Britta pushed a finger to his lips, shushing him. He didn't understand why until she stood tiptoe and pressed her lips to his own. He let her. Some part of him, long trained to bury such grotesque displays of emotion, stirred. Britta's soft lips smooshed against his own hardness. She wrapped her arms around him, holding her warm body against his as their tongues met, twined and twirled. Lucius wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cease, lose himself in that most secret void of her so that there was no more he or she, but one person between them. All this swirled around inside him, made him dizzy. Was he even breathing? Was she? He should do something, say something. And then, without thinking, he did.
He pushed her away.
They stared at each other, breathless.
"I'm sorry," Britta said. "You just looked so. . ."
"It's fine," he said, even though it wasn't."
"Really. I am sorry. It was inappropriate. I was out of line."
"No, really. It's fine." The idea of grabbing her and kissing her again to keep her from apologizing again flashed through his mind. Before the situation could become anymore tense, however, Valex burst through the door at the end of the hallway. "Dux Lucius! Dux Lucius!"
Lucius tensed, afraid of the worst.
"The doctor sent me. Ava's awake."
Without hesitation, Lucius broke into a flat run down the hall.
***
Britta wasn't exactly sure had just happened. Brain full of giddiness and apprehension, she rushed after her groom-to-be, following him towards his daughter's bed. What had she been thinking? She hadn't been. Lucius had looked like a man in need of comforting, so she comforted him. A kiss though? And he'd kissed her back, at first. Britta couldn't make sense of how she felt or why she'd done what she'd done. When she returned to the abbey, she would ask Weboshi–
No, she couldn't. The thought struck Britta in the jaw, but she didn't let it slow her down as she followed Dux Lucius to Ava's bedside. There the girl sat, propped up on pillows. Yes, she was awake, but she looked far from well. Ava's little lips quivered into a smile when she saw her father. He resumed his station kneeling beside her bed. She threw her arms around his neck. In a show of affection Britta hadn't thought him capable of a few hours ago, Lucius returned the embrace.
The doctor sidled up beside her. "She'll be fine," he said. "A simple toxin made from a puffer fish found at the bottom of the harbor."
"Why tell me?"
The doctor quirked an eyebrow, the edges of his lips in a slight frown. "I thought you were the mother."
"Ah – No, it's fine. Tell me, what should we do from here?"
"Not much. It's a useful paralytic, so I often use it in surgery. Without the antidote, the poison is – oh, what's the word I'm looking for? – Sticky. It's a sticky poison. Untreated, it can last for days. In the right proportion, however, the antidote is quick acting. I'm not used to using it on children, so she might be groggy for a couple days, but you should see steady improvement."
"Thank you doctor," Britta said.
"Call me if her condition worsens. It shouldn't, but just in case."
"Yes, thank you."
He gave her a slight nod and pleasant smile before he slipped out the door. Britta turned her attention back to the sick girl and her father. They'd stopped embracing, and Ava had slumped back down into the bed, giving off little snores as she slumbered. Dux Lucius stood with a grunt.
"Thank you again," he said. "For finding her. For calling the doctor. You saved my little girl's life."
"Don't thank me," she said. "Give me something in return."
"Anything within my power," he said.
"Dawn is soon, too soon for me to make it home before sunrise. I need a place to stay until nightfall."
Chapter 11
Alone in the giant room Lucius had found for her, surrounded by luxuries she'd never seen, Britta reflect on how she'd been doted on her entire life. She'd always thought the abbey was the pinnacle of wealth in the city, but these few visits to the Governor's manse had divested her of the illusion. As she stripped her cloak off and climbed between the soft, warm covers, she wondered what the room's glittering crystal and polished silver looked like in the light of day.
