Blood Solace (Blood Grace Book 2)

by Vela Roth

  “Just go talk to her,” Nodora urged him. “Even if you don’t talk to her about Cassia right away, only try to have a conversation with her. You’ll see. It will make you feel better about everything.”

  “Perhaps after the Circle tomorrow.”

  Nodora blinked at him. “Lio, consider how Xandra might feel if you make her wait to hear your proposal along with the elders.”

  Kia skewered him with a gaze. “Do you really want that to be how she finds out?”

  He grimaced. “Thorns, no. What am I thinking?”

  He was thinking he would need all the boldness and strength he could muster to face the Circle tomorrow, and he did not have any to spare for the encounter with Xandra he had been dreading.

  A great deal of that dread was his fear he would hurt her still more than he already had. But if he didn’t talk to her before the Circle tomorrow, that hurt would be much worse.

  There was no way around it. He would have to spend some of his final hours of peace on a confrontation with Xandra.

  Silk and Glass

  Lio should have considered his approach before now. There was little he could do to rescue the encounter, but there were strategies that might have allayed what was to come. Such as choosing neutral territory, perhaps a pleasant coffeehouse on the docks. Treating her to a drink. Asking her how her worms were doing.

  As it was, Lio had no time to prepare and no leeway to choose his ground for his first real conversation with Xandra since the night they had realized they were not Graced.

  Last Winter Solstice had been a humiliating experience that had left both of them wondering what they had done wrong. As if it were somehow their fault they weren’t made for each other. They had put themselves through so much unnecessary distress. Cassia had taught him just how unnecessary it had been.

  He had a responsibility to help Xandra see that, too. His only regret now was how long it had taken him to see they were not suited and to release her—and himself—from their misguided promise to each other. If he had been wiser, he could have spared them both so much hurt and embarrassment. The least he could do now was share some of what real Grace had taught him and help Xandra lay her feelings to rest.

  He went to find her where Kia and Nodora had confirmed she would be, in her mulberry orchard. As he stalled outside the door of the greenhouse, it occurred to him that if he must put her through the confrontation, it was probably more courteous to do so in a place she felt most confident and comfortable. That did nothing to make him feel better, though.

  He had spied on the King of Tenebra and battled an Aithourian war mage. He’d had a torrid and forbidden affair with Cassia, the most dangerous woman he knew. Why was it so hard to face the mundane risks of embarrassment and hurting Xandra’s feelings? Why would it seem easier to charge forward and do this if lives were at stake to give him motivation?

  But lives were at stake. Cassia’s life. His. All the lives his proposal to the Circle tomorrow might save…or cost.

  He had a more important task at this moment than just making amends with Xandra. This was not about their personal conflicts. He must petition her for her support, because this was about their people.

  Xandra might not rest easy under the weight of her status, but she took her responsibilities to heart, and she would expect Lio to do no less. Neither of them would hesitate to disregard their wounded feelings and do what was best for Orthros.

  As a firstblood in her own right, Xandra was the only one of Lio’s peers who could directly influence tomorrow’s outcome. Lio needed her vote.

  He let his veil drop slowly to give Xandra ample time to realize he was there, then physically knocked on the door of the greenhouse to give her plenty of warning.

  There came no response for several moments. He could make out nothing through the foggy glass and her personal veil. Perhaps she was mastering her own trepidation.

  He heard a door open and shut somewhere at the back of the greenhouse. At last the door in front of him swung open. He went inside, and humid warmth enveloped him.

  He walked between rows of mulberry trees laden with unhatched cocoons. Then the aisle, and his last moments to prepare his thoughts, came to an end, and he was in the center of the greenhouse.

  Xandra sat at one of her worktables in a simple undyed robe with her black hair braided against her head to keep it out of the way. She perched over a tray of larvae, her pale cheeks flushed with the intensity of her concentration on the squirming white insects. A few more of the infant silk moths crawled over her palm, while her other was poised over her sketchbook, pencil in hand.

  “Hello, Lio.”

  He had once whispered to her all his most eloquent professions of love. Every time he was in her presence now, he was as dumb as a Tenebran macer. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spoken in the past few months, but forced, awkward politenesses hardly qualified as conversation.

  Lio unclasped his hands from behind his back, realizing only then that he had put them there. His tell, Cassia called the gesture. That made him think of the first time he had talked to her about Xandra and how his Grace had laughed with him over his foolishness.

  Remembering that night, he managed to speak. “Xandra. Hello. How are you?”

  “Oh, this is ridiculous. Just come sit down.”

  “You’re right, it is. Thank you. I will.”

  He took the bench on the other side of the table from her. She eased the worms she held back into the tray with their five hundred siblings. How fortunate for them that they had hatched in Orthros, where they would not die to produce their coveted fibers.

  “How is the latest generation of the Alexandrian silk moth faring?” Lio asked politely. The worms were always a safe and successful topic of conversation.

  “Very well, thank you,” said their namesake. “It’s really working to cross wild silk moths with cultivated Imperial ones to reintroduce traits lost through domestication.”

  “Congratulations again on your promotion to full sericulturalist.”

