“Is the rest of the royal party following you?” Arkady was asking, as Stellan forced his growing paranoia away to concentrate on Declan’s reply. You worry about nothing, he assured himself. Hawkes would die before he allowed anything to hurt Arkady and I trust her implicitly.
“The king and queen were an hour or so behind me,” he was assuring Arkady. “I rode on ahead so you can tell me of your progress with our would-be immortal.”
Relieved there was a rational explanation for Hawkes’s early arrival, Stellan smiled. “Arkady has been quizzing him quite diligently. She wanted to chop his pinkie off.”
Declan’s face creased into a smile. “That sounds like something Arkady would suggest. As for proving his immortality, for all we know, it could be true.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Caelish have never heard of him. Or if they have, they’re denying it.”
“Then he’s not a Caelish agent?” Arkady asked, with a glint in her eye that made Stellan wonder if she was still planning to dismember their prisoner.
“There’s a question about whether or not he’s even from Caelum,” Declan told them. “According to my sources, the only reason the Caelish Ambassador hasn’t denied it officially yet is because his government is still trying to decide if there’s some sort of profit to be made by claiming him.”
“If he’s not Caelish, what is he then?” Stellan asked. “Tenacian, perhaps? Senestran? He’s too fair-skinned to be Torlenian.”
“He says he’s Kordanian,” Arkady informed them, clearly sceptical of the claim.
Declan shrugged. “That’s convenient. Claim to come from a nation that no longer exists. Who decided he was Caelish, anyway?”
“I believe that’s what he said when he first arrived in Glaeba,” Arkady informed them. “Or they assumed it. It doesn’t surprise me to discover he’s lying. Cayal lies about everything.”
Stellan shook his head. “Are you sure we’re not just dealing with a madman?”
“Not entirely,” Arkady conceded. “But I suspect not. His story is too well thought out to be the ravings of a lunatic.”
“Well, you’re the one interrogating him,” Declan told her, “so I’ll leave you to be the judge. Just be careful.”
“We can’t be faulted on this, Declan,” Stellan assured him, a little surprised to hear the spymaster issue such a warning. “We’ve done everything according to the strictest letter of the law. The fear this man might be a Caelish agent left us no other choice.”
“Don’t be too sure of that, your grace,” the young man warned. “To an outsider it looks as if you have your wife interrogating a potential spy, instead of executing him again or handing him over to me officially. Someone is bound to read something into that.”
“You know the reasons we can’t execute him again as well as anybody, Master Hawkes. And it was your suggestion Arkady become involved.”
“Yes,” the spymaster conceded. “But that was before Prince Mathu invited himself here. It’s not what I believe that counts, my lord. It’s what the king believes. And right now, you have another cousin suffering intense embarrassment because the king’s heir would rather be in Lebec with you than in Venetia with the mentor his father chose for him.”
Arkady glanced at her husband with an expression that spoke volumes, but she was too polite to say I told you so with Declan Hawkes looking on.
“Mathu hasn’t put a foot wrong since he’s been here,” Stellan reminded him.
“A situation that simply makes Duke Reon look even more incompetent.”
“Am I in trouble with the king?” Stellan asked, a little sick of Hawkes’s instinctive need to hedge around the real issue.
Hawkes shrugged. “Let’s just say that both the king and the Duke of Venetia are acutely aware of the crown prince’s presence, not to mention his exemplary—and quite out of character—behaviour, in Lebec.”
“Enteny only had to say something and I would have sent Mathu back to Reon in Venetia,” Stellan reminded him.
It was Arkady, as usual, who saw straight to the heart of the problem, even before Hawkes could answer.
“You should have known, Stellan,” she told him. “That’s what the king will be angry about. He’s mad at you because he shouldn’t have had to say anything about it at all.”
