by Vela Roth
Lio held up a hand. “I will be mindful of all the fine points of human decorum, which I studied before we departed Orthros.”
His uncle nodded in surrender.
Lio bowed to them all with a flourish and turned toward the crowd of guests preparing to dance.
For the first time it occurred to him what a daunting task he had shouldered. He must dance with as many ladies as possible, so as not to draw undue attention when he finally achieved his true goal. That meant he would have to run a gauntlet of frightened women and angry stares from their men before he gained the reward of dancing with Cassia.
He entered the fray and made his way toward Lord and Lady Hadrian. First, he would approach two of the king’s allies who, willingly or not, supported the royal attitude of welcome toward the embassy. Lady Hadrian was above reproach, and it was easy for Lio to sense her strength of Will. She was unlikely to shy away, no matter how he unnerved her.
The energy humming in his veins made his senses keen and his tongue keener. He felt certain he would find just the right words to say and never miss a step in the dance. He could do this, and he would accomplish it with grace.
What a difference it made to be fully nourished. More than that, to be nourished by her. Cassia had given him this power, turned him into this extraordinary version of himself.
His efforts tonight would be worth it. He would have her hand in his, her beside him amid the music. He would learn how she moved when she danced. Just once, without having to hide, they would get to do something all lovers enjoyed. And he would occupy her company for at least a little while as a shield against whichever suitor she was trying so hard to avoid.
Cassia’s Choice
Cassia stared. She gave herself leave to continue doing so. Everyone was.
Lio bowed before Lady Hadrian and extended his hand.
Cassia had read his courteous invitation on his lips and Lord Hadrian’s permission on his. The warrior’s hand an inch away from his sword hilt said more. Lady Hadrian’s posture declared pride, her pallor aversion. With iron grace, she took Lio’s hand, her back stiff as a bastion as she let him lead her into the circle of dancers.
Two things made it hard for Cassia to continue observing objectively: the vicious grasp of envy and the knowledge that, because Lio danced at all, there might exist the possibility he would dance with her.
She felt like a stranger to herself. She had never considered herself a jealous person. Jealousy made one foolish and created more problems than it solved. She simply could not afford such petty feelings. Nor had she ever longed to dance before tonight.
With all the other women in the room, she watched the one she desired take the floor with someone else and burned with the wish that it was her.
None of the dancers laughed. None smiled. The minstrels played, the liegehounds bristled, and the court gawked. A Hesperine had dared to behave like a normal guest.
Not that anyone could mistake Lio for a normal guest. His fluid movements put the most acclaimed dancers in the court to shame. Cassia could not begin to guess where he had learned the steps of the ancient Tenebran circle dance, but he went round without missing a single clap, leap or hand clasp.
She watched the faces of those whom the dance brought into his grasp. More than once someone almost ruined the pattern of the steps because they hesitated to take his hand. But take it they did. For the king was watching.
So was Amachos, like a bird of prey at the king’s hand. A step behind him cowered his apprentice, the only person in the room whose face revealed the full extent of his dismay.
A large figure intruded between Cassia and the spectacle.
Knight let out a growl, pushing her backward. Her gaze was level with the emblem on the man’s tunic, a fisted gauntlet on a brown shield. The arms of Free Lord Ferus.
She did not meet his eyes. Let Knight do that on her behalf, for her would-be suitor could not imagine the hound’s expression to be encouragement. Cassia let her gaze and her hand rest on Knight’s shoulder. Lord Ferus could not mistake the meaning in that: she need only say a word, and her hound would protect her.
“Still hiding behind your pet, I see.” Was Lord Ferus in a state of constant scorn, or was that rumble from his barrel chest the natural sound of his voice?
“If you know your dogs, my lord, you will not mistake mine for a pet.”
With his back to the dais, Lord Ferus reached for Cassia’s wrist. Knight’s teeth snapped, and the man snatched his hand back just in time to keep it.
