The Shadows Between Us

by Tricia Levenseller

  “Oh, no. He’s been wonderful about it. You might think I’m silly, but I just want to wait until I’m his wife.”

  I take her hand in mine. “There is nothing silly about waiting until you want to. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. It is your body to do with as you will.”

  She smiles at me then, and I worry that I might be the first person to tell her that.

  Waiting. Not waiting. One lover. A hundred lovers. There should be no judgment either way. A woman is not defined by what she does or doesn’t do in the bedroom.

  “What of you, Rhoda?” Hestia asks. “What’s the latest with you and Galen?”

  “If it were up to me, I would have bedded him after the ball,” Rhoda says. “Galen wants to wait. He muttered some nonsense about preserving my virtue. But if you ask me? He wants to wait until we’re married so I can’t change my mind. As if he has anything to worry about!”

  “Perhaps you need to be a bit more persuasive,” I suggest.

  “I’m open to ideas.”

  “Have you tried waiting for him in his bed at night?”

  “Yes!”

  “Already naked?”

  She opens her mouth. Pauses. “No.”

  “He won’t resist that.” In a more practical voice, I add, “You’d think he’d be a little more grateful after being made a lord. He should be worshipping you.”

  “So true,” Rhoda says. She sighs.

  And I look at my two friends. My first real friends. I thought women were always my competitors, people to be jealous of. How wrong I was.

  We’re all just so happy. I hope it lasts forever.

  The door to the sitting room bursts open, nearly flying off its hinges.

  “Lady Stathos, you’re ordered to appear before the king immediately.” Some nondescript guard issues the command. He’s flanked by two other men wearing the crest of the king.

  “Is Kallias all right?” I ask as I stand abruptly.

  “Take her,” the first guard says, and the other two flank me, each grabbing one of my arms, and start physically pulling me toward the doorway.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Rhoda yells from behind me. “That’s the future queen. Unhand her at once.”

  But she’s ignored, and my arms are bruised as I’m dragged up the stairs, toward the library that Kallias and I use for our private meals.

  After a while, I stop struggling and just bear the humiliation. I will deal with these three men once I’m with Kallias. Oh, how they’ll pay then.

  This is some sort of mistake. They must have misunderstood the king’s orders. I can’t imagine what he said to give them the impression I should be treated as a prisoner.

  But when they finally release me, I find Kallias alone in the library, his back to the door.

  “Wait outside,” he says to the guards. They do, shoving me unceremoniously toward the king.

  “Kallias, what is this? Gods, I have bruises from the guards!”

  He turns, his eyes going to my arms to assess the damage. Then, as if remembering himself, he looks away, hardening his features.

  “Why did you come to court?” he asks in a low tone.

  “Because you asked me to!” I’m fuming now.

  “No. What was your real purpose? Why were you at the ball, the one specifically set up by my advisers because they wanted me to select someone to court? Why did you ignore me, practically force me to come to you?”

  Dread sinks low in my chest, but how—how could he know?

  “Where are these questions coming from? Have I done something wrong? Kallias, it’s me.”

  Did Zervas spout more drivel about me being involved in his attacks?

  “The servants finished moving your things over to my room. This was found in your wardrobe.”

  He holds up the vial of minalen—the one I stole from the healer and then shoved into the back of my wardrobe ages ago.

  And promptly forgot about.

  “Kallias—”

  “You are suspected of treason,” he bites out. “And you will address me as Your Majesty for these proceedings.”

  Something in my heart twists, breaks, dissolves away. Leaving a gaping wound in its place. I need a lie. A convincing one. Fast. Now.

  But I, conniving, scheming Alessandra Stathos cannot think of a single thing to say when he looks at me with such loathing.

  “Why was this in your wardrobe?” he demands. “I’ve already had it examined by one of my healers. It’s the same kind of poison that was found in my cup after your ball.”

  Oh, a horrid coincidence.

  I open my mouth.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me, Alessandra.”

  I haven’t. Not really.

  “You’ve misled me, of course, when it came to Hektor and the baron. But I don’t think you’ve ever spoken an outright lie to me. Do you think I’d be able to tell if you were? Let’s find out. Now tell me what you used this for.”

  I look down at my fingers to find them shaking.

  “Look at me!” he says.

  I do. Any hesitation on my part would only seem as though I’m trying to come up with a lie. So the truth starts to spill out of me.

  “I—” I cough and force my face to remain calm. “I went to that ball with the intention of catching your eye,” I start.

  “I don’t need the whole story. What I need is for you to tell me who the poison was for and why.” He considers the vial. “It’s unopened, and it does you little good to kill me before we are wed. Were you working with Vasco? Did he put his plan into action too soon without you? Or were you working for him? Distracting me so that I would touch you and make myself vulnerable to him?”

  “No! I was not working for or with Vasco in any manner. I had nothing to do with what happened at the ball.”

  “Then what did you intend it for, Alessandra!”

  A single tear slides down my cheek. “You. I intended it for you.”

  The cruel man before me disappears for the briefest of moments. Kallias’s face falls, hurt softening his features. Then the villain is back.

