The Empress Has a Special Way to Win the Hero

"I won't come to your rooms again until you appoint my cousin." I had been awake for less than ten minutes, and already my husband was bargaining with me over access to my own bedroom. Lord Adrian Vale stood at the foot of the bed in a dark green coat, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore no crown, though he was the emperor's consort and the most photographed man in Veyr. His expression held none of the theatrical anger I remembered from the book. It was worse: calm enough to make the ultimatum sound like a matter of scheduling. I dragged the linen sheet up over my nightgown. "Good morning to you, too." His gaze flicked to the open windows, where gray light came through the curtains. Then he looked back at me. "Good morning, Your Majesty." I knew those eyes. I knew the sharp line of his nose, the small scar at his left eyebrow, the silver ring he wore on his thumb. I had read about them in a romance novel called The Consort's Crown, before I died in a car accident and woke inside its first chapter. The book's heroine was Empress Isolde, a ruler with a talent for winning over the cold, handsome male lead. The original Isolde had answered Adrian's demand by smiling, promising his cousin a place in the royal household, and inviting him to stay. I remembered the scene because it was the last time the novel pretended her behavior counted as love. "What appointment?" I asked. Adrian's jaw tightened. "My cousin, Celia, has spent six months directing the western relief warehouses. The storm took the roof off the capital depot, and the board still hasn't confirmed her as Commissioner of Emergency Stores." "Is she qualified?" "She has run the work since February." "That wasn't my question." His eyes narrowed. "She has the figures. She has the experience. And she's had to watch men with less of both take credit for her work." I shifted on the pillows. My head throbbed. The doctors had told the household that I had taken a fall down the east staircase. I remembered nothing of it. I remembered a different life, a different name, and the plot of a book I had assumed would stay fiction. "Then why threaten me?" "Because I asked you twice. You told me the appointment would be reviewed. The board's meeting is today. If you refuse to use your authority, at least stop pretending you intend to." His voice stayed level, but his right hand had curled around the silver ring. It was the only sign he was holding himself back. The romance novel had called Adrian proud, difficult, and impossible to impress. It had never mentioned what he sounded like when he was tired. "Your cousin has a real grievance," I said. "That doesn't mean I can promise her the post before I see the record." "You can. You simply don't want to." He had a reason to think that. Isolde in the book used appointments as gifts, and her interest in Adrian had made his family a target. I didn't know whether this version of him had suffered the same thing. I only knew I had arrived in a marriage already full of debts I had not incurred and promises I had not made. "Celia will be considered on the merits," I said. Adrian gave a short, humorless breath. "You're asking me to believe that phrase means something." "I'm telling you what I can stand behind." "And I'm telling you what I will do." He turned toward the door. "If you want me in this marriage, stop treating my family like an entry in your ledger." I pushed the covers back and swung my feet to the floor. Pain flared behind my eyes. "Wait." He paused, but didn't turn. "I don't want you here because I ordered it." "That's convenient." "I'm not asking you to stay." At that, he faced me again. "I'm asking you not to leave because you believe I'll use the appointment to trap you," I said. "I don't know what the old Isolde promised you. I won't pretend I do. I can hear Celia's case, and I can guarantee she'll be judged by a panel that includes no one from my household. But I won't guarantee the outcome." He studied me with a stillness that made me feel the distance between the woman in this room and the heroine in the book. "You don't remember what you promised?" "I remember waking up in this bed. I remember your face. I remember that I don't want to make another promise I can't keep." His fingers loosened around the ring. Before he could answer, the doors opened. My chief secretary, Mr. Fen, entered with two clerks behind him. He stopped when he saw Adrian by the bed. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "The council is waiting. The western warehouses are requesting emergency funds, and the appointment is on the agenda." Adrian's expression shuttered. "There. Your first test." I stood. The room tilted, then steadied. "My clothes." A maid hurried forward. I kept my eyes on Adrian. "Celia's case will be heard," I said. "You may attend if she wants you there." "And if the board rejects her?" "Then I'll explain the reason to both of you." He looked as if he might say something more. Instead, he stepped aside so the attendants could reach me. As the maids fastened my coat, he spoke once more. "Don't make this a performance for the council." I looked at him in the mirror. "I wasn't planning to." He left before I could see whether he believed me. The book's first chapter had ended with Adrian returning to my bed that night. I had no idea what the last chapter of this life would say. For now, I had a meeting to reach, a headache to hide, and a husband who had given me one clear boundary. I had no right to call it an invitation.