He sneered at her hound. “Just a dance, girl.”
“You have not asked my father.”
“Hiding behind your hound and your father.” Lord Ferus drew himself up, using his full height to loom over her. “He’ll regret making me freeze my bollocks riding east, only to find no bride to warm my bed when I arrived.”
How sorely mistaken Lord Ferus was. It was not to the king, but to Cassia whom he owed the damage to his manhood.
His breath fanned her face with the odors of gamey venison and too much wine. “Mark my words, chit. Next time we meet without the king peering over my shoulder, I’ll lock the door and settle things the traditional way. Marriage by claim is still law in this kingdom, and he’d best not forget it. The first sword in wins the sheath.”
She tightened her hand on Knight’s ruff. That little reminder to Lord Ferus should be enough. Dropping careful words in the right ears to keep the man at bay should be enough. But it wasn’t. Not anymore. She needed to speak out. To deal her own blow.
Cassia looked Lord Ferus in the eye. “You shouldn’t be so eager to expose your weapons, after their recent close call with the frigid weather.”
His lip curled. “One dog isn’t enough to protect you from the weapons I have.”
The threat should have sent a chill down her spine. The sight of him towering over her should have frightened her. For the first time, that was not the case.
She had banished him to eastern Tenebra using a cloak and a few well-placed words. She need only choose how she would like to teach him another lesson.
She outmatched him.
Cassia gave Lord Ferus a smile so cold he could never mistake it for flirtation. “It is a mistake to believe my dog is all that stands in your way, or that he is the greatest threat to you.”
“I’m equal to the challenge,” he declared. But that bold retort was not enough to hide the flash of surprise in his gaze.
Lord Ferus turned on his heel and stalked away.
The coward had decided to keep the king’s tolerance of his presence for one more night. The bully thought he left the field the victor. But he left with the knowledge Cassia could take him by surprise.
Would he take it to heart? Oh, certainly not. Lord Ferus was so unequal to the challenge of Cassia that he would keep waving his war hammer at a straw target while she toppled him from behind with a puff of air.
Her anger did not feel like a wild force threatening her control. Her fury was a part of her, focused and strong, honing her courage. When the rematch came, Lord Ferus would not walk away.
The circle of dancers moved again, and her enemy was gone from view. The first dance came to a halt and presented her with the vision of Lio bowing over Lady Hadrian’s hand. The lady was not precisely smiling, but her posture was more relaxed than before, her gray brows arched in surprise.
From the corner of her eye, Cassia noticed a figure approaching the throne. Her gaze darted to the dais, even though she wanted to look away. Lord Adrogan bowed before the velvet robes in the chair, then looked at her over his shoulder. The strapping blond lord gave her a suggestive smile as if bestowing a rare treat. His smoldering gaze promised he would completely understand if Cassia lost her head in gratitude and delight.
But when he retreated from the foot of the throne, he made his way toward a young lady on the opposite side of the room. He had been refused. What a shame. Cassia had been ready to teach another suitor it was not the king’s refusal that o
ught to worry him.
Cassia watched Lio approach Lord and Lady Galanthian next. This time no one interrupted her observation of the initiate ambassador’s performance.
Lio’s formal black robes showed off his height to the finest advantage. The high collar drew the eye to his graceful neck, and the cut of the silk suited his broad shoulders and lithe torso. His bell sleeves and floor-length hem whipped around him as he danced, tantalizing Cassia with all she could not see. All she had seen the night she had first offered him her blood, when he had worn naught but a tunic for his nightly run. The image lingered in her mind now. Long, lean legs. Big, bare feet.
He spent the third dance with Lady Caro, the admired widow who was in possession of her own estate. Their faces and conversation came in and out of view. They spoke of the flax her fields produced and the linen for which her looms were renowned. She betrayed her fascination when she began to ask Lio questions about silk.
Xandra must have taught Lio all about silk. Cassia suffered another alarming stab of envy.
