Blood Mercy (Blood Grace Book 1)

by Vela Roth

  Lio gave a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound forced. Would it disappoint her that he was not as wondrously ancient as she might have imagined? “Guess again.”

  “Oh, we are playing a guessing game, are we?” She tapped her cheek with a finger in contemplation. “Very well. You are old enough to be a fallen god!”

  “Definitely not. Anthros struck down Demergos and left Chera a widow long before I was born. More’s the pity.”

  Cassia’s gaze lit with curiosity. “You are old enough to have been an apprentice in a temple of Hespera before the mages of Anthros and Hypnos drove your cult from human lands.”

  “No, I am sorry to say. Very sorry indeed. I would love to have seen the Great Temple Epoch.”

  “Hmmm. You were at the first Equinox Summit and knocked back too many pints with the Mage King.”

  Lio shook his head, smiling. “Hesperines can’t get drunk. And you know this is my first journey to Tenebra.”

  “But what if your first journey began centuries ago, and you have remained here all this time, hidden by your arcane affinity?” In the glow of his spell light, her eyes glinted with mischief. “You wandered the land during the Feuds of Regnum, when the Council failed to crown a king. While the free lords hacked away at each other for a century and trampled the fields into famine, you secretly helped the folk who suffered.”

  “That was true of many Hesperines at the time, but I was not among them.”

  The light in her eyes winked out. “You remember when Lucis Basileus did not rule Tenebra.”

  Lio’s humor fled. “Yes. I do.”

  “Ah. Older than the king with whom you treat. And you shall outlast him.”

  “There is a vast world of which that is true, Cassia. Your people have a long and honorable history that dates back to a just king and queen, and I hold out hope the Tenebrae have a future brighter than Lucis’s present.”

  “‘Tenebrae?’ Take care you do not say such a thing at the Summit.”

  “I know. No one breathes the word ‘Tenebrae’ in front of the king. No matter that this part of the world has always been called the Tenebrae, a plural.”

  “Indeed, our glorious king has unified the Tenebrae into a single mighty kingdom called Tenebra, in the singular. He has reforged the course of history and even the name his people have called their own lands for centuries. For the safety of the realm, be sure to drop the treasonous ‘e.’”

  Ah ha. There was Cassia’s opinion on the king, hiding beneath her mocking recitation of his decrees.

  Lio grimaced. “It’s hard to believe the king considers one extra letter blatant resistance. He demands that centuries of loyalty to Hadria, Segetia, Otho or Severitas to become loyalty to Tenebra overnight. But the fact remains, this so-called kingdom is really a collection of independent domains under the nominal rule of a king affirmed by the Council of Free Lords.”

  “It was,” Cassia corrected, “until Lucis secured the affirmation, then took royal authority beyond all its traditional bounds and began calling himself Basileus like the Mage King himself.”

  “An offense to a great man from whom he does not descend,” Lio dared say, hoping Cassia would continue to vent her perspective on her father’s reign. “No matter how much Lucis postures, everyone knows he has no hereditary claim on the crown. The Mage King’s line died out ages ago, and Lucis cannot claim descent from any of the dynasties that have held the throne since.”

  Cassia’s voice became icier still. “He staked his claim not on the blood he carries in his veins, but on the blood he has spilled.”

  “As firsthand observers of his reign can surely attest.”

  Then came her shrug. “He is hardly the first free lord to make himself into a king with nothing but the sword.”

  Thorns. Lio had pressed her too far. Did she not realize it was safe to discuss treason with a heretic?

  “Regardless of how his former equals appear to oblige him,” Lio went on, “it would be too generous to say the free lords are convinced of his claim. Especially in the east, where there are only homesteads under the authority of the hold lords. The old name of the Tenebrae remains true there.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about that area,” Cassia observed.

  “There lies the bluff called the Hilt, the doorstep of the wilds, and beyond, nothing but treacherous rivers and impenetrable forests.”

  “Ah, yes, the Hilt. A traditional site for offering sacrifices to the gods. Heretics, for example, or unwanted children.”

  “Hesperines wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  “Of course not.”

  He could not possibly explain to her how much more there was to it than that.

  She had steered the subject back to Lio’s people again. But the knot of wistfulness and anger he felt in her had all to do with the king.

  Could Lio help untangle it? He put on a grin for her. “I must admit I learned all I know of the Hilt secondhand, for I am much too young to venture into the wilds as a Hesperine errant to rescue mortals in distress. I’m only eighty-eight. The customary age for initiation is eighty, but of the six of us, I waited for the others the longest.”

  “Only eighty-eight.”

  “I told you I was young.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’ve barely grown your chin hairs.”

  Lio’s grin turned into a real one. It was good to see her return to their teasing, even if it did come at his chin hairs’ expense. “I’ll have you know I grow a very fine beard. You just have to wait for it. It’s merely a side effect of our bodies’ natural pace. On the one hand, we mature slowly and ultimately cease aging. On the other hand…” He rubbed his chin. “It takes forever to grow a sunbound beard. It seems to stay at that itchy stage for an eternity. My father’s been working on his since before I had teeth, and it’s famous by now. Perhaps I shall eventually find the patience.”

