Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

Magic in my land is not as commonly practiced as it is in Bunafi or Wolfjour Ail, however, it is done. I must find a venefica, someone who can tell me what her magi means and what exactly she will and can do with it.

Slipping from the bed once she’s asleep, I walk out of the room, looking for a puer, he is not far. Lifting my hand, I call him over to me.

“Tell the pontifex maximus that I want to see him immediately. Do not delay,” I grunt.

The puer nods his head enthusiastically and turns away before running off to get the man that I desire. Instead of leaving Drucilla in my bed, alone, I close the door and wake her up. She moans and turns to me. Reaching for her gown, I toss it at her, jerking my chin so that she will get dressed.

It doesn’t take me long to put my clothing back on and she does the same. Bending down, I find her sandals and hand them to her. She puts them on, then stands, confusion written all over her face.

Taking her hand with mine, I tug her behind me as I make my way toward my office. When we arrive in my space, I light the candles to give us some light, my mutilated face forgotten by the activities of the evening, or at least at the back of my mind.

I guide her to a chair and release her hand, touching her shoulder with pressure so that she will take a seat.

She does.

Stepping out of the office, I call for another puer who is standing guard. “Tell Marcellus and the famulus that has been with your future empress all day to join me, immediately.”

He runs away and I make my way back into the room. Sinking down in my chair, I look across my desk at the woman who is my fated. She watches me and I realize that she is seeing me for the first time. I expect to see horror in her gaze, but it is not there, at least not staring back at me.

She smiles softly as she rises to her feet. Slowly, she makes her way toward me, then she lifts her hand and extends her fingers, tracing my scars. The jagged lines from a bear attack a few years ago. She didn’t realize who I was, we were in the middle of a battle and too close to her den and cubs. I did not blame her for protecting her young, I still do not, I just wished that she had not taken it out on my face.

“I usually only like beautiful men, completely unflawed in every way, at least in looks. But I think I prefer this for you, for us. You are handsome, beautiful in your own way. I do not know why, maybe it is just the prophecy, but I couldn’t imagine you any other way, Tiberius.”

Her words are heartfelt and meaningful to her, I just don’t know what they are. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and focus my gaze on hers.

I try to give her what I can, looking directly at her, holding her eyes with my own. She smiles softly, and opens her mouth, but jumps backward when the door opens.

Looking toward the door, I grin at the sight of the pontifex maximus, he is here. Soon the others will arrive and we can find out just what is going on, magic and all.

Chapter Nine

DRUCILLA

The smallish room begins to fill with people, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Laurentia enter. I am so freaking glad to see her. I start to make my way toward her when a strong hand wraps around my hip.

Shifting my head, I look over to Tiberius. He shakes his head once. He doesn’t want me to walk away from him and I don’t know if it’s a sexy possessive thing or it’s a chauvinist control thing, I’m not sure how to feel about it quite yet. I decide right now isn’t the moment to challenge him.

Tiberius clears his throat, then begins to speak. I understand none of his words, at all, instead, I shift my gaze between Marcellus and Laurentia in a silent plea for help. When Tiberius is finished talking, he jerks his chin toward Marcellus.

“Tiberius has instructed that I translate. He has asked the pontifex maximus here to tell us exactly what you are as he is our expert on magic and the gods, our priest.”

“What I am?” I whisper.

Marcellus nods his head, his gaze flicking from Tiberius to me, then back again as he relays my question. Tiberius speaks, then lifts his hand and kind of makes a motion, as if he’s bored and we need to move this along.

I growl in frustration and try to take a step away from him, but he doesn’t allow it, his fingers dig into my hip even harder, keeping me right where he wants me. Even if that’s not what I want.

Chauvinistic, that’s what this move is.

“Yes, Drucilla. What you are. You hold magic, as Tiberius explained, violet color flew from your hand, the same color that matches your eyes.”

Nodding, I lick my lips and stare at him. “It did. That’s never happened to me before, I’m not sure what is going on. I’m kind of terrified,” I admit.

Marcellus nods his head, then translates my words and at my confession of being scared, Tiberius squeezes my hip reassuringly. I like that, far more than I probably should. Then again, I like him far more than I should, of that I’m sure.

The pontifex maximus makes his way toward me. He’s a tiny old man, in fact, he’s kind of cute. Smiling at him as he approaches, I blink at him, watching as he doesn’t smile back. In fact, he doesn’t even flinch. He stares at me, looking deep into my eyes, then finally he has a reaction.

It’s not a