Chapter 28
Jaxyn Aranville waited a good long time before he attempted to speak with Arkady at the ball. There was no point going near her early in the evening. As Stellan’s hostess, either she was too busy organising the legion of Crasii slaves on duty for the occasion or she was occupied greeting their guests with her husband, Mathu, and the King and the Queen of Glaeba. Either way, she had no time to spare for a houseguest whose only function this evening was not to draw attention to himself.
He watched her from afar, thinking the Duchess of Lebec was going to be a real challenge. It wasn’t just her physical attributes that attracted him. Arkady offered a challenge the likes of which he hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. She genuinely despised him. What’s more, she despised him for the purest and most admirable of reasons. She could see through him.
And that, to Jaxyn’s mind, meant that she understood him.
To understand him, Jaxyn figured, she must be able to think along the same lines. To fully appreciate the depth of his ambition, she must have a similar ambition of her own. It was that which Jaxyn found so enticing. The idea that in the perfectly proper Arkady there might lurk a soul mate was like dangling a piece of shiny string in front of a kitten. Even if she didn’t realise the truth in herself, the fun would come from peeling away those protective layers she had drawn about herself, exposing the darkness lurking underneath.
It was more than enticing, Jaxyn decided. It was nigh on irresistible.
Corrupting innocence is easy, after all; corrupting the self-righteous…now that is infinitely more satisfying.
Jaxyn had watched the party rather than taken part in it. He had a very comfortable life here in Lebec and wasn’t about to ruin it by embarrassing Stellan. He kept to the fringes, smiling, drinking and nodding to the few people he wished to acknowledge and avoiding those friends of the family likely to ask awkward questions about his activities, or worse, actual members of the Aranville family. It was close to midnight before he deemed it safe to approach Arkady. By then everyone had consumed enough alcohol that he could count on hazy memories tomorrow, if need be—including his own.
Not that it mattered much. Nobody was really watching him. All eyes were on the crown prince, the room talking of nothing but the attention the young man had paid to Kylia Debrell all evening. And what was Prince Mathu doing in Lebec anyway? Hadn’t the king sent him to Reon in Venetia?
Kylia was wearing a much more demure gown than Arkady. Dressed in layers of pale green silk so fine they were almost transparent, she wafted around the ballroom, her gaze only for the crown prince, ignoring every other person in the room.
The prince’s obvious attraction to her didn’t surprise Jaxyn. She might have Stellan believing she was an innocent, but Jaxyn knew better. The girl was a born seductress. What remained to be seen was how her machinations would impact on Jaxyn’s plans. He hadn’t decided yet if Kylia was going to be a problem, partly because he wasn’t entirely convinced she had the skills to snag herself a prince, which was clearly her intention, and the reason the gossips were so busy. He watched her looking into Mathu’s eyes as they danced, her face alight with happiness, and shook his head.
Poor Mathu didn’t stand a chance, really.
Putting aside the dilemma of Kylia, Jaxyn turned his attention to his own, more immediate problem. As the evening wore on he worked his way surreptitiously around the ballroom, nodding a greeting here, smiling there, even taking the time out to partner Lord Devalon’s decrepit old wife through the quadrille. When he finally got near Arkady, he hesitated, content to just admire her from a short distance. She was addressing a number of slaves, issuing more orders, and the can
ines listened eagerly, determined to please. True, that was the nature of canine Crasii. The eagerness of dogs to please their masters was the reason the Tide Lords chose to blend dogs and humans into household slaves in the first place, Jaxyn knew. Arkady had a way of dealing with them that went beyond simple inbred loyalty. The Crasii actually loved her. They wanted to be her slaves.
“Did you wear that dress for me?” Jaxyn asked, sidling up to Arkady as she finished ordering the last few slaves to bring out another platter of pastries for the dessert table, and they’d hurried off to do her bidding. “You certainly didn’t wear it for your husband.”
The party had thinned a little, but still had a way to go before it was done. The king and queen hadn’t retired yet, and most of the guests would not dare leave before they did. Arkady turned to Jaxyn, smiling, far too aware of the need to publicly maintain her gracious posture to react to his taunt.
