by Vela Roth
Cassia looked through the grime, gore and suffering. She saw a man with a strong jaw and well-proportioned face, a long-boned frame and broad shoulders strong from a lifetime of training. A wilted luck charm of spring blossoms peeked out from one cuff of his tunic. They could tell his youngest sister he still wore the wrist chain she had made for him.
Deutera looked at Perita, and the light in her eyes made it clear she smiled beneath her veil. “Don’t fear. Between the four of us and Kyria’s magic, we’ll have him clean and treated before we leave today.”
A sigh of relief, almost a sob, burst out of Perita. She reached out a hand to Callen and caressed his forehead, pushing back a tangle of sandy brown hair. “Do you hear that, love? We’ll set you to rights.”
His eyes opened. “Perita.”
“See there?” The smile around Deutera’s eyes deepened. “He knows you. That’s a good sign.”
“Perita,” Callen said again, the way one might utter the name of a goddess.
“I’m right here, love. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Kindness
Without knowing the meaning of the closing words of dusk rites, Cassia might decide the final prayer meant anything. She uttered it thinking of the cost of war to those who tried to fight with honor. She doubted Anthros actually gave much thought to such things, for he loved the results of war too much. He must love King Lucis above all.
Cassia descended from the gallery without waiting to file out behind the crowd. As she had that morning, she caught up to Lady Hadrian with as much propriety as she could manage while striding so fast onto the greensward with a liegehound trotting alongside her.
Lady Hadrian turned so neither of them must squint into the sunset. “Lady Cassia. Has another question about your weaving project come to mind?”
“Not at all. Your help earlier today made everything clear. Thank you again.”
“You know it was a pleasure for me.”
“I wish I were here to speak of pleasures now, but I fear I must beg your attention to a grave matter. You recall the guard everyone spoke of this afternoon?”
“I can hardly forget.” Lady Hadrian shook her head. “As I said to the other young ladies, I would sooner not speak of it. My husband feels the situation deeply, as do I.”
“I believe I can help.”
Lady Hadrian’s gaze sharpened. Cassia recognized the keen expression of a woman who was more accustomed to taking action than resigning herself to a situation she could not influence. “Please, go on.”
“Did you know Callen is betrothed to my handmaiden, Perita? He was only waiting for his next recognition from Lord Hadrian before he sought your husband’s approval of the marriage.”
“I had no idea. What a tragedy this is for her. Rest assured, if there is anything my lord and I can do for her, we will. We will not abandon any of our dependents’ loved ones.”
“Nor will I. Perita and two healers from the Temple of Kyria are with Callen now.”
Lady Hadrian sucked in a breath. “Lady Cassia, allow me to thank you on my lord’s behalf. You have done what we could not. Fealty dies at the door of the western wing, although the men to whom we owe it still breathe. Once the feud delivers a man into the prison warden’s household, neither side has any more power to aid him.”
Cassia clasped her hands, suddenly tense, but not in the fearful way to which she was accustomed. What a strange hour this was, when all the politics that made Lord and Lady Hadrian powerful stood in their way.
And the powerless bastard and her silenced handmaiden delivered the solution.
“I will not allow Perita to come to grief over this,” Cassia declared, “nor will I stand by and see death be Callen’s reward for honorable combat. I know Lord Tyran has proved resistant to your efforts on behalf of justice. Perhaps he would be more open-minded toward an intervention from me.”
Cassia held her breath and waited. Perita ostensibly served Cassia. Perita really served the king. If Lady Hadrian felt the need to adhere to the fact of the matter, rather than the appearance of it, Cassia’s efforts would perforce become more complicated.
But the lady let out a sigh of relief. “Your willingness to intervene does you credit.”
“I wish to return your kindness to me, and your lord’s.”
It was a rare moment when Cassia spoke words to produce a desired effect and realized only afterward they were in fact true. She had learned not to look for kindness. So she had not seen it in repeated invitations to leave her isolated rooms. In a cup of that delicious spiced wine she would never ask for, but which never ran dry as long as she visited. In dances without consequences. There had been kindness there all along.