At the end, she watched his mouth hover over the lady’s hand. His lips moved again. Lips Cassia had felt on her. The pleasure was all mine, my lady.
Cassia lost count of how many times Lio danced and how many other women’s lips she read speaking to him. She gathered the conversations to her for warmth, although they burned. Her legs ached from standing and her throat ached from all the words she could not say. She stayed out of the way in her faded gray-blue gown with its fraying belt. For the first time, she found no comfort in the knowledge she blended into the wall.
The man who eventually approached her to claim a dance was not one who had asked the king for permission. In fact, he was not a man who asked for anything. She looked up at Lord Hadrian in surprise.
“You’re wasting here by the wall.” He held out his hand.
One did not tell Lord Hadrian no. An offer she could not refuse had never been so welcome to her. He might well be the only safe partner in the room. Her only opportunity to join the dance and be brought into a pair of slender, pale hands for just an instant.
Cassia took Lord Hadrian’s weathered hand with a smile. It was only polite, after all. “I would fancy a chance to stretch my legs.”
He nodded. This was another fine thing about Lord Hadrian. He was a man of few words, although he never had trouble making his meaning clear.
She bade Knight stay at the edge of the crowd and joined Lord Hadrian a couple of paces away in the long line of dancers. Neither of them spoke as a new song commenced, and they began to weave in and out of the others, swapping places, then coming to face one another again. The silence in Lord Hadrian’s company was a boon. It gave her time to brace herself.
She caught glimpses of gleaming dark hair and robes at the far end of the line. She used the moments in which he drew nearer to prepare. To ensure she showed no reaction when, at last, the pattern caused them to meet.
Her vision filled with black and red, white and silver. Two hands took hers, smooth as silk, strong as magic. He steadied her and set her mind to spinning at the same time. She felt she was floating. She dared a look into his face.
She knew right then his concealing illusions were in full force, and she needn’t have struggled so to compose her own face. Lio was showing his fangs.
“Who was that creature, Cassia?”
“Who?” She wanted only to think of the divine creature in front of her.
“The man who threatened you. What is his name?”
“Free Lord Ferus? He is of no concern.”
“You faced him with courage and dignity. He is no match for you, to be sure. But he does not deserve a rematch with you.”
The dance tore her away. It brought her back to Lord Hadrian, and she felt bereft.
When the music delivered her into Lio’s hands once more, his eyes flashed with an emotion she had never beheld in him. Fury. “Shall I teach him a lesson on your behalf? Would you like me to give him a taste of Hesperine justice?”
“Lio, you can’t—”
“Oh, but I can. The Oath denies criminals protection from Hesperines. There is nothing to stop me, and as a mind mage, I have just the skills to assist Ferus in understanding the true meaning of his threats. I promise you, the coward would swallow his boasts until he choked if he endured even a moment of real empathy with those who have suffered the violation he just described.”
As Lord Nonus took Cassia’s hands, it was good he did not deign to talk to her, for she was speechless.
Lio could not seriously be considering using thelemancy on Lord Ferus. Could he?
She changed partners three more excruciating times before she had her chance to warn Lio. “You can’t brand Lord Ferus a criminal for his threats, even if he acted on them. Marriage by claim isn’t against the law in Tenebra.”
“This barbaric kingdom may not have convicted him, but it would be easy for me to discover what crimes he has already committed.”
“Lio, you are here on a mission of peace. You’ve devoted your life to it. One breach of the agreement—one unauthorized use of your magic on a lord of Tenebra—”
“I never agreed to uphold peace at the cost of justice.”
When Lord Hadrian reached for her again, she was not certain Lio would let her go. But he did, only to watch her retreat down the line of dancers with an expression she had never seen in anyone’s eyes for her sake.
She waited until the moment when she could take his hands again. She held them fast. “You must leave Lord Ferus to me.”