“Lord Aranville,” she replied. “How nice of you to join us this evening.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he assured her, slurring his words a little. “You look stunning, by the way. But you know that already, don’t you. Want to know how I can tell?”
She sighed in annoyance, but her smile never wavered. Anybody watching them from a distance would be unable to determine the nature of their discussion unless they could lip-read. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“It’s because you’re never surprised when a man tells you how beautiful you are. You accept the compliment like it’s your due.”
“Then consider your dues paid and get out of my way,” she told him pleasantly.
He moved a little closer, running his fingers lightly down her exposed back. He felt her stiffen with shock under his touch, but she couldn’t do anything about it without drawing attention to them both. “Can I come to your room tonight?”
“Only if you fancy being castrated.”
“I’m serious, Arkady.”
“So am I, Jaxyn,” she assured him, stepping away from his hand.
Jaxyn’s smile widened. The more he had to do with Arkady Desean, the more convinced he became that she was just like him. “Stellan wouldn’t mind.”
“I would.”
“Only until you came to your senses.” He cast his gaze over her enticing cleavage. “And I could arrange for that to be days from now.”
Arkady surprised him by laughing aloud. “No wonder you’ve turned to your own sex for gratification, Jaxyn. No woman over the age of fourteen would fall for that line.”
Jaxyn glanced around, surprised she had made such a statement so openly. There was nobody within earshot, fortunately, and even if there had been, with the music and the level of conversation going on in the ballroom, she probably wouldn’t have been overheard. Still, Arkady was proving herself far more willing to take risks than he first suspected.
“You like living dangerously, don’t you?”
“Unlike you,” she retorted, “who likes living like a well-kept pet.”
He raised a brow at her and grinned. “Jealous?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Ah, that’s right…I’m a profligate parasite, but you have your noble academic work to keep you occupied, don’t you?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jaxyn,” she scolded sweetly, her smile dripping venom. “You have important work, too. Whoring can be a real challenge, I’m told.”
“Have you broken Cayal yet?”
His question took her by surprise, shaking her out of her smug condescension. “What?”
“The Immortal Prince?” he reminded her. “Cayal of Lakesh. Have you broken him yet? Proved his mortality.”
“What’s that got to do with you?”
“Just curious.”
“It’s none of your business, Jaxyn, whether I have or not.”
“I bet you’d wrap those gorgeous long legs around a real Tide Lord if you were given half a chance.”
She glared at him. “You should retire now, Jaxyn, while I’m still in the mood to dismiss your remarks as the drunken ramblings of a small-minded fool.”
“And you should learn to quit while you’re still ahead of the game, Arkady. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even realise they’ve tied you to the pyre.”
She shook her head, clearly puzzled by his warning. “What are you babbling about?”
He almost told her, but stopped himself at the last moment. She wasn’t ready yet and this game had a long way to go before it was done. “Nothing. You were right. It’s just the drunken ramblings of a fool. Care to dance?”
“Don’t be absurd!”
“Then I and my drunken, foolish ramblings shall retire, your grace. This is your party, after all, and this well-pampered pet doesn’t fancy having to find a new home anytime soon.”
She stepped back from him, obviously confused by his erratic behaviour and more than a little disturbed by it. “Goodnight, Jaxyn.”
“Your grace.” He bowed to his hostess, wobbling a little on the way down, and then headed off across the ballroom leaving Arkady staring after him, clearly concerned.
With his back to her, he smiled, not nearly as inebriated as Arkady thought he was. He hadn’t gotten any closer to seducing her, that was true, but he had worried her enough that it was unlikely she would think about much else for the rest of the evening.
Any night Arkady couldn’t get her mind off him was a success, Jaxyn believed. Every worried frown, every nervous sip of wine she took while wondering what he was up to, who he was speaking to, who he might be offending, who he might be sharing Stellan’s dangerous secret with…every one of them was a moment spent thinking of him and that, Jaxyn knew, was half the battle.
