by Scottie Kaye
She stared at the scrawled lines. "He—no. He doesn't love me. Yet." She looked up at Jorr. "This is good. Thank you."
He held out a hand, and took the page again, and signed it. "Good," he said. "Then you're all set—"
"I don't understand," Lassyne blurted. Jorr looked up.
"I—I thought you wanted me here. As a truth mage," she said.
He cocked his head. "Well, of course I do. But let's face it, Lassyne—that was always a pipe dream. Magic like yours is above my pay grade. Hells, it's above anyone's pay grade. Your parents forewent their firstborn son to give you a duchy—you, a woman they think frail and hysterical." He rose then, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You have incalculable value, Lady True. Of course I'd seize on any chance whatsoever, however slim, to have you in my House of Thorns."
"But," she stammered. What was he saying? Incalculable value? Me? "But... but I...."
He laughed, and pulled her abruptly into an embrace. She pressed against him like a wooden board.
"And besides," he whispered into her hair, "I did get to bring you to orgasm. That alone was worth the cost of finding you." He kissed her cheek. "It's too bad you've pledged your fidelity to General Stone, because I really would have liked to do it again."
"I—what—" Her mind spun. She leaned back from him, frowning. "Wait. Did you say General Stone?"
He chuckled. "Call it a wedding present. He's been promoted." He tapped his nose. "The crown was quite pleased to hear about your marriage, you see. Your union to Loren will cement a few key alliances we've been stressing over. So Loren's been rewarded for attracting you here. Everybody wins."
General. The highest rank of a military man, ever. I'm going to marry a general....
"I—thank you," she managed. "It's all... so much. Thank you...."
He stepped away. "Don't thank me," he said. "You're the one that brought yourself here. Have a little faith in yourself, Lady True."
With that, he bowed formally at the waist in the Soma fashion. Upon rising, he said, "You have a wonderful day tomorrow, Lassyne, and a restful night toni—"
"Wait," she said. He cocked his head, his black eyes flat. She kept expecting the sexual tension to return, but he seemed as detached as a coat rack. Almost as if he didn't want her. The first man she'd ever known who didn't want her....
"This—this is why you brought me here, isn't it?" she said. "All of that at Mirage... you wanted me to marry Loren! You told me about the Rose Contract, the buyout, told me where Loren was.... You gave me all the information I needed. You knew I'd figure out how to marry him, to get out of the Thorns...."
She trailed off. Of course he had known. He was a spymaster! Everything he'd done had been for this. To keep Soma safe. Jorr had never wanted her to be a Thorn to begin with. He'd wanted her alliance.
Jorr smiled at her, tilted his head, and winked. "I guess you'll never know for sure, will you?"
With that, he vanished from the room as silently as he'd entered. He left Lassyne confused, still standing uncertainly in the middle of her barren wood floor.
"I..." she said aloud, but the thought didn't complete. Her eyes fell to her empty mattress. She tried to understand what she was feeling; not betrayal, but something else. Something that made her blood surge in her veins.
Yes, she had wanted Jorr Portent; she could understand that now. But it was more than that. The man had achieved a massive political goal by making her think that it was her goal, her dream. He had led her by the nose, pulled her strings, and made her like it. How many times had she seen Ossyne do the same thing to her mother, her father, their staff? Bend and twist them to think she was "frail and hysterical"?
This is the real power, she realized. It wasn't the same as putting a collar on a person or a lock on a door. It was leading them into something they wanted, making them blind to the rest. It was Ossyne, leading their parents to leave her alone with him, to trust his word over hers, to grant him power over her estate, to discredit her. It was Ragen, watching as a young Loren enjoyed himself—until he was too happy, too drunk to fight back.
I'm walking into a trap. A perfect trap. I have no control at all....
Everything she had done, every move she'd made had been watched, recorded. She'd been powerless all along.
Lassyne curled her hands into fists. No. I will not be powerless. She turned to her nightstand and pulled out the single drawer. In it, she'd stowed the essay on dominance.
