Free Shadow’s Lure by Jon Sprunk Page A

be ill. A servant appeared with a silver platter, and Hubert handed her a gold chalice. The people in the crowd held crystal glasses filled with wine.
    Hubert raised his glass. “Lords and ladies of Nimea, good gentles, I present to you Empress Josephine.”
    Josey forced herself to smile as she lifted her cup to the crowd. Looking out over their faces, seeing them watching her, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She considered taking a sip of wine to stall for time, but thought it would appear rude. These were her people. They wanted to hear from her.
    “Good people,” she began.
    A shout from the other end of the room made a few heads turn. Hubert craned his neck to see.
    Josey tried to go on with her speech. “We thank you, one and all, for attending—”
    A loud crash startled her. Cold wine from her cup spilled down her gown. Hubert jumped down from the stage, leaving Josey alone. On the floor, everyone faced away toward the main doors. Wiping at her bodice with her hands, and only making the mess worse, Josey couldn’t see the source of the commotion. Then a shout rang out.
    “Death to the usurper whore!”
    A man ran through the crowd straight toward the stage. Josey froze. People backed away, and she didn’t blame them when she caught sight of the man. He had the look of a madman, with great bulging eyes that focused on her like a coursing hound on a hare. He was dressed in some type of uniform. It took her a moment to realize it was the livery of a palace servant.
    Josey backed away, fearing the man was about to leap upon the stage to assault her, but he stopped at the foot of the platform.
    There, raising his left fist into the air, he shouted aloud, “Long live the Church of the True Faith! And death to the usurp—”
    His words were muffled under the press of several large guardsmen. Hubert reappeared. He blanched when he saw her.
    “Majesty, are you …?”
    Josey looked down at the stain spreading across her bosom. “It’s just wine.”
    “Thank goodness. Perhaps we should retire in light of this.”
    The crowd buzzed as the agitator was dragged away. Few people were paying her any attention, and those who did wore unreadable expressions. Josey couldn’t tell if they were relieved to see the man go, or sorry.
    “One moment, Hubert.”
    Josey held up her cup as she raised her voice. “Some of you don’t know much about me. Most of you, in fact. But I want to remedy that in the coming days.” She cleared her throat, not sure where to go from there. Then she recalled something her foster father had once said to her. “Nimea was once a nation of culture and gentility, a nation who welcomed her neighbors and grew prosperous through mutual benefit. Those days can return. They shall return. To Nimea! Long may She stand.”
    A couple of glasses went up. Scattered responses arose, and gained strength as more and more people took up the call. After a moment, the entire assembly repeated the toast.
    Hubert watched with wide eyes. Then he turned to her and bowed. “Majesty.”
    Taking his arm, Josey allowed herself to be led down from the stage. Guards surrounded them as they walked out. Behind them, music began to play over the thunder of applause.
    Anastasia found them in the corridor. She rushed through the hedge of soldiers and hugged Josey, heedless of the wine stain. “Thank the Light! I saw everything. Are you all right?”
    “I’m all right. Just a little shaken up.”
    Josey looked to Hubert over Anastasia’s shoulder. She expected him to say something, but he appeared to find the floor tiles of great interest.
    “It’s a travesty,” Anastasia went on. “The Imperial Guard should have put better precautions in place.”
    “Everything is fine, ’Stasia. It was just someone seeking attention.”
    “But the things he said!”
    Josey put on a smile. “It’s nothing. Will you stay at the palace tonight?”
    “I would, Josey. I mean ‘Your Majesty.’ But Father will be expecting