  “Hesperines must take great pride in their hair once it does grow.”

  “Yes. I have friends back home who would be ferociously jealous of your mane.” He let his gaze travel over her hair.

  Her flush was pure music. He readied himself for a retort.

  But she said nothing about his compliment. “Now I understand why none of the males in the embassy wear beards.”

  Cassia, without a clever reply? She was one of the strongest people he had ever met, but the one thing that made her falter was a hint of genuine praise. It took so little to put her so off balance. To touch her so thoroughly.

  Lio was in a unique position. He was not a suitor, nor even a man. She was not hostile to any pretty words he spoke. He was one person who could give her compliments that did not feel like threats, manipulation or attempts to control her. He could show her the pleasure of being noticed and appreciated.

  Flirtation was only words, and words were the one thing they could exchange freely. Safely.

  Forbidden

  Cassia might be watching Knight dig in the ruins, but Lio sensed her attention elsewhere. Focused. Undivided. On him.

  “So you Hesperine males have your own rites of passage, as our warriors do.”

  “Actually, all Hesperines must pass the same Trial to demonstrate our mastery of our Gift. The other three friends I mentioned are all female.”

  Knight pressed against Cassia’s skirts, his tail waving like a battle standard as he held up the stick in his mouth. She rubbed the hound between his ears, smiling down at him despite the dirt he smeared on her skirts. Lio might have believed her semblance of playfulness if not for the keenness of her aura.

  And the pointedness of her remark. “You have never mentioned any specific females at home in Orthros who are not your elders.”

  “Have I not?”

  Cassia tossed the stick off into the night, and her hound bounded away again. The air around them suddenly seemed very quiet and fragrant of her.

  “Tell me about your lady friends,” she invited.

  He could give her an idea how different it was fo
r females like her in Orthros, without delving into subjects better left back home. “Eudokia is an initiate mathematician and smarter than any of us. She is already an accomplished scholar and calligrapher. Menodora, an initiate musician, not only sings and plays beautifully, but also crafts her own instruments. Xandra is an initiate sericulturalist who provides Orthros with one of our most prized goods—silk.”

  Now Cassia subjected him to a thorough scrutiny. Nothing gave him the impression her intent was suggestive, as his had been a moment ago when he had caressed her hair with his gaze. But the way she looked at him now had much the same effect him.

  He looked back into her gardener’s green-brown eyes and resisted the urge to show his true appreciation with a glance that would touch her up and down, from her freckled nose to her muddy hem.

  He was quite hopeless. Was it because she was so forbidden? He had not thought himself to be that sort of fool, to run headfirst into what he knew would remain unrequited.

  “You have a tell,” she informed him.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “A tell. A gesture a gambler makes whenever bluffing. Ladies may not frequent Hedon’s halls, but we witness plenty of games of chance at court.” She took a step away from the stone slab and held up her hands. Then she tucked them behind her back and stood up very straight. “You do this every time you lack confidence. Especially when you are about to say words of which you are unsure.”

  Now it was Lio who flushed. He realized he gripped his hands behind him even now, and he no longer lounged against the tree.

  “You are very good,” Cassia assured him. “The candidness of your expressions makes others feel they can trust you, while your body language gives nothing away. Except when you put your hands behind your back and draw yourself up.”

  Lio cleared his throat and slid his hands into his pockets again. “I shall endeavor to remember that at the negotiation table.”

  “I need not play another guessing game to discover which lady most regrets your absence. Your tell appeared when you said Xandra’s name.”

  Thorns. Cassia had just given him a lesson in diplomacy, indeed. “She most certainly does not regret my absence.”

  “Ah. So the distance is not unwelcome to her. The question is, then, do you regret your absence from her?”

  Lio wished Knight would choose that moment to return with the stick, but alas, it was a vain hope that a liegehound would come to his rescue. Cassia had effectively maneuvered the conversation from a discussion of his people to an interview about everything he had no desire whatsoever to talk about. He should have been more prepared. Hadn’t he done the same thing to her often enough? “If I answer that question, you must tell me if I owe anyone an apology for monopolizing your evenings.”

  “That is not our agreement,” she said primly. “We do not make exchanges. We ask and answer openly.”

  She had him. He could not expect her to uphold their Oath if he did not. And he had worked so hard to make her feel it was worthwhile and safe to speak with him like this. Was it really worth jeopardizing all the progress he had made with her because he was too embarrassed to discuss his romantic mistakes?

  Lio bowed. “On my honor, you are right. Although I do hope you will answer my question openly, once I have answered yours.”

  His interrogator leaned against the ruin again, and the toes of her slippers peeked out from under her gown. “Do you miss her?”

  Lio lifted his gaze from Cassia’s small feet. Why did his mind choose this moment to wonder whether she had freckles on her toes as well? “I too find the distance quite welcome, I assure you.”

  “Well, I can certainly understand that. I frequently long for greater distances between myself and my suitors. But I confess, I find it hard to imagine what could possibly go wrong between a lady and you.”

  She regarded him likelier to succeed with a female than one of her suitors. What a compliment. “We discovered we were unsuited.”

  “Then it sounds as if it is for the best that you parted.”

