“Time to wake up, Fi.”
Ras leaned over and shook the imperial princess’s shoulder. Still half-buried in blankets atop the bed, Fiarca reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up at Ras with a dreamy smile. Her expression was like a silver flower in bloom, and her childish grin was a far cry from the usual shrewd princess Ras knew.
“I was waiting for a kiss from a charming prince,” she said, in the voice of one still half asleep.
The loose chemise she was wearing as bedclothes revealed glimpses of her pale skin. As much as Ras wanted to run his fingers along her skin, he refrained.
“Sorry, but I’m not in the mood,” he said with a sigh. “My head’s still reeling after yesterday.”
“Really? How come?”
“My dead lover came back to life, and I learned that my friend took her place and died. It takes time to adjust to something like that.”
Fiarca exhaled a long breath, then laughed teasingly. “Are you mad at me?” she asked. “Mad I never told you all this time?”
A scowl appeared on Ras face. “Of course I am. You kept me in the dark for two whole years.”
“Well, I have something to say about that,” said Fiarca, pouting. “How many times do you think I tried to contact you? You had no right to start visiting brothels, no matter how dead you thought I was. Not even that, but you started going after other women as well? I was mortified when I read the reports. And while you were off fooling around, I was stuck here doing my brother’s work day after day.”
“Oh, well, er…”
Ras couldn’t meet her eyes, and he appeared embarrassed.
“I have no excuse for that,” he said at last. “I won’t begrudge you your anger.”
“Well, it’s not your fault—it’s Fon Cigel’s. And to be honest, it did help me out a little.”
“How so?” asked Ras, intrigued.
Still splayed out on the bed, Fiarca gave him a hopeless smile.
“Well, who would think I was still alive after seeing how you drowned your miseries with women? Thanks to you, nobody suspected a thing.”
“I see.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry about it. We’ve got a lot to make up for, you know.”
Fiarca narrowed her violet eyes at Ras, who instinctively took a step back.
✦ ✦ ✦
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“Let’s see. You can start by giving me a kiss.”
Fiarca held out her arms invitingly, and the smile on her lips became playful.
✦ ✦ ✦
“By the way, should you really be dressed like that?” asked Ras, watching the princess drink her morning soup with her long hair still undone.
After pulling him in for a kiss, Fiarca had forced Ras to carry her to the lounge, and now the princess seemed to be in high spirits. She was wearing unisex underclothes, along with a man’s tunic, but while these were enough to cover her modest curves, it was unlikely anyone looking at her would mistake her for a man. Yes, these were the crown prince’s private quarters, but anyone could still come in. There was no telling what might happen, and if anyone realized the princess wasn’t dead after all, there would be chaos.
“It’s okay,” said Fiarca. “Actually, it’s worse if I get caught changing into my disguise. If anyone sees me like this, I can just pretend to be Elmira.”
“I see,” said Ras. “So that’s why she looks so much like you.”
“Yes. Well, she was originally supposed to be my body double. It’s much safer to be a princess if I have someone who can go out in my place, you see. It’s just too bad I had to fake my death before any of that became useful.”
“You don’t say.”
Originally, nobody was meant to even know that Elmira existed, but after the crown prince’s death, her and Fiarca’s roles were reversed. Elmira was dragged into the limelight to play the role of Auriol’s aide, while Fiarca was forced to live a secretive life in her shadow.
“But even if you pass yourself off as Elmira, what if somebody comes into Auriol’s bedroom and sees ‘Elmira’ sleeping there? Wouldn’t that be a problem?”
“Not at all. We’ve secretly put out word that Elmira is the crown prince’s mistress. That way, she can come and go as she pleases.”
“…I suppose that makes sense. It’s a bit harsh on poor Elmira, though.”
While no one would dare speak out against her actions for fear of offending the crown prince, this arrangement made it seem like Elmira had slept her way to the top. It was a stain on her reputation that was wholly undeserved.
“I wish it didn’t have to be that way,” said Fiarca, casting her gaze down regretfully. “Not to mention what people are saying about Aur since his lover so resembles his late sister…”
Elmira’s job required her to be a princess look-alike. It didn’t escape anyone’s notice how Auriol’s new lover just so happened to resemble his late sister. It may have been the only way for Fiarca to fill her brother’s shoes, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel sorry about besmirching his good name.
“Did you really have to do all this?” asked Ras, biting into the fresh bread that Shishka had brought. “What’s wrong with just staying as who you are?”
The Argyll Empire did not prohibit female heirs. On paper, all Auriol’s death should have meant was Fiarca moving up the line of succession. The loss of their young prince would be a bitter blow to the nation, but hardly an insurmountable one.
But Fiarca shook her head sadly.
“Just imagine what would have happened if we hadn’t covered up Aur’s death,” she said.
“You mean…there would have been consequences?”
“Yes. First, our marriage would have gone ahead, and you would have become a member of the imperial family.”
“Would I have? Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”
At the time of Auriol’s death, Ras and Fiarca had been betrothed. Both were members of noble houses, so the marriage was allowed, but Fiarca would have needed to renounce her right to succession and join Ras’s house, being granted new land and a new title.
With Auriol’s death, however, Fiarca could no longer leave her nation without an heir. The only way they could stay together would be for Ras to join the imperial family.
“If I became the empress,” said Fiarca, “then our child would be the next heir. In other words, the future emperor or empress of this nation would be the grandchild of Count Veredica. That puts the balance of the Council in a very fragile position. The other houses are not likely to take it lying down.”
“I see what you mean. Whereas, if Aur was the emperor, they would all at least have the chance to offer their daughters’ hands as concubines.”
“Precisely. As soon as Aur’s death became public, Veredica would be guaranteed influence over this nation’s future. The only way for someone to prevent that would be to assassinate either one of us. But…”
“…If you die, then the nation is plunged into a succession dispute, while anyone who tries to kill me risks making an enemy of both our houses.”
“Either way,” said Fiarca coldly, “civil war is the most likely outcome. And with that inevitability, the Council may decide they’d rather make the first move.”
Ras grimaced. The future the princess described seemed all too plausible.
“Were my family in a more stable position,” said Fiarca, “we wouldn’t have to do all this. Unfortunately, this couldn’t have come at a worse time. The previous war of succession deprived us of heirs, and Father’s health is declining fast. Plus, the war with the Padyne Federation all but eradicated our nation’s military.”
“All the ingredients for a revolution,” Ras noted.
“Quite. So you see, I had to do whatever I could to ensure Aur lived on.”
“Hence the cross-dressing. You make a convincing Aur, I’ll give you that.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” said the princess, folding her arms across her meager chest. She shot Ras a nasty glare, but Ras still couldn’t help but be amused. The disappointing figure Fiarca had so lamented back in the day was working in her favor now.
“It wasn’t all smooth sailing,” Fiarca explained. “Luckily, Aur wasn’t much taller than me, so it wasn’t hard to match his height with some false-bottomed shoes. As for my voice, there’s a tiny device inside my mask that lowers the pitch, and auramancy changes the color of my eyes. Elmira’s been teaching me how to act more like a man; the Silver Fangs possess quite a knack for disguise, it seems.”
“So how many people are in on all this?” Ras asked.