by Vela Roth
That woman wanted Cassia to believe two of the men who had led Solia to her death had actually had good intentions.
Cassia’s grief leapt up within her to rend the offering of compassionate words to shreds. But all that lashed out within her halted at one thing Lady Valentia had said.
Lord Evandrus felt honor-bound to take action to stop what he regarded as abuse of royal power.
Was not Cassia that kind of traitor as well?
Denial made her shake inside. She was nothing like Solia’s murderers. She would die before she would allow her plans to bring someone so good to harm.
Perhaps Lord Evandrus had escorted Solia to Castra Roborra that night believing the same thing. Perhaps he had died before he allowed his plans to bring her to harm.
The landscape of Cassia’s inner world shifted, and suddenly the two lords were standing at her sister’s side with the king’s victims, no longer among the ranks of enemies who were no better than Lucis himself.
That would mean she and the two lords were exactly the same kind of traitor…only she still drew breath.
“I do not doubt your words,” Cassia said in realization. “I take them to heart. It is a revelation to me to know Solia had two protectors in that fortress. To know she had some recourse…some hope…that she was not without allies when she faced—” Cassia’s breath caught in her throat. “I never imagined the possibility.”
“She was not alone,” Lady Valentia said.
“No. I see that now.”
And neither was Cassia.
“The results of this Greeting are in our hands.” Lady Valentia held out hers in the traditional gesture of offering. “I hope we shall make better of it than our forbears.”
“With the gods as our witnesses,” Cassia replied, “we shall.”
Lady Valentia’s expression softened. “You have a much brighter future ahead of you already. Here he comes now.”
Flavian approached, rosy-faced and cheerful from the wine, with drinks and plates for all three of them. He escorted Cassia and Lady Valentia away from the dance and laid claim to a portion of the green’s western slope, where he spread out his festival cloak to serve as their table.
Cassia stared at the spot a few paces away where the Hesperine embassy had first appeared upon their arrival at Solorum. It was hard to tear her gaze away from where she had first seen Lio. It was even harder not to stare at Solorum Fortress, where they had last made love.
She knew who represented her bright future. He was the beacon who awaited her far ahead in the distance, the light she would finally reach when…if…she made it through her perilous course.
The afternoon was going to be a gauntlet. She could see them swarming now—Flavian’s many friends, supporters and assorted beggars for his favor. She must get through the congratulations and still more dances with the man who regarded her as his.
Bonfire Dance
In the waning dusk, Cassia watched apprentice mages of Anthros and Kyria pile sacred branches in the center of the green. Flavian and his friends talked and laughed around her, excited for the next spectacle. She tried to ignore her aching feet and Flavian’s arm tucked around hers.
It was not the royal mage who came forward with a temple brand. Chrysanthos strode to the foot of the Mage King’s throne with empty hands. Silence descended, and the crowd watched him with fervent expectation.
The words of his prayer rolled across the greensward and drummed in the night. He squared his broad shoulders and held out his hands.
The hair on Cassia’s arms stood on end, and painful goosebumps broke out all over her skin.
This time she saw the blast of fire. Flame leapt from the mage’s palms.
The Dexion’s spell set upon the pile of wood to commence its feeding. Cassia’s whole body started while the crowd roared their amazement and approval.
Lost in the noise, were there any protests from those who had nearly been the victims of Dalos’s war magic? If any of the cries were outrage, they went unheeded. In a moment the flames roared so high, they were taller than the throne.
Cassia watched the power that had destroyed Hespera’s Sanctuary rise into a bonfire and her countrymen begin a circle dance around the pyre. The celebrants had found their second wind, intoxicated by magic, flirtation and drink.
Cassia spoke in Flavian’s ear. “My lord, it is awfully hot and noisy here by the bonfire.”
He looked down at her in surprise. “My dear, would you fancy a stroll under the trees to cool ourselves before we rejoin the dancers?”
“I admit some quiet and privacy would be most welcome to me.”
Tenebra’s expert on romance did not disappoint her. Within moments, he arranged to be seen leaving the green with Sir Benedict while Cassia departed from the opposite end with Genie and Lady Valentia. With laughter and knowing gazes, their escorts deposited them under the cover of the woods. In no time, Cassia stood in a clearing with Flavian. Alone.
He lounged against a fallen tree as if he were a young god who had descended into the mortal world to take a stroll and lead maidens astray. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Thank you for your willingness to forgo a bonfire dance.” Cassia checked the security of her gloves.
He straightened and took a step toward her. “Shall we make our own music?”
“I’m afraid that is not why I wanted to speak with you alone.”
He gave her a playful grin. “I know how it is. You have heard the tales of how dreadful my company is when Benedict is not around to enliven the conversation. Allow me to repair my reputation in your eyes.”
“My lord, we are not officially betrothed yet.”
“My matter-of-fact Lady Cassia. What a sweet trove of modesty you’re hiding under your pragmatism.” He took another step, this time around her. Suddenly he was very close in front of her, and the tree not so far behind her back. “My Lady of Ice. Let me warm you a little.”