The first rule of seduction was to make your victim aware of you.
Forcing them to think of little else was the touch of a master.
Chapter 29
The morning after the ball, Stellan and Enteny Debree, the King of Glaeba, took a turn by the lake before breakfast, their first chance to speak in private since the king had arrived in Lebec. Although nothing had been said so far, Stellan knew his cousin was displeased, and wondered if the consequences were going to be anything more dire than a telling off. Enteny was not an unreasonable man, but neither was he particularly flexible. Nor was he very tolerant of his son’s peccadilloes. Or of those who appeared to condone them.
Enteny was tall and well built, the muscle of his youth softened with age. His hair was completely grey now, his face lined by a lifetime of worries few normal men ever had to deal with. They walked beside the water’s edge in silence for a time, the ground squelching underfoot, and when the king finally spoke, it was of inconsequential things. It took him some time to get to the real reason he had asked for this stroll along the shore. The sun was still low on the eastern horizon, a faint mist hovering over the lake. The rushes whispered softly on Stellan’s right, the rustling caused by the birds that nested in the tall reeds. There was no wind. With the overcast sky just waiting to burst, the air felt so still it was as if the world was holding its breath.
“Mathu seems to have enjoyed his time here in Lebec,” the king remarked finally. “Unexpected though it was.”
“I’m sorry, Enteny,” Stellan replied. “I should have consulted you before bringing him here.”
“You should have sent him straight back to Reon,” the king scolded. “It was not Mathu’s choice where I sent him and certainly not your role to override my wishes. I’m still not even sure how he wound up here in Lebec. Reon’s claiming you engineered the whole thing with the express purpose of throwing my son and your niece together.”
The duke shook his head. “If I was planning a union between Kylia and Mathu, I would have come to you long before now, Enteny, and proposed the damn thing formally. I’ve nothing to gain by throwing them together and hoping they fall in love.”
“Well…are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Planning to approach me ab
out Kylia and Mathu?”
“No.”
“Why not?” the king grumbled. “Isn’t my son good enough for a Desean?”
Stellan smiled. “I was under the impression you had Reon’s eldest daughter, Sarina, in mind for Mathu’s consort. Hence the reason you sent him to Venetia in the first place.”
Unexpectedly, the king sighed. “Tides, is everything I do so damned transparent?”
“Speculating about who will marry your son is a sport that’s been popular since Mathu drew his first breath. It’ll just get worse until he’s finally off the market.”
The king didn’t seem surprised by the news. “Karyl Deryon tells me the same thing. Was I the subject of so much intense conjecture when I was his age?”
“Probably,” Stellan agreed. “I’m too young to remember it myself. You were already married by the time I first came to Herino Palace.”
Enteny stopped walking and looked out over the lake, squinting a little as the rising sun gilded a narrow path along the still water. He was silent for a time and then turned to his cousin. “Reon’s very angry, Stellan. He’s angry with Mathu for leaving Venetia without so much as a by-your-leave. With you for bringing him here to Lebec instead of sending him back. With Lord Deryon for seeking your help when the boy turned up in Herino, instead of sending word to Venetia. With me for not insisting you send him back…”
“Why didn’t you write to me the moment you learned Mat was in Lebec and demand I send him back to Reon?” Stellan asked. “I was half-expecting you to.”
Enteny shrugged. “Because Reon’s a fool and a bore and in Mat’s place I probably would have wanted to do the same thing. Not that you’re to ever let him know I said that. Right now, my son thinks I’m planning to have him dismembered. I intend to let him continue thinking that for a few more days at least. Not only will it do Mathu good to sweat for a bit, but it makes Reon think I’m suitably outraged as well.”
“And what punishment have you in mind for me, your majesty?” Stellan enquired with a raised brow. “That will satisfy the Duke of Venetia?”
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