  “Kia and Nodora and I weren’t about to let you and Mak and Lyros progress from initiate status without us. I was planning to earn my promotion with a more spectacular hybrid, but in hindsight I’m glad I didn’t wait. I’ll save those plans for the future when I apply for mastery.”

  Lio glanced at Xandra’s sketchbook to see she was filling yet another volume with anatomical diagrams of her breed at each stage of life. She never seemed to tire of making new portraits of her thousands of identical babies. Her drawings were at once scholarship, craft and meditation.

  She closed her sketchbook and set it aside, giving Lio her full attention. “I’m glad you decided to come by. I missed you.”

  “I—”

  She held up a hand. “No. Don’t start the conversation by apologizing again.”

  “I owe you an apology for how long it’s taken me to come see you.”

  She sighed and put her face in her hand. Then she straightened and planted both fists on the table. “Lio, I am going to tell you something I never said when we still had our understanding. I am sick to death of your self-deprecation, and your struggles with yourself wear me out. My struggles with myself are tiring enough, and your attempts to help me with them never made me feel better. I hate feeling like a pupa who is late to metamorphose. We aren’t silkworms trying to burst from our cocoons. We are Hesperines and just as we ought to be. For your sake, I hope you stop trying so hard. But even if you don’t, I’m not going to let your perfectionism make me feel imperfect anymore.”

  Lio sat in silence for a very long moment. “Is that how I made you feel? Really?”

  “Don’t apologize. It just digs you deeper into your perfectionism hole.”

  “But I feel terrible. That was the last thing in the world I ever intended. I always tried to treat you better than anyone.”

  “Like your personal goddess, yes. Which made me feel I had something to live up to and should not be the messy creature I am.”

&nb
sp; “You aren’t a—a ‘messy creature,’ Xandra! You’re the Queens’ daughter! The youngest princess of Orthros. We should all treat you with honor and cherish you.”

  “You don’t have to treat me like a princess, Lio. Just treat me like me. I’m not a goddess, I’m a person.”

  “If not an apology, then what can I possibly do to repair this…perfectionism hole, into which I sank both of us?”

  “You’re on your own down there now. Don’t ask me to figure it out for you. I’ll give you some free advice, though. Stop worrying so much.”

  She was right—he had worried too much. He’d been so afraid the success of his relationship with Cassia would only make Xandra dwell on the failure of his relationship with her.

  But she sounded nothing short of thrilled to be rid of him.

  They were both relieved it was over.

  The only person agonizing over failures was Lio. He was the one who had reduced what he and Xandra had shared to a personal measuring stick. Mak and Lyros had warned him about the dangers of dwelling on mistakes, and he had thought he’d seen the light. But Xandra had remained his blind spot. Until now.

  He shook his head. “I’ve been so—”

  “Distracted,” Xandra said judiciously.

  “—self-absorbed,” he realized.

  “Oh, Lio. Don’t you see we’re all trying to make it easier for you? Like I said, stop being so rough on yourself.”

  “It’s just that I was so determined not to hurt you any more than I already have. But I’m only now realizing I hurt you more than I knew.”

  “I’m not that fragile, Lio. I know I’m not easy to deal with. My emotions are as volatile as my magic, and I wear my responsibilities about as gracefully as a newblood caught levitating at dawn. But how in the world did I ever give you the impression I am fragile?”

  “In hindsight, I think I owe that impression entirely to myself. It never occurred to me my efforts to love and respect you were more like…”

  “Treating me like a glass votive Hespera statue. Our Trial sibs sometimes shelter me too much as well, but you’re the—”

  “Worst.”

  “Most protective. Do you really think any of us are that fragile? How do you think it makes us feel when we see ourselves through your eyes? One moment you’d think we’re likely to shatter if you treat us poorly. The next moment, we’re judges harsher than the Akron’s jury, likely to hate you forever if you make a single error. That couldn’t be more false. We’re your friends. Your Trial sisters and brothers. We are the first people whose strength you should lean on, and the last from whom you should expect censure.”

  While Lio had been struggling to redefine what Xandra now meant to him, she had written the dictionary and moved on to her next project. “Xandra, I realize now I should not enshrine you like a goddess. But would you object if I thanked you for giving me some of Hespera’s own wisdom?”

  “I may be prone to fits of temper, irresponsibility and small feelings. But just like all of you, I am prone to my fair share of moments of divine wisdom as well. I shall let you thank me for that.”

  “You’re right. I should stop apologizing. I’m not going to say I’m sorry about any of it, because I’m not. Not when we learned so much from each other. And, well, thorns, we had so much fun.”

  “I’m glad that’s how you feel. I do too.” She flashed him her grin, which always made her eyes light up and her magic spark.

  He met her gaze, in which he had not found his future, but did see a good past. “All those years. I think it would be a shame to regret anything.”

  Her aura softened. “So do I. I think everything turned out just as it should have, exactly when it ought to.”

  He extended a hand across the table to her, palm up. She slid her hand into his for a moment, gave him a squeeze, then let him go.

  “How about, instead of an apology, I give you a promise,” he offered. “From now on, I will make every effort to acknowledge your strengths as a craftsperson, a mage—and a friend.”