  “Why?”

  “I had a plan. There were three simple steps. I was going to woo you. I was going to marry you. And then—”

  “And then what?”

  “And then I was going to kill you and take your kingdom for myself.”

  A bitter smile stretches across his lips. “That does sound like you.”

  “But, Kallias, I threw out that plan weeks ago. I no longer had any desire to kill you because I—”

  “What? You what, Alessandra?”

  Now the tears are coming quickly. I can’t look at him as I say it. I don’t want to say it, but my life is on the line. “I fell in love with you.”

  He laughs. The sound is not kind, and the empty space where my heart once was burns with pain. “All this time, I worried about old threats, when I should have also been looking for new ones. I suppose a king is never permitted friends or lovers. Not when every person in the world wants something from me.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Not anymore. I swear it. I never lied to you. I never pretended anything with you. I didn’t have to. Don’t you see?”

  “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “Kallias, please.”

  His neck snaps in my direction. “I told you. You are no longer allowed to address me in that way, Lady Stathos.”

  The hurt is so deep, but so is the anger.

  And that night with Hektor flashes into my mind.

  My knife is in my boot, of course. I could draw it much faster than Kallias could his rapier. Especially when he’s mostly turned away from me.

  And though my anger is rich and raw, I have no desire to reach down for my knife.

  I could never, never wish Kallias any harm.

  “You will leave,” he says. “I don’t care where you go, so long as I never have to see you again. If you come back here—if I ever have to look upon your face again, I’ll ki
ll you myself.”

  I rub at the tears as they fall. Try to gather my thoughts, but the ache in my chest is all consuming.

  “Leave, dammit! Before I change my mind!” He stomps toward me, and I think he might physically remove me from the room if I don’t find my feet.

  So I flee.

  “Be out of the castle by nightfall!” he says to my retreating back. “I don’t care if you have to leave your things behind.”

  That’s the last thing I hear. Out in the hallway, I see Hestia and Rhoda, waiting. They’ve brought my other friends, Leandros, Rhouben, and Petros. What do they mean to do? Plead on my behalf? They don’t know what I’ve done. Will Kallias tell them?

  “Alessandra—” Rhoda begins, but I ignore her. I rush past them all, streak up the stairs, ignoring the looks the servants give me as they see my red face and tearstained cheeks.

  “I’ll go after her,” I think I hear someone say distantly. “You speak with the king.” But I barely make sense of anything. Everything is a blur through the moisture at my eyes. I fumble for the key to my room three times before I get the door open. The space is completely empty.

  Right. I’ve been moved into his room.

  The tears start afresh as I stride over to the adjoining door. And I look into the room that’s been made to fit both his things and mine. Our wardrobes are side by side. Extra pillows have been added to the bed. My vanity has been placed on a free wall, near the washroom that smells like the soaps he used this morning.

  Looking at it all, at the evidence of the life I could have had, with him, I fall to the floor in a heap of skirts, my head dropping into my hands.

  How long until nightfall? I don’t know. I don’t care. Not when everything is ruined.

  I don’t know how long I sit there before the softest tapping reaches me.

  “Alessandra? May I come in?”

  I don’t answer. I try to rub my tears off on my sleeves.

  He comes in anyway.

  Leandros. He looks as though he has recently bathed, his hair still damp. The smell of roses wafts over me. He must have had petals in the water.

  “Oh dear,” he says when he sees me. Then he falls to the floor and gathers me to him, letting my head rest against his chest. One of his hands strokes my hair while his voice lets out soothing sounds.

  I’ve already cried myself dry, though. My tears cease.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

  “There isn’t anything to say. He’s sent me away. I have until nightfall to collect my things.” My voice sounds hoarse.

  Leandros tightens his grip. “How could he send you away? What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” I say. And it’s true. I’d been caught with the vial of poison, but I didn’t use it. I hadn’t actually done anything. I wasn’t going to do anything. Why did I ever steal it in the first place?

  “Then he’s a fool.” Leandros pulls back just enough to look at me, to wipe the last undried tear from my chin. “I know you’re hurting, but you will get past this. All will be well.”

  And as I sit there, staring at Leandros, I’m overcome with a sudden urge.

  The urge to hurt Kallias.

  He made me feel for him and then sent me away. Tossed me aside as has happened to me once before.

  How dare he?

  So I lean forward and kiss Leandros. He doesn’t return it. He’s rigid as a board before me, so I use my hands to scoot closer, before letting them drift around his neck. I catch his lower lip with my teeth, and that results in the most delicious noise from his throat.

  Then he returns everything in kind.

  He is an exceptional kisser, but he is not Kallias.

  I don’t care.

  My hands drift to his hair, still slightly damp. There’s a hint of some other scent about him, but I can’t quite place it. It mixes nicely with the rose.

  I wish Kallias would walk in. I wish he would think to check my progress. Wish he would change his mind and ask me to stay. Beg me for forgiveness. Get on his knees and—

  “Are you all right?” Leandros asks, pulling away. “You seem distracted.”

  All the years of practice with my previous lovers makes it easy to pretend. “You make it hard for me to think.”