I won't be powerless. Not now, not ever.
She burned a candle, and she started to read.
Twenty
Orra tried to dress Lassyne in the same virgin outfit as Zaina, a layered monstrosity of ivory on white. Lassyne waved her off and asked her for coins. "Gold ones," she said. "I don't care if they're fake."
"Coins?" Orra asked, clearly puzzled.
"Yes," Lassyne said. "For my dress. If I can just sew a few of them around the hem—"
"Oh," Orra said. "Your Arrival tradition. Well, sure. I can get some."
Lassyne caught herself relaxing. That was one piece of the plan handled. "And some needle and thread, please. I'll pay you back."
After Orra left, Lassyne slunk into the hallway. She padded down to the next door, and knocked softly. No one answered.
"Mikail?" she called, raising her voice. "Mikail? Are you there?"
Nothing. Frowning, she turned the handle and peered into the room. Apparently, that's what everyone did here, unless there was something slipped under the door.
Kail's room was dark, empty, the bathroom door open and unlit.
"Hey, gorgeous. Do you need something?"
She turned to see Kail standing directly beside a wall sconce, back the way she'd come, only two paces behind her. She frowned. She hadn't heard him walk up—and where had he been? In Orra's room? The guards' quarters at the end of the hall? He seemed to be flushed, a bit pink in the cheeks. It was easy to see he was nervous.
"Yes, actually," she said, closing his door. She smiled at him, perfectly aware that she wore only her shift as she crossed her arms and inhaled. His eyes lingered where they were supposed to.
"Um," he managed, lifting his blue gaze back to hers with what looked like real effort. "How can I help?"
She closed the gap between them, fingering his collar with one hand. Peering up at him from under her long eyelashes, she said, "You remember that iron ring in my wall?"
He swallowed, almost a gulp. "Yes?"
Lassyne raised her chin, her nose close to his. "Are you into that sort of thing?"
"I...." He swallowed again. "I dabble."
She traced his jaw with a fingertip. "Then maybe you can help me with something," she said. "There's this little item I'd like you to get...."
Orra tested Lassyne again before she headed to Loren's quarters. "Just in case you strayed last night," she said, as her magic flowed into Lassyne through her lips. Orra's magic worked through taste, but Lassyne didn't mind. Kissing girls did nothing for her, but it wasn't something she minded too much.
After the kiss, Orra swayed on her feet, then sat on Lassyne's bedside as she processed her Reading. Lassyne waited patiently; she'd been through a similar process before, given that most of her family—but for her brother—were Read mages, able to see people's thoughts in one way or another. Although now that she thought about it, she did wonder why she had had her virginity tested yesterday; why had Orra given her the go-ahead early? That had to be bad for business. A woman could do a lot in a night.
It was a precaution, she thought. Plausible deniability. In case I got carried away when Jorr came to visit. In case Hellen tried to sabotage me. In case anything at all happened before I slept with Loren. Soma can't afford for me to be lying.
Which meant that she'd been watched, if Orra was testing her now. They already knew she'd done nothing. They were keeping up appearances.
Lies within lies, layers within layers. At least I can see some of it now.
Why hadn't she figured this o
ut sooner? Why hadn't she used Ossyne's own powers against him, and manipulated her parents into believing her instead?
But no—she had done that. Or at least, she had tried. She had spent her life learning to manipulate others, just to stay alive, to stay sane. How many guards and servants had she put her mouth on, to give her things that her parents wouldn't give her? How much acting had she done for her parents, to keep her from being left alone with her brother?
No. She'd been doing this all her life, and she was good at it. Ossyne had just had power over her for much longer, from the day of her birth. He'd had more time to plan, a more malleable victim to work with. And besides, it was easier, in Olfact, to believe a woman was frail, than to believe a perfect, loving son was a killer.
Well, I'm not frail, and I'm not a victim, she thought. And I'm going to get what I want out of Loren.
