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(Page 3 of 8) Ivaris - Chapter 8 by Jennifer Raney
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We don't know who is loyal and who isn't – except her," Seroan explained.
The Secretary considered this, but remained unconvinced.
"We also have information about the theft," I baited, knowing he would know what I was referring to. "It's connected." I felt sick to my stomach, hoping I hadn't said too much and that this man could be trusted.
"Alright," he said finally, "I will deliver your message to her Highness, and tell her that you wish to speak with her privately. Please wait here," he instructed, and left.
I looked at Seroan and he understood – it was out of our hands now, either we were in or we were out. And out meant square one. Or death.
We waited in silence, too nervous to speak. The clock on the wall mocked us with its steady, calculated tick. I passed the time by fantasizing about our possible misfortune, whether or not the Minister was loyal.
If he wasn't, I could just imagine him returning with a couple very scary looking guys, closing the door behind him.
"Well, I have good news and bad news," he would say in a sinister voice, "The good news is your information is absolutely correct, congratulations. The bad news is," here the two scary guys would impale us with sharp things, and the Minister would end his dramatic killing of us with a flourish, "the bad news is that I am an evil demon, and I am here to take over the world! No one can stop me, not you," he points at our corpses, "not the Empress, not anyone! Muahahahaa!"
An officer entered the meeting room and abruptly interrupted my daydream, "You are to see the Empress immediately, follow me."
My heart nearly beat itself out of my chest I was so relieved. Seroan and I got up and followed the officer into the hall. My legs felt numb as our escort – four elite soldiers, lightly armored but wickedly armed – took their places in front and behind us. I wasn't scared so much as anxious.
The Empress was an intimidating figure, and I had no experience in royal etiquette. Seroan seemed composed except for his flushed cheeks and forehead, he fell into the soldiers' march automatically. I didn't even try; I just kept up and tried to remember not to hyperventilate.
The trek to the Empirial Court was nerve wracking. Every time we came to the top of a stairwell into a magnificent room we still weren't there. Then I remembered the palace had eight levels – six above and two below ground. We were on level four above, the fifth held the Court. The sixth was the Royal chambers, where the Empress lived with her husband – Grand General of the Enoran Armed Forces.
Finally we made it to the fifth floor, and were told to wait with our escort in the foyer at the top of the stairs. The floor was polished pure white marble with blue inlays in large chevron patterns. The ceiling was at least ten feet up, maybe twelve, and decorated with blue and gold tapestries. On either side of the stairway were great alabaster sculptures – a roaring lion and a prancing warhorse, lifelike versions of the symbols on the Crest of Enora.
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