She should have seen it. Her seven-year-old self had on that night long ago, when Lord Hadrian also could do nothing.
Here today, Cassia could.
Life Price
Nearby on the greensward, Lord Hadrian stood with a few other lords in low-voiced discussion that was surely a preamble to tonight’s negotiations. His lady took him aside, and Cassia made her case again.
“Good,” Lord Hadrian said. “I will see Tyran give you his answer now.”
With that, he sent his retainer to find Lord Tyran, who even now approached the Summit pavilion. Men as important as Free Lord Hadrian did not trot across greenswards, but had others do it for them. Men like Free Lord Tyran who were trying to be important frowned and delayed a moment to soothe their dignity, then came to see what their liege lord’s rival wanted of them.
As soon as Lord Tyran drew near, Knight tensed, and Cassia’s own tension mounted. The man moved like a wolf eager to spring. Cassia felt sorry for both his concubine and his betrothed. The arrogance in his eyes made his bow to Lord and Lady Hadrian into mockery. He was half Lord Hadrian’s age and half as broad, although the young lord flaunted his slight advantage of height. His black hair was well-groomed, his chin cleanly shaven. He attired himself in the short tunic and tight breeches fashionable among Lord Flavian’s hangers-on, unlike the long tunics and looser braccae Lord Hadrian’s generation still wore. But Lord Tyran had something else in common with Lord Titus’s son: a real sword arm hiding under his velvet sleeve.
Lord Tyran was the man who had not only allowed, but enabled Verruc to commit his crimes. Cassia was glad Perita had decided to remain at Callen’s side. That she had entrusted this confrontation to Cassia.
Perita shouldn’t have to endure it. Cassia owed it to her to see this through for her.
Lord Hadrian said not a word, but held out a hand toward Cassia.
Lord Tyran gave her a belated, halfhearted bow. “My lady. That’s a fine dog you have there. Shame the royal kennels don’t breed them except upon the king’s orders. I’d fancy a pack of hounds like yours at my heels. His Majesty’s bitches make the best in the kingdom.”
Cassia laid a hand on Knight’s shoulder. “It is a shame Knight and I were not present when a guard under your command ambushed an innocent person in the middle of the night. If we had been, your soldier would not have received the honor of a warrior’s death. Verruc would have met the end he deserved. On the ground with my dog’s teeth at his neck.”
Lord Tyran was actually too startled to speak. Cassia was off to a good start.
She didn’t give him a chance to gather his thoughts. “Alas, it fell to a man to put a stop to Verruc. A good man who is now in prison awaiting execution.”
Lord Tyran set his jaw. “One of Hadrian’s men murdered three of mine in cold blood under cover of darkness. Hadrian, shall we educate Lady Cassia on the law?”
Lord Hadrian’s silence made an effective refusal.
Lord Tyran spoke in a painfully patient tone. “If the man was of exceptional value to his lord, which Verruc was, that gives me the right to reject the fine and demand instead a life for a life.”
“I am aware of the law and that you accepted only two life prices from Lord Hadrian. I am making you my own offer. I have ample weight in gold and
jewels right here.” With a sense of satisfaction, Cassia untied the heavy purse from her belt. Her suitors’ gifts would not buy her hand in marriage, but the freedom of a common man who was worth more than all of those courtiers put together.
Lord Tyran’s eyes narrowed. “What value does a murderer’s life have to you?”
“Callen is an honorable warrior and my handmaiden’s betrothed.”
“Well, well. Callen’s gotten himself betrothed. That’s a recent event. I wonder what reason a girl might have to yoke herself to him in such haste.”
“Callen’s imminent execution is a powerful motivation for making such a commitment, I should think. I want him to survive to see his wedding.”
“What a vehement defense. Is your companion so desperately in need of a husband she must scrounge for one in the dungeons?”
“We would all do well to seek husbands there, when the finest men in the kingdom are consigned to prison cells for protecting us from derelicts.”