Those thoughts were a nice distraction from what she wanted to think about – Weboshi and her betrayal. And then there was the Dux. Every time her dozing thoughts drifted to him, the feel of his lips, his stubble against her cheek, his smell, she shuddered with excitement – then guilt. How could she be giddy when the woman who'd raised her was about to die? No matter how soft and comfortable the bed, no matter how darkened the room, Britta couldn't stop tossing, turning, thinking. If only there was something she could do to help. But she couldn't. Why should she, anyway? Misguided as she'd been, Weboshi had endangered them all. Britta couldn't forgive her for that, or for kidnapping and poisoning a child. Still, she couldn't exactly stop caring for the closest person she'd had to a mother. Britta's feelings whiplashed back and forth throughout the day until she finally dragged herself, red and bleary eyed, out of bed.
Dusk, she thought, her body long used to waking on its own when the time was right. She peeked out the window to see she was right. She dressed, wishing for a bowl of water with which to wash up. The lack of one made her sharply aware of her handmaiden's absence.
Well, she couldn't stay in this room all night and sulk. She needed to get home to the abbey. Surely the Abbess of Night awaited her word on what had transpired, though Britta thought she might conveniently forget to mention the kissing part.
Britta wanted to check on Ava one last time and say goodbye, but as she stepped out into the hallway, she found the Governor's manse in a tizzy. People rushed everywhere. "Governor," she said over the din as she caught sight of him at the top of the stairs. He stopped in his tracks. His eyes glanced downstairs, then back at her. Furtive, she thought, suspicious. He doesn't want to talk to me. He took a step down, but got no farther before she caught his shoulder. "Governor?"
"Britta," he said.
"What's the matter?"
"You should find the Dux."
"No, I'm asking you."
He made one last glance down the stairs then sighed in resignation. He motioned her off to the side to let the people traffic through. "It's the woman who kidnapped Ava."
"Weboshi? What about her?"
"She's escaped."
Britta covered her mouth to keep from screaming. The world tumbled away from her and she stumbled backwards a few steps. The Governor leaned over her hunched form and put one hand on her back. "It's possible her co-conspirators helped her, or stole her to silence her."
Britta shoved him away. "No!"
"Please–"
"No!" Britta's knees wobbled. She stumbled away from him. "Lucius," she said. "I have to find Dux Lucius."
"He'll be at the garrison. Wait–"
But she didn't. She ran down the stairs, through the crowd, and out of the manse.
***
"The harbormaster's refusing to pull the chain," said Valex, just arrived from the docks.
Dux Lucius swallowed the anger that welled up in him. It wasn't the boy's fault. It wouldn't be right to let his anger show, especially not to an underling. Before, it wouldn't even have been a struggle, but last night's events had unmoored something in him. They'd opened the dam that held back the torrent of his emotions. Unused to being free, Lucius couldn't contain them with the ease of before. A crisis like this was the worst possible time for him to be on the edge of losing control. It caused him to second guessed every decision he made, afraid he'd made it in anger, or some other emotion. He'd lost his objectivity. Yes, the worst possible time.
"Go back. Captain Marcus is there searching the ships. Tell him to take his cohort and raise the chain themselves," he said.
"Sir, the harbormaster said that if she'd escaped by ship, she was already long gone."
"That's not how Anksharans think," said Dux Lucius. "That's just how they want you to th
ink they think."
"I don't understand."
"Just go."
"You don't understand, sir," said Valex, "there might be a riot. People are massing at the docks."
There wasn't anything unusual about that. The docks were the center of the city's nightlife now that the abbey no longer accommodated revelers. "So? They gather at the docks every night."
"Not like this, sir."
Dux Lucius pulled out his spyglass. He rushed upstairs to the top of the garrison from which he could see the whole of the city. He extended the telescope and set his gaze upon the docks, sweeping back and forth as he took in the gathering. Lucius hadn't imagined there were so many people in the city. Did they know what was going on? How could they not? The search for Weboshi was an operation that relied on speed, not subtlety. Of course word had got out. Now the people of the city broiled with anger that one of their beloved priestess was subject to a city-wide manhunt. Lucius wished he'd had more time to drill his men in preparation for this inevitability.