  Lio breathed in the scent of Cassia’s determination. She would have her answers out of him, one way or another. He had seldom been so thoroughly subjected to his own negotiation techniques, and never by a young mortal woman.

  He could only conclude she was as voraciously curious about him as he was about her. Was that really cause for discomfort?

  Lio strolled over to the stone pillar, bringing himself nearer to Cassia in body and Union. Her curiosity tickled his senses as he casually propped an elbow on the stone support. “It never once occurred to me it was for the best. But I think you are right.”

  “You must have cared for her very much.”

  Lio cast a glance out into the night, to the north. He grimaced. “I decided to avow her when I was about your age.”

  “Oh. Considering your explanations of how Hesperines mature, at age one-and-twenty, you must have been…”

  “A child, yes.”

  “Well, it’s not as if childhood betrothals are unheard of.” She paused. “But sixty-seven years is a very long time to be betrothed to someone.”

  Lio snorted. “Yes. It is, isn’t it? You would think I would realize, if we could endure such a long engagement, we might not be so eager for what was to come after.”

  A soft, hiccuping sound filled the silence. Cassia was laughing.

  Before Lio knew it, he was laughing with her. He laughed over that single, disastrous night with Xandra when everything he had planned for their entire lives fell apart in a matter of hours. Over his years of youthful efforts to impress her. Most of all over his own blindness.

  He should have realized long before. What he felt for her was not what he would feel for his Grace. That had not been hunger powerful enough to sustain them for eternity. It had not been the Craving.

  He had made a mistake. But not the one he thought he had made. He should not have stubbornly persisted in such a misguided commitment, which had only burdened both of them.

  But the end of that commitment was not the mistake.

  He could not fight their natures or the nature of the Gift. No matter how thoroughly he had managed to convince himself he and Xandra were meant for each other, they were not. That was a fact.

  Not a failure.

  He wasn’t what she needed. She…was not what he needed.

  Lio rubbed his eyes and listened to Cassia catch her breath. Had he really regretted arriving in Tenebra unavowed? If he were Graced, he would not be standing here laughing with Cassia.

  He stared at her. Her laughter quieted as if it had never been, and she pressed her lips tightly together. But not tight enough to hide her smile.

  “I have never heard such a charming sound,” he told her.

  “What sound?”

  “Your laughter.”

  “I see why they sent you as an ambassador. You’ve a gift for flattery.”

  “You wound me. I thought you knew by now I only speak with the utmost sincerity. You have a lovely laugh.”

  “It’s not as if you haven’t heard it before.”

  “No, I don’t think I have.”

  Cassia waved a hand. “Do not waste your time regretting Xandra, Sir Diplomat. You are young, successful, and handsome. I am certain you will have plenty of more suitable opportunities.”

  Lio rubbed his mouth to wipe the grin off his face. Cassia had just evaluated him in the same tone of voice as she might describe the condition of a horse’s teeth. But she had called him handsome.

  He gave her his best bow. “I thank you for your vote of confidence, my lady. I take your opinion to heart.”

  Knight would choose that moment to impose himself on them again. But not between them. After the hound had received his lady’s adoration, he lay down on her other side to gnaw on the stick.

  “You never know,” said Cassia. “Perhaps Eudokia or Menodora is merely waiting to take her chance when you return.”

  Smiling, Lio shook his head. “Kia and Nodora are my
Trial sisters.”

  “Well, I’m sure there are plenty of other ladies in Orthros, and the dashing athletes Mak and Lyros will not lay claim to all of them before you return.”

  Lio burst out laughing again. “That is…not a concern.”

  “Ah, you’re in luck. They’re already Graced?”

  “Thoroughly. At least one good thing happened after our Trial. We are considered rather young to make such a commitment, by Hesperine standards. But they did not let that deter them. They have known what they wanted since we were old enough to understand such things. We all hope to be like the two of them. They make it look effortless.”

  “You seem very happy for them.”

  “I am, with all my heart.” Lio cleared his throat. “I could not imagine finer partners for my two dearest friends than each other.”

  He counted one, two, three beats of her heart before she sailed onward. “Forgive me. I should know better than to make uninformed assumptions.”

  “We do not forbid the same things in Orthros as are forbidden in Tenebra,” he reminded her.

  “You do not forbid what people will do anyway. In other words, you are not hypocrites.”

  “There was a time when we were not the only cult that blesses passion.” Lio frowned. “I am familiar with the complex history that led to conflicting views. Our Goddess teaches us to practice compassion toward those who believe differently from us and to have patience with their search for truth. I do try to understand how the followers of Anthros have arrived at their ideas, although they violate my convictions.”

  “Tenebrans’ beliefs are very simple to understand,” Cassia said. “If you are a man, you may sheath your sword anywhere you please—as long as you are the one wielding the weapon, of course. But if you surrender to a warrior, it is off to the temples of Hedon with you. Man or woman, doesn’t matter. If you lie down for the sword, you are unworthy of Anthros, and you’d best make yourself useful in service to Hedon, the god of pleasure and chance—oh, excuse me. The god of fertility and prosperity, I think the Order of Anthros calls him now.”