Lio gave her a glimpse of his sharp canines again. “I cannot stand by while he says such things to you. While he thinks of you in that way. I want to reach into his thoughts and purge—”
“Contain yourself, my champion. I excel at dealing with such boors.” Reluctantly, Cassia let go of Lio’s hands to turn in place.
As they spun, Lio shot a glance across the room at Lord Ferus. “I know you can protect yourself. But there shouldn’t be a need for you to.”
“As long as there is, I deserve my rematch with Lord Ferus.”
“You are right. You have shown him you do not fear him. You will teach him to fear you. When that moment comes, let your reinforcements stand at your side. When you bring your words against him, let my magic magnify your voice.”
“Thank you, Lio. I am truly fortunate in my ally. But I will bide my time, and when the opportunity is right, I will take care of this myself.”
He held her tightly. “Cassia, promise me you are truly safe from him.”
“It is I who have driven him on three wild goose chases already. He is finally beginning to see I am not the goose, and he is not the hound. I promise you I shall end the hunt once and for all. You must promise me you will not do anything to jeopardize your position as a diplomat.”
Lio pulled her as close as the dance allowed. “Very well. I give you my word I will not act—as long as you are not in immediate danger. But Lord Ferus had best pray to mighty Anthros the Summit never ends. For the next time he and I meet without the king peering over my shoulder, I’ll lock the door and settle things the Hesperine way.”
The dance brought Cassia to Lord Hadrian and the crowd to a standstill. The commander bowed, and she gave him a deep courtesy. Now that she was out of the reach of Lio’s veil, she could only hope Lord Hadrian blamed the dance for her flushed face and shortness of breath.
It was not the crush of guests that made her feel hot from head to toe. It was not wariness that made her unbearably tense, beside herself with energy she could not contain. It was her own boldness. And it was that other person in the crowd, upon whom she may not look, upon whom she could not stop looking.
She retreated to her place by the wall. How could she be so precisely aware of Lio at every moment, as if he were some magical beacon and her senses under a spell that made her home to him?
He wove his way slowly through the crowd, exchanging polite remarks. Neither Lady Dalia nor Lady Biata shied away as he neare
d, but he passed them by. Lady Nivalis watched him come within range, but he did not take the invitation in her gaze.
He was walking toward the throne.
He was so tall the king did not tower above him. Lio gave not the abject bow of a vassal, but an elegant gesture of respect befitting a foreign ambassador. Cassia didn’t look at the king, only at Lio. She could not read his lips from this position. What was he saying? It didn’t matter. She knew what the king would say. Lio would receive the same answer as the unworthy contenders before him.
Cassia had the power of refusal. She could see to it neither Lord Ferus nor Lord Adrogan touched her. But she still did not have the power to choose Lio as her partner tonight.
At least, not for a dance. But afterward?
As soon as midnight neared, bringing the king’s fraud to an end, she could make her own choice. Under the cover of darkness, with Hespera’s Eyes as her only witness, Cassia’s Will was her own.
She watched her choice bow to the king again. Lio took a step back from the dais, then turned to the dance floor again. She waited to see which woman would next receive the gift of his invitation and fail to appreciate it.
His gaze found and held hers. He strode through the crowd, and now they did retreat to make way. Everyone in the room was watching him…and Cassia. Her heart pounded, but not with panic.
She savored the perfection of Lio’s strategy. The king was refusing all her suitors tonight. The initiate ambassador was not a suitor. A Hesperine was entirely ineligible. According to that criterion, he was as appropriate a partner as Lord Hadrian, whose marriage vows already bound him. Except for the little detail that Lio was a blood-drinking heretic. But just as the king had allowed Cassia to attend the Summit at his guests’ insistence, so too would he allow her to dance with one of them.
Lio presented himself before her at the appropriate distance, but his gaze seemed to do away with the space between them. He was no less stunning by firelight than under the moons. He looked utterly out of place, a jewel among stones. “Do you, Lady Cassia, wish for a dance?”