friends at court?"

"Of course not. You know how they laugh at failure—"

"Is it their laughter you fear? Or the chance they might tell Berenene what you're up to?" Sandry got to her feet, unweaving his bonds to the chair under him. "You're so afraid of her, you sneak behind her back to even talk to me. I bet the next thing on your list was suggesting a nice, private wedding. Intimate, just a few friends, no fuss —