As his mouth descended toward hers, she put her fingers on his lips. “Flavian, the person you would rather have danced with today is within your reach. Why don’t you make the most of it? I am the last person who would protest, and I think it would mean a great deal to Sabina.”
He froze there with her hand upon his mouth. A less graceful man might have recoiled. But he only took one step back. She moved out of his reach, and he swiveled to face her. He didn’t seem to realize she had him cornered between her and the tree now.
“What did she tell you?” he blurted.
“She asked me the same question about you, when I told her I knew.”
He regained his composure with admirable speed. “If she told you nothing, my lady, then it seems you are at an impasse, for you will get the same from me.”
“As I said, I already knew. I am one of the few people who is intimate with both your families. Who else in the kingdom would bear witness to the signs of what has passed between you? You and I have this in common—our closeness to the king allows us to bridge the feud. How else would you, a son of Segetia, ever have come into the company of a daughter of Hadria?”
“You cannot see signs that are not there.”
“You dismissed your last concubine three years ago,” she reminded him.
He sank down to sit on the fallen tree. “Don’t tell me Cornelia attends temple and stands in the gallery.”
“She did for a little while, when she made a short visit to court earlier in the summer with Lord Nonus, the benefactor into whose arms you commended her.”
“Cornelia knows nothing about my personal affairs since we parted,” he protested.
“But after my conversations with her about you, I had to wonder: why did you dismiss a woman like her and take no other concubine since? Who captured your interest?”
He fidgeted as if someone had put stinglily in his clothes. “There are times when a man finds he is not in a position to fulfill his responsibilities to his concubine. I have been traveling a great deal.”
“Yes, you
have. You have entertained me with wonderful stories about all the places you have traveled in the last few years. Do you know who else must often travel at the king’s behest? Lady Hadrian. She is stuck with the court year in and year out while her daughter must be at home. She misses Sabina sorely and loves to read her letters aloud to her friends here whenever we attend weaving parties.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. Amiable Flavian now looked like he wanted to draw his sword and deal the tree a few hacks.
“Sabina must spend most of her time in Hadria,” Cassia went on, “but she does get to visit other families occasionally. I had almost forgotten that three years ago, she spent a summer in Saxara to renegotiate their tithe to her father. I hear Saxara is lovely in the summer.” Cassia tapped her chin. “Who was it who told me that? Oh yes. It was you, wasn’t it?”
Flavian rubbed a hand across his mouth, and she was fairly certain the words he muttered into his palm were curses from the filthiest end of the list.
Cassia swept her hand in the direction of the palace. “Devotion to the crown opens paths to our generation that our parents feared to tread—or would not tread without causing a considerable body count. The king’s favor secures your welcome everywhere in Tenebra, and your character sees to it you never wear out that welcome. There are families in Tenebra that hate Segetia but like you. Some of them are families who love Hadria. Then there are the new lords the king has made, who welcome whomever he says they should and have not existed long enough to have ancient quarrels. All this has worked together to produce an astonishing result: Sabina of Hadria and Flavian of Segetia have happened to be visiting mutual friends upon seven occasions in the last three years. It was a different friend every time, and sometimes it was only for a few days…other times, for an entire season.”
“As you say, my lady, Hadria and Segetia nurse their enmity as bitterly as ever. It seems all you know for certain is that Lady Sabina has occasionally tolerated being under the same roof as the son of her father’s rival.”
“Oh, I should say she did far more than tolerate you.” Cassia smirked. “What convinced me of that is how she struggles to tolerate me.”
“On the contrary, the two of you have been inseparable since she came to court.”
“She is making a noble effort to like me. For a well-born lady to disdain me is not remarkable, of course. But Sabina is the one person who has every reason to like me and no reason not to. She was Solia’s friend and is fair-minded like her parents, so I thought she would love me for my sister’s sake, rather than censure me for my mother’s. And, I reasoned, she is the only person with no cause to be jealous of my good fortune in your courtship. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“Plenty of other ladies envy my attention to you, and you are not assuming I have behaved thus with them.”
“None of those ladies spent the summer at Saxara with you around the same time you dismissed your concubine. Sabina is in no way responsible for my discovery of your secret. It was only after she realized how much I already understood that she told me everything.”
Flavian was silent. Indeed, he could have no retort for that.
He was really hearing Cassia…listening to her. She had finally gotten his attention and cut through his elaborate act of gallantry. This might be the first, but it would not be the last time they had a real conversation.
“In our position, it was one solace I could give her,” Cassia said. “The chance to speak honestly about you as she cannot with any other living soul. Which is more than can be said for you. You’ve not said two words to her since she arrived at Solorum.”
“Solorum is different from Saxara!”
“Are you going to educate me on how court life demands greater discretion, after you just sneaked off with me in front of the king himself?”
“You and I just danced the Greeting.”
“And what a spectacle you made of it. Don’t pretend you don’t know you’ve hurt Sabina.”