The city was about to burn, and it would be on his watch. Before he could get too maudlin over it, he caught movement on the street below out of the corner of his eye.
Britta. He'd wanted to wake her before he left and tell he what was going on, but he'd been in a hurry.
Three men from his father's household guard crowded around her, preventing her from coming farther down the road towards the garrison. From so far away, Lucius couldn't hear what they said, but he got the gist of it. He rushed down the stairs, out of the heavy iron door, and down the street. He arrived as one of the guards started dragging her away.
"Wait!" Lucius shouted, but the guard didn't stop. Had he heard him? Had to have. To be sure, Lucius shouted his command again. Instead of responding, the guard pulled out his sword and raised it as if to slice Britta's head clean off. For her part, she just stared up, a blank expression on her face – a state of acceptance, that, in that moment, Lucius wished he could achieve. Before the man could swing, Dux Lucius lunged forward and caught the man's wrist. He swung the guard around to face him.
"What do you think you're doing?" Dux Lucius shouted in the man's face.
The man's mouth bobbed, he looked past the Dux at the other guards.
"Why didn't you listen when I told you to stop?"
The man shook his head.
"Answer me!"
"Sir!" said one of the other guards. "Sir, he's deaf."
Lucius let the confused guard go and turned to the other. "Why did you–"
"We thought it would be easier if he didn't have to hear her scream."
Dux Lucius thrust a hand out towards Britta. "Does she look like a screamer to you?"
The guard narrowed his eyes. "She looks like a heathen priestess."
"Get out of here, before I have you whipped and cashiered."
The guard didn't say anything for a moment. Would he draw arms on the man who commanded the imperial garrison and was his employer's son besides? No. Lucius saw the exact moment the guard thought better of it in the man's eyes.
The guard grabbed his gear. "Let's go," he said to his companions and the three men slipped away.
"Thanks," Britta said as Dux Lucius helped her up.
"Damned mercenaries. I don't even know what they're doing out on the street. They should be back at the manse. Speaking of which, what are you doing out here? You had to know it was dangerous."
"Everything about this city is dangerous. Why should tonight be any different?"
"But it is different."
"Is it?"
Dux Lucius sighed. He was about to ask her why she was being so disagreeable, besides the obvious answer of almost having her head chopped off, when Valex showed up again, this time with a scroll in his hands. "Sir! Sir! Another messenger just delivered this from the Governor."
"What does it say?" she asked.
Lucius unrolled the scroll and read it. "It's an order from my father for the immediate arrest of the Abbess of Night."
Britta's face went pale and cool. "He – he – I talked to him before I came here. He knew he was going to do this."
Dux Lucius scanned the letter again – desperate for some explanation, but there was none. He should have known this would happen. Weboshi's disappearance presented the perfect opportunity for his father to make a power play, to capture the city for the Emperor once and for all. But arresting the Abbess wouldn't be enough. No, just because their leader was under arrest didn't truly weaken the cloaked sisters. Arresting the Abbess for Weboshi's disappearance was only the first step. Step two was the riot that would ensue. Accuse the sisters of the abbey of having a hand in orchestrating it. Then suppress their religion. Mass executions would follow. Without a formal power structure to represent Ankshara, a wedding to unite their peoples would be unnecessary.
"Britta," he said. Her name caught in his throat. What was he supposed to do? Arrest her too? There had to be some mistake, someway to talk to his father. "Run," he said, his voice so low he could barely hear himself.
"What?"
"Run, Britta. Run. Hide."
"No–"
"Go!"
She stared at him for a moment, then broke into a run towards the abbey, the one direction he wished she hadn't went.
"With all due respect, sir, should you have let her go?" asked Valex.
Dux Lucius grabbed the boy by the ear. "Don't you have messages to deliver?"
