The Heart of Alchemy by James Wisher (i like reading books txt) 📗

Each individual or group approached the throne, bowed, and went to mingle. In addition to the Garenland nobles, the governors he’d assigned to the new provinces had come via portal for the gathering. Even former King Liatos and his daughter had been set free for the night. Mainly so Otto could see who dared speak to him and listen in on what they discussed.

He would have ordered the gala canceled, but Otto pointed out that an emperor needed to be seen by his people. It was also a perfect chance to eavesdrop on the nobles and merchants to discover what they really thought about the empire. Meeting and greeting, listening to them complain or flatter, all of it served a purpose.

The stiff collar of his black and gold formal uniform scratched his neck and he yanked it away. He was emperor for heaven’s sake! He should be able to wear whatever he wanted and receive nothing but compliments.

When the throne room door finally thudded shut, the band started playing soft music and servants began to circulate, bearing heavily loaded trays of food and orders to keep their ears open and mouths shut. Otto had yet to put in an appearance. He would be busy spying on the proceeding via some magic or other. There never seemed to be a moment of rest for his dear friend.

Well, if Otto could do his work, the least Wolfric could do was circulate and act like an emperor. His first stop was the hors d’oeuvres table where Edwyn Franken was piling a plate high. Annamaria stood a few feet away looking stunning in a white gown, her hair done up with silver clasps. He hadn’t been nearly diligent enough in visiting his old friend and that would have to change.

When they spotted him approaching, Edwyn bowed without losing a roll and Annamaria dipped a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesty,” they said in unison.

“I’m pleased you both made it, though I must apologize about keeping Otto too busy to escort you properly.”

Annamaria smiled and waved off his concern. “It’s fine. I often go days without seeing Otto, sometimes weeks. All for the greater good of the empire, I’m sure. It is a great honor for our family that you trust him with such important tasks.”

“Indeed,” Edwyn chimed in. “I fear I won’t be able to hand off the running of our business to him for many years.”

“I say with all honesty that without Otto, not only would the empire not exist, I might well be dead several times over.” Much as he would have enjoyed spending the whole evening with Annamaria and her father, Wolfric needed to move on. “Enjoy the gala.”

“Be sure to pay us a visit when you can,” Annamaria said.

Wolfric smiled but made no promises. He did make a mental note to arrange an afternoon visit sometime soon. He eased his way through the crowd, chatting with this governor and that baron. A couple dukes bent his ear about a promising new farming technique he couldn’t have cared less about.

“Your Majesty!” He turned to find Governor Varchi plowing through the gathering like a charging warhorse.

The former general had gained about twenty pounds since taking on his new position and his hair was slicked back with some black oil. He really did look the part of a nobleman now. More’s the pity.

“Governor. You’re looking well. I’m pleased to see you made it for the gala.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it. If you have a moment, I need to speak with you about Otto Shenk.”

Wolfric winced. He’d already heard all the man’s complaints about Otto stealing both his mithril and the best scouts in the Northern Army. As if either of those things actually belonged to him.

“What about Otto?” Wolfric asked. He made his tone hard enough to cut glass.

“When is he planning to return my scouts?”

“Why, do you have an enemy position you need spied upon?”

“No, but they’re assigned to the Northern Army. If he doesn’t need them, they should be sent back to Straken.”

“Let me make this clear,” Wolfric said. “And I’ll use small words to be sure there’s no misunderstanding. If Otto wants the scouts, they’re his until he’s finished with them. You may consider them no longer a part of the Northern Army and therefore no longer your concern. I swear, if I hear one more word about either those men or the mithril, I’ll see you reassigned to oversee the cleaning of Tharanault’s sewer system. Do I make myself clear?”

Varchi had the good sense to look ashamed. “Of course, Your Majesty. I—”

Wolfric spotted an unfamiliar face in the crowd and left the governor talking to himself. He didn’t know who the woman was, but the glimpse he caught of her made him want to know more.

He found her standing near the right-hand wall beside a man old enough to be her father. She wore a black gown accented with silver jewelry. Her skin was a deep bronze rarely seen in the capital. Green eyes grew wide at his approach. She and her companion both made their obeisances as he drew near.

“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to speak with you,” the man said. “My name is Baron Martinique St. Croy and this is my niece, Jade. When I received the invitation to the gala, she insisted on joining me. My wife has been unwell of late and willingly gave up her place.”

“My pleasure, Your Majesty.” Jade blushed in a most fetching manner.

“Where is your holding?” Wolfric asked.

“Far to the south, near the Rolan border,” the baron said.

“It must have been a difficult journey. I trust the roads weren’t too rough.” He addressed this last question to Jade.

She shook her head, her long, dark hair partially covering her face as she looked down, too nervous to meet his gaze. “They were fine, Majesty. It was exciting to leave the barony and make the journey. I’ve always wanted to visit the capital.”

“And is Garen everything you hoped it