Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (urban books to read .TXT) 📕

“Sucidava,” he says.

“That is three days’ ride. Who will keep Decima in line?”

Though since making my deal with her a few days ago, she has not been a problem, but I cannot ensure that if I am not here to watch her.

“Take her with you. The maga is said to be able to control the venefica, she is that strong.”

“Send a messenger. Tell the maga that the emperor is coming.”

Without another word, I turn from my brother and walk directly toward Decima who is still watching me with her curved lips turned up. Her eyes widen and even brighten before my own as I approach her.

“Have the famulus pack enough for a six-day trip. We depart imminently,” I announce.

Not wishing to hear her voice, I turn from her and walk back into the domum. I decide to call on my own servi to pack my things. He doesn’t need much instruction, he has been my private servi for at least a decade.

Sitting in my office chair, I bow my head and pray to the gods. I wonder if I should make a sacrifice or not. In the end, I decide to go ahead and I make a sacrifice to the god, Rex.

Taking a sheep, I guide it to the temple and spend a while not only making the sacrifice, but asking for guidance and wisdom. Then, for the first time in my life, I ask the gods for help. I have never needed help, not from the gods, nor have I ever wanted it. Not until now.

“Help me, gods. Help me find and bring back Drucilla. I think that I love her.”

There is thunder that cracks and rolls outside, but I ignore it, knowing that I will ride Felix through whatever storm is heading my way so that I may get to the maga and ask her for more help.

I will end up owing more than I can ever repay, but that is a debt that I am willing to have against me, especially if it means having Drucilla back. I will pay any cost, whatever it is, to have her again.

Leaving the temple, I make my way toward Felix. He neighs and I slide my hand down his neck. What is it? I ask him.

There is a storm, it is not natural.

Looking up, I notice that the clouds are purple. The same color as the venefica’s mist, the same color as Drucilla’s eyes, her tears, and the same color as the storms that she could bring in with her emotions.

It is either the venefica’s playing or it is Drucilla.

Felix doesn’t respond immediately, he neighs again and I take the moment to mount him as Brutus races toward me. I watch as Decima and her trunk come toward me in a horse-drawn chariot.

“This will slow us down,” I announce.

“Six days is quite a bit, I need my things,” she snorts.

“Then you will travel alone,” I state.

She harrumphs but doesn’t make a move to remove herself from the chariot. Instead, she holds my eyes with her own. She expects me to back down, perhaps she’s trying to manipulate me with magi, but it won’t work, not this time.

“Perhaps one of your men can guide me?” she asks coolly.

I let out a snort, but I do not allow just one man to assist her. “No tricks,” I bark as I call over four men to guide her toward the maga.

She knows not where we are going. I do not plan on telling her, either. Only my men know, and that is the way I plan on keeping it from now until our arrival. We will ride ahead of her, by days, and hopefully by the time she catches up, the maga will be able to do something.

Jerking my chin up, I send a silent message to Felix and tell him to ride hard and fast toward our destination. He whinnies and takes off quickly, leaving a trail of dust behind him and in Decima’s face. I try not to smile at that fact, but I cannot help myself.

Bending slightly, I face forward, I focus and I ride. Felix, my trusted friend, does not dally. In fact, we do not stop until he cannot go any longer. Brutus and three other men are with me, their horses also keeping pace as they are warriors and warriors’ steeds.

We all make camp, though I wonder if the weather will hold as the thunder rolls through the sky and it is still a hazy purple with mist all around us.

“Is it magi?” Brutus asks.

“Yes, though I am unsure of which kind. I wish that Drucilla’s was a different color,” I mutter. “I do not like this.”

“We will find her, we will bring her home,” Brutus ensures, though I cannot be so confident.

I am hopeful, and this is my final hope. I have sacrificed to the gods, I have asked for their help, and now I am going to the maga.

DRUCILLA

It has been a week. No, I take that back. It has been two weeks. The hospital stay was fruitless. Chad couldn’t figure anything out. No tests yielded a single result. He has called me every single day since I was released, as much as I want to tell him to fuck off, the sexy bastard is wearing me down. But then I remember Tiberius and the fact that Chad is so not him, which makes me feel sick, and I don’t end up returning his call.

Work has also been lackluster. I go in, do the bare minimum and come home. I find myself staring at my powered off television screen for hours. I see nothing, not a single thing.

I think, and I daydream. I wonder where Tiberius is, then I wonder what or who he’s doing. Then I get pissed off. It’s a cycle that I need to break, because as each day passes, I come to the conclusion, to the realization, that I won’t be going