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

curved up and the smile even reaches his eyes. He’s happy, truly happy, and I wonder if he ever thought he could be this way with me, with his fated, or with a wife at all.

I don’t ask him.

Instead, I dip my chin, returning his smile with one of my own. “I am,” I say.

He guides us over to a long table where there are several people already seated, however, I notice that the two chairs in the middle are empty and facing the dance floor. The backs of the two chairs are taller than all the others and there is a plate heaping with food placed in front of each of them, along with a goblet of what I assume is wine.

Tiberius holds the chair out for me and I sink down in the seat as he pushes it in, then he sits down beside me. I hadn’t noticed that everyone else at the tables stood when we approached and are now settling into their seats as well.

“Manducare,” Tiberius rasps, keeping his voice low.

Looking over to him, I frown. “Nobody else is eating,” I point out.

His lips curve up into a grin. “Nobody manducares before the emperor. And the emperor does not manducare before his empress.”

“Is that second part a rule?” I ask, arching a brow.

He shakes his head once. “A personal one. My father did not care who was at his table, he was the first to manducare, always.”

“But you care?”

Tiberius’ lips curve up into a grin and he watches me for a moment, then he reaches out and picks up a piece of meat from his plate. I expect him to bring it to his lips. I watch as he brings his arm up, then I am shocked when he places the meat at my own lips.

Opening my mouth, I allow him to place the food on my tongue. He smiles the entire time, watching me chew, then he leans in and touches his mouth to my neck, just below my ear.

“I care deeply, Drucilla. You are my empress, you come first.”

Goose bumps break out over my entire body. I close my eyes and bite back the moan, not only from his sweet words but also at his closeness.

I miss my husband.

I want him.

The rest of the meal, we don’t talk, mainly because I am so immersed in the people around us. I watch everything that is going on. People watching is so my thing. If I’m not in the middle of the party, I like to watch it happening around me. There is no in-between for me.

“Would you like to dance?”

Turning my head, I look over to my husband. “You dance?” I ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I do.”

The only time I have danced here was when I first arrived and Marcellus was pretending to be my warrior. I knew the truth, I knew that Marcellus was not the man who plucked me up, placed me on his horse and rode.

“I would love to dance with you,” I murmur.

A few moments later we are on the dance floor. The people stand to the side as we walk by and it’s odd, but also really freaking cool.

I’m royalty.

Once we’re on the dance floor, I attempt to dance the way that I’ve been watching the others do. I’m not very good at it, but I don’t mind, and judging by the way Tiberius is smiling, neither does he.

We dance. We dance as if we do not have a care in the world, as if there aren’t magical forces after us, as if there isn’t some mystical prophecy, as if I’m not from another world. We just laugh, smile, and dance, and it’s not for the first time that I am grateful Decima gave me my desired wish to be able to speak and understand the language.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

DRUCILLA

As the night wanes on, I drink more and dance longer. Cassia and I end up dancing with one another and although I tried to get Laurentia to join us, she politely declines. I didn’t understand why, she’s my girl now, and no way would I let anything happen to her, but she still declined.

Tiberius has even let loose as the night goes on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much, though I must admit that I haven’t known him in a regular circumstance.

“Mulier,” he shouts.

Turning around, I wonder why he is shouting wife at me from just a few feet away. I see him standing with Brutus and a beautiful woman. Cassia giggles from next to me, but then Marcellus appears and guides her away, I frown at the sight of him taking her, but turn back to Tiberius.

Making my way toward Brutus and the woman, I smile as I approach. “This is my mulier, Tullia,” Brutus announces. “We will be taking our leave, but I know that you’ve not had a chance to meet yet.”

Turning to the woman, I hold out my hand. She shakes her head and closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around me. “Welcome, cousin,” she whispers against my ear.

Smiling, I take a step back and thank her. “We are to take our leave,” she says, her voice soft and sweet.

I can see why Brutus would choose her. She is petite, soft, and sweet in demeanor to his tall, hulking, brute. They are not a match, and yet, they match quite perfectly to one another—they complement one another well.

“But we’ve just met,” I say, pouting because I’m drunk.

Apparently, I act like a child when I’ve had way too much wine. I’ve never been an out-and-party wine drinker, typically I would go for something with fewer calories, but it’s not like they have much else here to choose from.

“Sorry, we must be going, we will join you soon,” Brutus announces.

I don’t understand his words, though I assume he means they’re going to pop over for dinner or something soon. Lifting my hand, I wave to them as they walk away and