Lord Tyran smirked and took a step nearer. “That is the great mystery of the matter. No one knows what drove Callen to butcher my men. It was a baser urge than protectiveness, I dare say. You wouldn’t be able to enlighten us, would you?”
“I know Callen gave his word he had just cause for his actions. I also know your guards have wagging tongues. Which do you think I regard as more reliable?”
“If wagging tongues concern you, you ought to ask your handmaiden if she spends her nights where a girl in her position ought to.”
Lord Tyran’s retainers snickered, while Lord Hadrian’s expression darkened, and Lady Hadrian tightened her hand on her husband’s arm.
“How dare you?” Cassia advanced on Lord Tyran. “You question the honor of my companion? You question the honor of my household?”
He gave a laugh. “If you are going to suggest someone else’s dependents are guilty of improper conduct, you should first ensure your own are blameless.”
“You discredit no one but yourself with your insinuations. My handmaiden is a woman of great character. She is worthy of only the highest praise, and I am fortunate to have her as a companion.”
“How well do you know your dependents, Lady Cassia?”
“Lord Tyran, are you questioning my diligence? My judgment? My honor?”
Lord Tyran put on a confident, handsome smile that did not reach his eyes. “I assure you, my lady, those remarks are not directed at you.”
Cassia took yet another step nearer. “Any remarks about my handmaiden are remarks about me. Her troubles are my troubles. Her enemies are my enemies.”
His eyes narrowed. He gave a shallow, but significant bow. “Well. I will see to it they do not forget that…should I meet any who qualify.”
“I think we understand one another, Lord Tyran.” Cassia held up her purse. “Therefore, my offer stands. Will you accept Verruc’s life price from me?”
Lord Tyran cast a glance at the prize in Cassia’s hands, then at Lord Hadrian. “Too old to go to war and dancing with young women instead? You’d be better off quitting the field and the floor.”
“The lady invited me to dance, and I said yes. One does not refuse His Majesty’s daughter.”
Lord Tyran turned a more considering eye upon Cassia. “I’ve never known the king not to charge into battle himself.”
“He leads the charge that shapes the kingdom,” she replied. “Meanwhile I am left to my dancing.”
“Hm.” Lord Tyran almost smiled. “Promise me a liegehound from the royal kennels with that purse, and we have a bargain.”
“A dog of Knight’s breeding costs more than Verruc’s life price, and I am already paying you more than your due, for I have not deducted the fine for assault.”
Lord Tyran’s smile was gone. “You have no proof Verruc attacked anyone.”
“You will refuse the king’s daughter a dance?”
“The king has not given me permission to dance with you.”
“Our little turn about the floor is beneath his notice,” she reminded Lord Tyran. But her sway on him was weakening. Her threats were enough to shock him out of his complacency and make him realize he could not disregard her. But she did not truly frighten him.
Yet. That day would come. That was her silent promise to Perita and every other woman who had suffered under this man’s ill-deserved leadership.
In the meantime, Lord Tyran had made it all too obvious he was vulnerable to bribes. Cassia coaxed, “Are you sure you do not wish to promise me a dance? It would be a shame to miss such an opportunity. We might speak of so many things while we danced…things even more valuable than liegehounds.”
Now he smiled. “A lady so adamant as yourself is sure to be a leader among the court’s dancers. I can imagine how fruitful any conversation with you must be.”
He recognized her words for what they were: the offer of a favor. She had convinced him she was influential enough to deliver.
Cassia wanted to send him running with his tail between his legs. But she had already known such victories for justice were few and far between. She could curb her disappointment, if not her anger, and do whatever she must to free Callen this very day.
One never knew what might befall Lord Tyran later.
“What do you say?” Cassia prompted. “Shall we dance?”
He bowed deeply. “Lady Cassia. I will gladly accept your purse…and a future dance. Just the two of us.”
She gave him a courtesy in return and placed the bag of coin in his palm. But she did not release it.
