Reckless
Brothers.
"That man tried to enter the King's chambers!"
The officer was an onyx Goyl, and he spoke the language of Austry with barely an accent. Will didn't take his eyes off Jacob as he stepped back to the officer's side. Still the same face, and yet as different from his brother as a wolf was from a dog. Jacob turned his back on him; he could no longer bear to look at him.
"Jacob Reckless." He offered his saber to the guards. "I have come to speak with the Empress."
The guard who took the saber whispered something to his officer. Jacob's portrait, which the Empress had ordered after he brought her the glass slipper, was probably still hanging somewhere in the palace.
Will still had his eyes on him as the guards led Jacob away. Forget you ever had a brother, Jacob. He already has.
44
The Empress
It had been a long time since Jacob had last stood in the Empress's audience chamber. Even when he or Chanute delivered something she'd been eager to get for years, it was usually one of her Dwarfs who'd negotiate the reward or give the next assignment. The Empress only granted personal audiences when an item had been particularly dangerous to acquire, as had been the case with the glass slipper and wishing table, and when the story attached to it had sufficient blood and death in it. Therese of Austry would have made a great treasure hunter if she hadn't been born the daughter of an Emperor.
She was sitting behind her desk when the guards brought Jacob to her. The silk of her bright dress was embroidered with elven glass, and it was as yellow as the roses on her desk. Her beauty was legendary, but war and defeat marked her face. The lines around her brows were more defined, the shadows under her eyes darker, and her gaze had grown even colder.
One of her generals and two of her ministers were standing by the windows through which there was a clear view of the roofs and towers of the city and of the distant mountains the Goyl had already conquered. Jacob turned, and only then did he notice the adjutant standing next to the bust of a previous Emperor. Donnersmarck had accompanied him on three of his expeditions for the Empress. Two of them had been successes and had brought Jacob a lot of money, and Donnersmarck a medal and a promotion. They were friends, though the look Donnersmarck gave Jacob didn't show it. There were a few more medals on his uniform than on their last encounter, and when he walked over to join the general, Jacob noticed he was dragging one leg. Compared to war, treasure hunting was a harmless pastime.
Auberon, Therese's favorite among the Dwarfs, smoothed the Empress's dress as she stepped out from behind her desk. She was still as slender as a young girl.
"What is this, Jacob? Did I not order you to find the hourglass? Instead I have to learn that you're in my palace, dueling with my future son-in-law's bodyguard."
Jacob bowed his head. She didn't like it when you looked her in the eyes. "I had no choice. He attacked me, and I defended myself." His arm was still bleeding. His brother's new signature.
"Surrender him, Your Majesty," one of the ministers said. "Or better yet, have him shot yourself, to prove your desire for peace."
"Nonsense," the Empress replied testily. "As if the war hasn't cost me enough already. He's one of my best treasure hunters — even better than Chanute."
She stepped so close to Jacob that he could smell her perfume. There was a rumor that she had magic poppy-juice mixed into it. If you inhaled too deeply, you did whatever she told you.
"Did someone pay you? Someone who doesn't like this peace? Well, give him a message from me: I don't much like it, either."
"Majesty!" One of the ministers glanced at the door as if the Goyl were listening on the other side.
Jacob looked at Donnersmarck, but his glance was not returned.
The Empress's face went as blank as her daughter's.
"The Fairy?"
She tried valiantly to sound unconcerned, but her voice gave her away. Hatred and disgust — Jacob heard them both. And anger. Anger that she feared the Fairy so much. "What do you want from her?"
"Give me five minutes alone with her. You won't regret it. Or is your daughter happy her groom brought his dark mistress to the wedding?"
Careful, Jacob. But he was too desperate to be careful. She had stolen his brother. And he wanted him back.
The Empress exchanged a glance with the general.
"He's as disrespectful as his former master," she said. "Chanute used that same impertinent tone with my father."
"Five minutes," Jacob repeated. "Her curse cost you your victory. And thousands of your subjects."
She looked at him pensively.
"Majesty!" the general said, but kept his mouth shut after she shot him a warning look. She turned around and returned to her desk.
"And, Jacob!" she called as the Dwarfs opened the door. "Forget about the hourglass! I want a wishing sack!"
45
Past Times
Jacob had no idea how he found his way back to the hotel. In every window he passed, he saw his brother's contorted face, and every woman passing him looked like the Dark Fairy.
It couldn't be over. He would find her. At the wedding. At the station, when she'd board the King's onyx-black train. Or in the hanging palace, despite her snakes. He could no longer tell what was driving him: the hope of somehow getting Will back, the hunger for revenge, or simply his injured pride.
The hall of the hotel was crowded with newly arrived guests, their luggage, and harried bellboys. Everybody had come for the wedding. There were even some Goyl who attracted more looks and whispers than the Empress's younger sister. She had arrived without her potentate husband from the east and was clad in black fur, as though in mourning over her niece's wedding.
The ceremony would take place the next day, that much Jacob had found out, in the cathedral where Therese of Austry had also been wed, just like her father before her.
The chambermaid had mended and washed Jacob's clothes, and he was holding them under his arm as he unlocked his room. He dropped them as soon as he saw the man standing by the window. Donnersmarck turned around before Jacob could draw his pistol. His uniform was pristine white, as if to blot out the fact that the more usual colors of a soldier were mud and blood.
"Is there any room to which the adjutant to the Empress does not have access?" Jacob asked as he gathered up his garments and closed the door behind him.