He would be clay in her hands by the time she was done with him. And he would want to be that clay. She would never again be under another person's control. And, even better, she loved him.
"Mmm," Orra said, her hazel eyes cloudy. She laughed mirthlessly. "You didn't know...."
Lassyne frowned down at her. "I didn't know what?"
Orra's gaze rose slowly, as if she were ill. "About Zaina." She scoffed to herself. "I thought you were just a bitch. Everyone thought you were a bitch.... But you just didn't know, didn't listen...."
Lassyne tensed as Orra stood, stumbling toward the door. "Didn't know what?" she asked Orra.
Orra glanced back, her palm on the handle. "Didn't know that you killed Zaina. With the Truthing."
Oh, this again. Lassyne stepped forward and held the door for Orra, who still looked unsteady on her feet. It was time to go to Loren now, but she needed this explained. She didn't want to hear it ever again.
"I didn't kill anyone, Orra," Lassyne said.
"No," Orra said. "No. She killed herself."
"No she didn't," Lassyne replied. "I saw her afterward, in the library."
When she said the words, Orra smiled at her lazily. "Ha. You musta been seeing things...."
Lassyne made a face. "I saw what I saw, Orra. Seriously. Zaina was in the library, just after the Truthing. What? Was she supposed to be dead?"
This time, Orra's face went dead still.
"What?"
"I saw her. In the—"
Orra slapped a hand to Lassyne's mouth, her gaze darting up and down the hall. "Shut up," she hissed. She gulped in air, clearly struggling to get all her focus back. She leaned closer to Lassyne. "Damn it, girl. I told you about this, about the rules of the House. But you didn't listen. Well, listen now: A Thorn can't have sex before selling her Rose Contract. And if she does, then the House has her killed."
Lassyne stopped breathing. What?
"That's why everyone hates you," Orra whispered. "You condemned Zaina to death, and acted like it was nothing."
What? No. This was impossible. Jorr wouldn't—wouldn't kill someone, over that—
"But why?"
"Why?" Orra straightened, looking astounded. "Why do you think, Lassyne? Because a woman with no control can't be in control. Do you think the House wants spies who can be manipulated? Whose emotions, whose desires get the better of them? A spy like that is useless, Lassyne. And sex is the easiest way for them to figure that out. That's why the Rose Contract is the first test."
"But—" Lassyne shook her head, once, twice. "But I saw—"
This time, she stopped herself from saying anything more, because the look on Orra's face could have stopped a drake. It was a malevolent glare, completely foreign on her smile lines. Lassyne had only ever seen Ossyne look so deadly.
"You didn't see anything, Lassyne," she hissed.
And then it made sense. The booth in the library. The quiet, low voices; the call for Loren. The vacated booth, the aura of tension.
Zaina wasn't supposed to be there. She was supposed to be dead.
And yet Hellen and Loren were helping her to escape....
No—not just Hellen and Loren. That whole room. Orra too—everyone.
The Thorns were looking out for each other.
The idea slammed into Lassyne like a brick to the chest as Orra tugged her away down the hall. No wonder—no wonder they hated her! She'd thrown Zaina's life away like it was garbage. She'd almost ruined the girl's damn escape! And she'd shown up out of nowhere and destroyed the system they'd used to decide their initiates' purity—Orra's imperfect Readings, her biased assertions. How easy would it be, for Orra to lie and say a non-virgin was a virgin? And if she was discovered, her magic protected her. After all, it was imprecise, overwhelming. Her ability let her Read an entire life in an instant. It would be easy to miss her subject's first time....
But as Orra led her out of the House of Thorns and to Loren Stone's quarters, a new thought struck Lassyne. And this thought, unlike the others, made her heart race with excitement.
Loren had helped Zaina. Loren had smuggled her out.
I love him. Five gods, I love him.
"Are you ready for this?" Orra asked, stopping before a redwood door. Loren's door. The place where he'd take her.
"I've never been more ready," Lassyne breathed, a grin lighting her face.