“Ah yes, of course.” He lifted his free hand at his retainer. “Retrieve one of the heralds from the pavilion.”
Assured she would soon have Callen’s pardon in writing, Cassia let go of the purse. Presently one of the men who recorded the proceedings for Lord Titus joined them with a travel desk propped on his arm. It was the herald she had shown the seal of Kyria the night she’d spoken at the Summit.
“Do you have a scale?” Cassia demanded of the herald.
“That won’t be necessary.” Lord Tyran sifted through the contents of Cassia’s purse, letting gold rings and jeweled ear baubles slide through his fingers. He smiled at her over the treasure and lifted one delicate neck chain to his lips. “I will accept my lady Cassia’s word.”
A statement from Lord Tyran, the scratching of the herald’s quill, and Cassia held in her hand a slip of paper worth Callen’s life.
Lord Tyran gave her one more bow and a smile that threatened of their future dance. Bouncing the purse in his hand, he departed to rejoin the growing crowd in the pavilion.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Cassia turned to Lord and Lady Hadrian.
He smiled at her. “Well done.”
She had seldom heard him praise anyone. She gave him a deep courtesy. “I thank you, my lord.”
In front of everyone on the green, he gave her a bow, one much deeper than a bastard had any right to expect.
Her cheeks flushed. “The Hesperines haven’t arrived yet. We have just enough time before the negotiations begin.”
Now Lord Hadrian leapt into action, his element, and headed for the palace and the king’s prison. As Cassia fell into step with him and Lady Hadrian, she saw he still wore the rare smile. Was he looking forward to the expression on the warden’s face as much as Cassia was?
The best sight of all would be the look on Perita’s face as she helped her beloved Callen out of that cell.
Beauty
Tonight Lio took Cassia’s absence from the ruin as an invitation and wasted no time making his way to her rooms. He didn’t even pause at the king’s door. He didn’t want to think of the king or anyone else in this sunbound palace, only to go to her.
His awareness of her at the Summit had made the excruciating negotiations bearable. While the free lords’ fears had crippled yet another attempt to resolve tensions about the Mercy and Lio’s hunger had threatened to defeat him, Cassia’s scent had been heady with boldness and triumph. What had she been up t
o today?
When he entered her rooms, he found Cassia seated by the hearth in the light of a gentle fire. Knight lay dutifully in the open door of the bedroom, surveying his domain.
Cassia smiled at Lio. “Sir, manifesting through a closed door is even more remarkable than appearing suddenly before me in the woods. I dare say I am the only lady in the palace whose champion can accomplish such a feat.”
He grinned at her. He felt he had left all the hopeless events of the night on the other side of her door.
The Blood Union echoed with her sense of victory. “I have given Perita the night to herself.”
Lio stalked closer to Cassia. “Which means we have your chambers to ourselves?”
“Mm. Until dawn.”
As he drew near, Cassia stood and went to the chair across from her, pushing it a little closer to her own seat. She gave Lio a shy smile of welcome.
He took the chair she offered, and she did not return to her own. He leaned back, enjoying his awareness of her standing behind him. She slid her hands over his shoulders, giving him a gentle rub. The naturalness and intimacy of the moment took his breath away. As if they need not hide. As if they might share without fear of consequences.
Her hands slid upward, easing under his hair to caress his neck. He stretched his legs out before him and tilted his head farther back to rest against her.
She smiled down at him. “I would offer you a glass of wine, but I have something else you like even better.”
He reached up and brought her hand to his mouth. He placed a kiss on the soft skin on the inside of her wrist, where her pulse beat. “I come for an evening toast, and you offer me a nightlong feast.”
The thrill that went through her at his words teased his senses. She stepped around to face him. The chair on the other side of the fire seemed too far away. He drew her to him with her hand, to see if she would take the invitation. She did, and he gathered her in his lap.
Her body fit against his as if they were made to sit just this way. He wrapped his arms around her, savoring the feel of her bundled on his lap, her head tucked against his shoulder, her hip pressing in just the right place to tantalize him.