Speaking of which, Lucius hadn't heard anything from the men he'd dispatched to search the docks yet. Not surprising with the gathering crowd down there. Sensing trouble, many ships had slipped their moorings and set out to sea, there should still be plenty for Marcus to search. Most likely, Marcus was too busy with his task to report back. And, Lucius hoped, it was a task Marcus would succeed at.
If Weboshi were found alive and well, Lucius might be able to diffuse the situation at the docks before it exploded. Sure, putting down a riot wouldn't hurt his career – might even enhance it – but Lucius's moral compass wouldn't let him take advantage of the situation so cynically. Which, though noble, wasn't the way the situation seemed to be going. Without having heard from Marcus's cohort, he wasn't sure how much progress was being made. He could send more men to the docks to assist with the search, but that might inflame the situation. Maybe if he had someone with him whose presence would allow extra men to pass unmolested.
Dux Lucius swallowed his groan. If only he'd thought of that before sending Britta away. Given the news she bore about the Governor's orders – orders Lucius hoped to figure out a way to stall carrying out – there was no way the cloaked sisters would let him in to talk to her. What now? He didn't doubt Britta would help if asked, the problem was getting to her. If he showed up with a contingent of soldiers, the abbey would assume he'd come to put the Governor's orders in action. But if he went by himself, it could be interpreted as desertion. That wouldn't just get him cashiered, it would get him executed.
Lucius squeezed the scroll with his father's orders, sorely tempted to tear it up – an act as treasonous as desertion. No, he thought, the orders represented an opportunity. If he could pull it off, use them as a prop in a diplomatic game. . . It might not work, but as the city simmered like a pot ready to boil over, Dux Lucius knew it was his only chance for a peaceful resolution.
Chapter 12
"Did we take her?" Britta asked the Abbess of Night. For the first time Britta could recall, the room was brightly lit. Everything inside it was just as worn down as everything without, but there was a sense of provenance to it all – a sense that these weren't just old things but genuine antiques. How long had they been in the abbey? Did they belong to the Abbess? Perhaps they were gifts handed down from one Abbess to the next. It was hard to say. Had there even been an Abbess of Night before this one? The abbey wasn't much for archives, and the oldest sister besides the Abbess herself was currently missing.
The Abbess of Night pushed a steaming cup of tea across the table. "Please, New Moon. Drin
k."
"I don't want any tea. I want the truth."
"I've been nothing but truthful with you. Surely I've proven that. So please, do you like sugar? How many lumps?"
"Abbess–"
"Truthful about everything except everything I've lied about." The Abbess lifted her cup of tea and took a careful sip.
"What? I don't – Please. Did we take her?"
"Think it through, New Moon."
Britta yanked the cup off the table, sloshing some of the hot tea on her hand. She didn't care. The anger inside her burned much more than a spot of spilled tea. She tossed the cup against the wall next to the door. It shattered, spilling its steaming contents to the floor. How old had that cup been? How much was it worth? Could it have been sold to repair the structure of the abbey itself? "No! No more games! Tell me: did we steal Weboshi away? No asking me to guess. No trying to convince me to follow a particular train of thought to the conclusions you want me to reach! A straight answer!"
The Abbess of Night set her cup down as gently as she might a baby, as if its sister hadn't just been smashed to a hundred jagged pieces. "We did not, New Moon. I did not take her. The abbey did not take her."
"Then where is she?"
The Abbess of Night's eyes narrowed. "Outside of my reach, it seems."
"You know where she's at."
"Not really. A guess."
Britta jumped to her feet. "We have to go get her. Rescue her. And as much as I hate to say it, give her back to the Regnals before–"
"No."
Britta blinked. "No? What? If we–"
"Look at it from the Regnal point of view, New Moon. We've already returned one of their own, kidnapped by one of ours. Then, the one who did the kidnapping vanishes, and we bring her back again. . ."
"The first time's helpful. The second time is suspicious."
The Abbess of Night smiled.
"But, if the city is set to explode anyway, shouldn't we try something?"
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