Eloquent Flavian, never before without a quip or a compliment, said nothing for a long moment. At last an expression of resolve came over his face. “What Sabina and I had was over before I started courting you—and I don’t mean to say we had anything. We knew when we began what it would and would not be. We never entertained any notion of marriage.” He paused. “Gods above. That does make me sound like a scoundrel. I did not seduce her.”
“Oh, no. I gather it was quite the opposite.”
Flavian flushed red from his forehead to his neck.
“What a sweet trove of modesty you’re hiding under your boldness,” Cassia exclaimed. “I had no idea my pragmatism could embarrass a man of the world such as yourself. But the lovely Sabina’s thorough conquest of you is certainly worthy of your blushes. She is as proud and relentless as any Hadrian and just as unwilling to accept there is anything that is not hers for the taking.”
“There you have it. We were forbidden to one another. The most irresistible temptation known to mortal kind. There is nothing more to tell.”
“Flavian, I know your heart was not in what we did today. You have put on a merry display, for merriment is your shield of choice. You have acted out of loyalty to the king and duty toward your family. I invited you out here tonight to relieve you of any sense of duty you may feel toward me. Make all you can of every opportunity you and Sabina have to be together. I will not stand in your way. I know there will be certain responsibilities you and I cannot escape, but they stop outside the bedroom door. Heirs can be adopted or produced by relatives. You and Sabina have my blessing now and when we are officially betrothed—and after we are married.”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “That’s the kind of marriage you envision?”
“It is the best I can offer the three of us.”
“I have told you, Sabina and I exchanged no promises. We have always known we must one day do our duty to Hadria and Segetia. We had no illusions that what passed between us would last.”
Cassia should not have been surprised, but she was disappointed. How could he sit here and dismiss Sabina as if she had been nothing but one more amorous adventure?
“Your exploits include concubines, widows, handmaidens of Hedon and talented beauties among the traveling players. But you never take advantage of your dependents or lead other men’s wives astray. Above all, you limit your adventures among marriageable maidens to flirtation and dancing. Then there is Sabina. You certainly did not limit yourselves to words and dances. Has it occurred to you she means something different to you than any other woman you have known? Something more?”
Cassia waited, but he mustered no answer for her. She pressed on.
“Sometimes the indulgence of forbidden desire comes to nothing. But other times…” The words welled out of Cassia with the strength of conviction, and she said for Sabina’s sake what she wished with all her heart someone would say on her own behalf. “There are extraordinary occasions when, in our defiance of all we have been told is right, we find something even more precious…something sacred. Sometimes what we have been told we must not want is precisely what we need. Sometimes rebellion leads us home.”
Flavian stared at her as if he had never seen her before.
She left him speechless and alone with only one companion. He and the truth needed some time together so they could become acquainted.
Sabina's Favor
The palace was silently astir with ladies staying awake late to gossip and lords making furtive visits to their conquests. Lady Sabina’s handmaiden did not raise a brow at Cassia for paying a visit in the middle of the night after the Autumn Greeting. She showed Cassia into Sabina’s hearth room within the Hadrian residence.
Sabina sprang out of her chair by the fire. A blanket fluttered off her shoulders and fell at her feet. She stood tall, her shoulders squared, her curls agleam in the light of the flames. “Gods damn him.”
“I’m glad you did yourself the kindness of feigning illness,” Cassia began.
Sabina made an angry gesture with one hand and began to pace. “It is well indeed I did not stay for the Greeting, for I might have committed sacrilege by taking up a branch from the sacred bonfire and putting Anthros himself to the pyre.”
Once more Cassia chose her words with care. She was not yet certain whether all the fury she beheld was for Flavian alone, or whether she too was in danger of being caught in the blaze of Sabina’s ire. “I wish I had more to offer you, but I have only one thing to give. My word. If there were any other way I could do this, I would.”
“I know,” said Sabina to the window.
“Thank you for taking me at my word.”
“Your word is worth more than that seasonal decoration he calls his honor.” Sabina made a noise of disgust. “The only person in this whole affair who had any power to influence the outcome was Flavian. I knew he would have to marry. I hoped he would not sit by and let his father and the king hand him a bride. I expected him to take his leave of me like a man.”
Now, of all times, the kindest thing Cassia could do for Sabina was listen. There was no one else to hear her grievances.
Sabina continued to rage at the window. “If he had bothered to speak to me, I’m sure he would have made some attempt to convince me that when the king invited him to marry you, it was not in his power to refuse. He could have at least offered the defense that he had tried to weasel himself out of it. How expert he is at weaseling, and always with a smile.”
Instead, Flavian had made it appear to the entire court that he was having the time of his life accepting the yoke of marriage the king had ordered for him.
Flavian’s greatest expertise was not trying.
Sabina seethed. “I have no idea what is rattling around in the place he claims his heart resides.”
“And yet I have made an appeal to it on your behalf, such as it is. He and I spent some time alone after the dance, and I want you to know why.”
Sabina spun around. Tears quivered in her eyes. She was shaking with anger. “Do not coddle me like a maiden. His reason descended into his breeches long ago. You don’t have to explain to me why Lord Flavian would want to take his prospective bride off alone…and you don’t have to justify why you would go with him.”