  “As long as you don’t turn that into your next lofty goal to live up to.”

  “Understood. For what it’s worth, even though I made you feel fragile, I have never believed you to be weak. Not you, of all people. In fact, I came here tonight to request that you lend me your power as a royal firstblood and member of the Circle.”

  “Oh! You came to ask me for my vote?” She straightened on her bench, clasping her hands in front of her.

  “I can count on Kia, Nodora, Mak and Lyros for a show of partisanship, and I hope that coming from the children of the elder firstbloods, their favor will make a statement before the Circle. But ultimately our parents are the voices of our families, and when they cast the vote for each of our bloodlines, I am not sure they will take our view. You know how much it would mean to have your support—your authority to not only make your voice heard, but to vote independently.”

  “Yes, it’s occasionally useful that I am duty-bound to found my own bloodline and perpetuate the Queens’ power among our people, which gives me a firstblood vote.” She frowned at him. “But new windows for Imperial libraries don’t call for partisans and a royal vote. Just what are you presenting tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to make a proposal about the situation in Tenebra, and the Circle isn’t going to like it.”

  “If you’ve come up with an idea that could help, we should all be glad.”

  “You haven’t heard my plan yet. I must ask that you not tell any of the other firstbloods ahead of time, though. I don’t want the rest of the Circle to hear about my intentions until I come forward officially. I understand that might put you in a position you would rather avoid, especially with your brothers and sisters. If that’s the case, I won’t burden you.”

  She waved a hand. “Your secrets are safe with me, even from my formidable eldest sister. I’ve been in the Circle for most of a year now, and I have yet to tell Konstantina about how you and Kia destroyed a library scroll when you were trying to come up with a way to magically transcribe text.”

  “Oh thorns. Please don’t remind me.”

  “If Rudhira were here, though, I would advise you to tell him. He would consider your plan with an open mind and vote against the entire Circle without any hesitation, if necessary.”

  “I wish he was here, too.”

  “I miss him every time I vote and every hour in between.” Xandra sighed. “In his absence, I’ll do my best to be the royal who hears you out…and who isn’t afraid to ruffle everyone’s feathers.” She looked at Lio expectantly.

  He told her his plan.

  When he was finished making his case, she breathed another sigh. “You are going to be all right.”

  “I suppose that will depend on the Circle’s decision.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “I mean you are going to be all right with yourself. When I found out you broke all the rules while you were in Tenebra, I knew there was hope for you. This puts my mind entirely at ease. If you’re willing to even consider this, despite how our elders will react, you can see the light at the top of the hole. If you go through with it, you will have dug yourself out.”

  “I never thought of it in those terms, that’s for certain.”

  “It should be obvious. Something is finally more important to you than approval.”

  Saving lives. Securing peace.

  Cassia.

  All of that was so much more important than a pat on the head from his elders.

  “I realized that on the embassy’s last night in Tenebra when I told my uncle I’d walked all over the terms of the Summit, and I had absolutely no regrets.”

  “Don’t backslide and say you’re sorry,” Xandra warned him, “but I do wish we’d talked earlier. I think things have actually been all right between us for a while now.”

  They had been, ever since the night Cassia had told him not to regret Xandra. He should have had enough confidence in Xandra to realize she wasn’t sitting around regretting h
im, either. “That brings me to the most important thing I learned during the Summit.”

  “Something more important than courage?”

  Lio smiled. “She taught me that too. You see…I met someone in Tenebra.”

  Xandra laughed aloud. “Oh good. Because I met someone while you were in Tenebra.”

  The realization sank into Lio’s brain extra slowly. He wanted to think his mind might have grasped things a little faster if he were not so starved. He put a hand on his chest and bowed slightly. “May I hazard a guess I heard him departing via the back door upon my arrival?”

  “Yes.” Xandra blushed.

  And Lio had had the presumption to think the delay had been due to some dread on Xandra’s part. That her reason for making him wait had been all about himself. That her cheeks were flushed with enthusiasm for worms. “Please note that I’m not apologizing. Just congratulating you, with all my heart.”

  “Thank you, Lio.”

  He hesitated. “Would you like to tell me about him?”

  “Certainly. I want you to know I haven’t kept this from you on purpose. I introduced him to everyone else, and if you’d come out to the docks with us all, you would have had a chance to get to know him too. But perhaps you have, in any case. Have you met any of the new theramancy students lately?”

  Now Lio understood why the others had been so eager for him to talk with Xandra. He smiled slowly. “Yes, just the other night, Mother introduced me to a few of the guests who are mind healers. He’s the young dignitary studying with Annassa Soteira, isn’t he? The recent graduate of the Imperial university whose merit exams place no limit on how far he can rise in the Imperial administration. He aspires to serve as a Diviner of the High Court.”

  “But his knowledge doesn’t come only from scholarship. He started his career in his family’s farm, close to the soil. He’s not afraid to shovel compost.”

  “I seem to recall his family are the Empress’s cousins, and their estates are known for producing the finest beer and mead.”

  “Yes! We started talking about their bees and my silk worms and, well.”