  He grins.

  “You are too good for me,” I say. “How can you be so kind when I rejected you? Leandros, I’m so sorry. I never should have said no.”

  He leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose. “Think nothing of it. I knew you would see my merits eventually.”

  I smile as my eyes catch sight of the window. The sun is beginning to set. “I have to go. He ordered me away before sunset.”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t be gone long.”

  I reach for what I can find. A small purse of money. My favorite jacket to protect me from the cold. “You saw how angry he was.”

  “Give me some time to talk with him. You’ll be back at court, this time on my arm, in no time.”

  I feel sick. No, just miserable. Kallias would never permit me back at court, and even if he did, I couldn’t bear it to be here and not with him. I kissed Leandros, and for what? It didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t enrage Kallias. All it did was give Leandros false hope.

  Perhaps not entirely false. I can’t go back to my father. He’ll probably throw me out just like I did to him at my ball. My best chance is to marry quickly. Perhaps I can persuade Leandros to make an offer for me and then keep me in his country estate.

  “I will write to you,” I say.

  “I will collect you,” he answers. “When it’s time.”

  So optimistic. How does he manage it all the time? Surely it must be exhausting.

  CHAPTER

  29

  The carriage clops along the street, wending down the slope of the mountain, carrying me to an inn located at the base.

  In all my misery, I failed to realize one thing.

  I’m lucky to be alive. Kallias had every right and authority to order my immediate death. He could have me hanged along with Vasco and Zervas.

  But he told me to go.

  Why?

  Why would he do that?

  Not a single reason comes to mind.

  The passing scenery makes me sick. It reminds me of when Kallias and I rode up the mountain together. When I fell into him. When he trusted me with his secrets. When he remained a gentleman while we went swimming.

  He was anything but a gentleman last night.

  My heart seems to break all over again when I remember our time together. When I think of his touches and kisses. When I think of the things he whispered into my hair.

  Oh, but I did love him.

  But he was cruel in forcing the confession from me. And when I told him how I loved him, he laughed in my face.

  That person is not the Kallias I know.

  I have at least three more hours in the carriage to go, so I try to get comfortable, letting my legs rest against the opposite seat.

  He can’t do this to me. To us.

  We were perfect together. We were made for each other. As rulers. As lovers. There is no reason why we shouldn’t be together.

  My hands close into fists. I have to make him see it. I have to convince him. But is it worth the risk of my own life? He swore he’d kill me himself if I returned.

  How could I convince him I meant him no harm? How can I convince him I want the life he carved for us?

  My shoulders loosen and my hands fall open. A new wave of pain hits me as I see Kallias’s ring on my finger, but then my eyes catch on something below it.

  “Ugh.” A spot of dirt smudges the lower part of my hand. I attempt to rub it on the seat of the carriage. Kallias’s carriage.

  It doesn’t come off.

  I take a knuckle to it, and when that also doesn’t work, I wet a finger with my tongue and rub at it.

  But it won’t come off.

  Hesitantly, I lower my nose and sniff.

  That aroma from befor
e, the one mixed with Leandros’s roses, wafts gently toward me.

  I know this smell. How do I know this smell?

  My hands. They were in Leandros’s hair while I kissed him.

  Yes, hair! There is a product used in the dying of ladies’ hair. It smells just like this.

  But why would Leandros dye his hair?

  As I sit there, I remember Lady Zervas’s insistence that she is innocent, that she’ll be freed when the real killer shows themselves.

  Vasco is guilty. Of that I’m certain, but could he have roped his nephew into helping him?

  No, Leandros would never. Why would he? He was Kallias’s friend. He came to court after the death of Kallias’s brother. Why should Leandros have any motive to harm the king?

  But then I remember how he insisted I would be back in the palace soon and by his side. Still, why should he want to harm Kallias?

  I stare down at the spot on my hand.

  He came to court after the death of Kallias’s brother.

  When Kallias and I went to the gentleman’s club in disguise, I’d noticed how Kallias looked so much like Leandros with the lighter hair.

  What would Leandros have to gain from harming Kallias, unless …

  Devils!

  “Turn the carriage around!” I scream the words, and the carriage comes to a severe halt. I’m almost thrown onto the opposite seat.

  “My lady?” the coachman asks.

  “The king’s life is in peril. We must turn around at once.”

  “I’m—I’m to take you away. King’s orders.”

  I toss my head out the window, so I can glare up at the simple man. “And what do you think will happen when the king dies, and I tell the council you could have prevented it?”

  He still looks unsure.

  “I have fifty necos in my purse,” I say.

  At that, he turns the horses around, and we veer back up the mountain, this time at breakneck speed.

  * * *

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’m doing.

  Kallias is going to kill me. The moment he sees me, I’m dead. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to save myself, even if it meant someone else’s death. I still would—if it were anyone except for Kallias.

  I hate him.

  But I love him more.

  He needs to know the truth. Even if he kills me for it. He needs to know who murdered his parents. It wasn’t Zervas, and it wasn’t Leandros. It wasn’t even Vasco, but he must be involved somehow. I don’t quite have the whole of it figured out.