It was time. It was time. It was time.
Twenty-One
Loren opened the door with the smile of a man watching the sunrise. Before he said anything, Lassyne reached up and kissed him.
The moment bobbed in her chest like an ice cube in wine. His lips warm, his body arcing toward her, his arm slipping about her waist with ease. She pressed her fingertips to his smooth-shaven cheek as she shut the door behind them both with her foot.
He loosened, the kiss breaking, but only barely. His gaze was hooded as he looked down at her, her body boiling at the feel of his near-instant erection. He swung her side-to-side, like an invitation to dance.
"Loren," she breathed, kissing him a second time. She'd kissed men before, but never like this. Never with this want inside her, with this feeling that every instantaneous brush of his lips could sustain her for a year of her life. Her fingers drifted back along his cheek, below his earlobe, to his hairline. His strange sandy hair meandered into her fingers, long enough for her to twist. She needed this, if only for a few moments. She needed the smallness of these actions, the potential of them. She would only have so many firsts.
He opened his mouth, but she pressed a finger to his lips, and then kissed him again. With a slight shift of her body, she eased him back to his door, until he held her against it, cornering her in his arms.
"You don't know me," she whispered. "I know you don't. But I love you. I'll always love you."
He smiled, confused but with bright, open eyes. He didn't act lustful or impatient. No wonder Zaina had slept with him. Those gray-blue eyes were near impossible to resist.
And she only had to resist them a little while longer. Only until she did for him what she'd done for herself. Only until she'd given him power.
"I know what he did to you," Lassyne said. Loren tensed, but she pressed her lips tight to his. "It's okay, Loren. I want you to know it's okay."
He closed his eyes, his hands on her lower back. His brow was furrowed now, hard with the memory.
"You were a kid," he said. "I thought I'd imagined it." He opened his eyes, his hands rubbing into her back. "You've thought about me, all these years?"
She laughed. "I thought I wanted to heal you," she said. She swung her hips closer, making his need for her obvious. His grip grew tighter on her hips, his neck muscles jumping as he held back a groan.
"I thought that giving you this would be enough," she said, her leg rising against his. "That saving myself for you would make it better. But it won't, will it? You've had women in droves since that night, I can tell. You've paid for first rights to some of them. Has it helped?"
He shook his head no, then said, "But I barely know you...."
"But I know you," she replied, "and I know what you n
eed. I'm going to make you happy, Loren. And then I'm going to make you rich. And then we'll destroy Ragen together, and no one will ever hurt us again."
He growled when she said this, sudden and feral, and then he shoved her into the wall and spread her mouth open with his teeth. She moaned pathetically as his tongue poured into her, thrusting her head to one side, pushing her down and away. Within instants she felt sweat in his hair, on her back, one of her legs rising to his hip as he gathered her skirts. Power, so much power.
"No!" she gasped, tearing away. He didn't stop, kissing a rough path down her neck to her collar. She lost her balance when he let her go, and she staggered backward against the wall. He slowed her sideways tumble as he attacked the buttons at her collar.
"You're not dressed like the others," he said hotly, before his mouth sucked down on her bare neck. She braced herself on the wall as he kissed lower, lower—
"It's tradition," she managed. "One layer, hard to remove...."
He Arrival dress wasn't a sheath this time, but she figured this would work better. The hasha had a high collar, a bit less revealing but still tight, and she could still make the coins along the bottom swing and clink.
"You know what these represent, don't you?" she whispered. "You have to get past my fortune to get to me—"
"Who cares about your fortune," he growled, his voice like fire on her neck. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Lassyne blinked. "But—but you said you didn't know me—"
"Every man knows you. They sing about you in bars, Lassyne. You're a goddess among men, a legend, like your mother. Your family spread rumors, all to drive your price up.... Every man and his brother's had a fantasy about you...."
Every man but Jorr Portent, she thought.
But Loren paused, one of his hands lowering to the coins. He fingered one of them tentatively as he realized what she meant for him to realize.