When he looked at Alexa, she was blinking her eyes. The Song had had an effect on her—a softening effect! Well, of course only those who truly appreciated music would be Summoned.
He served her first, then Umilla, then himself. As the first bite of sweetcheese melted in his mouth, he thought to thank his brother as well.
They had nearly finished the sweetcheese when the doorharp sounded.
Umilla's brows dipped, then she smiled. "That is Urvey with another vase." She stood.
"One moment." Alexa whisked the last wedge of pastry encrusted cheese onto a plate.
Bastien had been eyeing it, wondering if it would be rude to snatch. She handed the plate to Umilla.
"Give this to Urvey for his effort."
Umilla nodded and left.
"Urvey probably has never tasted sweetcheese in his life," murmured Bastien, listening to a surprised and pleased exclamation from his squire.
"So?" Alexa stood and placed the top set of dishes into a basket.
"So you are generous to your servants."
"Lladrana has a class structure. I'm still figuring out the ramifications and the fluidity of it. You are a second son, but have an estate of your own?"
"One of my mother's minor properties. My father would not let loose a clod of dirt that belongs to him."
Her smile was sharp. "He has had to, lately."
Bastien's temper rose as he recalled the story of Reynardus shooting magic at her, and the fine.
Alexa tilted her head. "You are considered an independent Chevalier. Do you get most of your income from your estate, or what? I have a Chevalier of my own, Pascal. I'm paying for his training and gave him a volaran. But I know some Chevaliers fight for gold and are mercenaries." She frowned as she mangled the last word.
Umilla entered the room with a large, lustrous purple vase, and disappeared into the bathroom to fill it with water.
"Some Chevaliers are associated with a noble landowner, who sends them to fight, like your Pascal."
"He's very young and will only win his volaran reins in a couple of days. I plan on sending him to my estate to become familiar with it."
"A good idea."
"And other Chevaliers?" Alexa asked.
"Some are minor nobles, some major nobles who have Chevaliers under them. Some knights fight for pay." He leaned forward. "But we all believe in defending Lladrana."
Alexa frowned. "No corrupt Chevaliers at all?"
"Perhaps one or two. On the whole, no."
Her gaze shot to him and he felt her mind probe. He allowed it through his upper layers.
"If we stay together," she said with a heavy accent. "You must promise to be honest. Not to lie. I must be able to trust you."
She looked out the window at the twilight landscape. "After—at the inn, when we woke up that morning, you weren't nice, but you were honest."
Bastien winced. "I—"
Umilla traipsed in, beaming. "It's full of water and bespelled so the flowers will stay pretty longer." She thrust the vase dripping with water into Alexa's hands.
"Very good." Alexa looked at the vase and sighed.
"What troubles you, sweeting?" Bastien asked.
Her expression didn't lighten as her gaze moved to him. "I'm tired of purple."
"If we Pair, we can choose our own color."
She snorted. "A stupid reason for Pairing." She wiped down the vase with her napkin, picked up the other bunch of flowers, arranged them with nimble fingers and walked into the bedroom.
Bastien watched the sway of her hips, unlike the walk of other women, then found Umilla staring at him, gnawing her lips in thought. He felt the brush of her Power.
"You could be good for her," Umilla said.
"Good for me? Ha!" said Alexa, entering the room.
Umilla looked back and forth from Alexa to him. "You have a sex bond," she said. "Not a blood-bond yet, but it can grow."
Alexa sat down and gestured to Umilla to serve the next course. "How do blood-bonds happen?"
"Through the sharing of blood," Bastien said matter-of-factly, accepting that this would be the strangest dinner conversation he'd ever had. That amused and intrigued him, much as did the woman herself.
"I guessed that. What does that mean, exactly?"
The scent of perfectly roasted dinfais made Bastien's mouth water.
"Light or dark meat?" asked Umilla.
"Dark," said Bastien.
"Light," said Alexa.
"And I like both because I am a black-and-white." Umilla giggled. A moment later all three plates had a serving of fowl and a medley of tender steamed vegetables. Umilla sat.
"Blood-bonds?" prompted Alexa.
"Blood-bonds are those of Paired people, or those who need to work closely together with a mental and emotional tie, like the Marshalls. I have a blood-bond with my family, since we share blood."
"Obviously." Alexa popped a bite of dinfais into her mouth and closed her eyes with pleasure.
Bastien's body stirred at the sight of her, so he distracted himself by taking his first bite. As the tasty, moist meat fell apart in his mouth he hummed in satisfaction.
"So good!" Alexa whispered. "The best meal I've eaten here."
"Me too," said Umilla.
Alexa smiled at her.
Umilla said, "The Marshalls tried to make you Pair with someone the morning after you arrived. They gave you the Choosing drug, then took you to the Great Hall and wanted you to bond with someone there."
Alexa put her fork down and stared at her food. Bastien guessed the memory was bad enough to affect her appetite.
"Drink." He poured tea into a delicate cup. "Savor your tea."
She did.
He drank too. The tea's flavor was something he'd never had—must be a special variety. He still wished he had ale.
"A bunch of nasty men attended the Choosing," Umilla continued, naming them. "No one nice, so of course Alexa didn't Choose or Pair."
More anger roiled in his gut. Not one of those men would treata woman well. Alexa had surmounted more obstacles than he'd realized, and he had only made her journey harder. Shame joined the anger. He reached for his own tea cup and took a swallow.
"But some good nobles have been taking her out lately." Umilla dished herself more dinfais.
Alexa's eyes met his, green and steady and wary. "A blood-bond is more important than just a sex bond, then? Will you want a blood-bond?"
His pulse roared in his ears. Such a huge step. "It might come naturally."
Her face lightened with curiosity. "How?"
"If we are fighting the same enemy and both bloody our hands at the same time and clasp hands—also a blood-bond."
She scrunched up her face and said a word he'd never heard. "Eeeeewwww."
He stared as she gulped more tea, then he ate a bite of vegetables and continued. "Or if we both get wounded and our blood mingles, another type of blood-bond."
"All those?" asked Umilla. "I didn't know that."
"The Binding, ritual blood-bond, where our veins are cut and our arms tied together for a day and a night for the blood to mingle and we say vows—that is the strongest."
"But you won't ask that of me." The words rushed from Alexa.
"No." He shouldn't have been disappointed at her sigh of relief since he didn't want such a bond, but he was.
For the rest of the meal, he kept the conversation light. Helped Umilla with the serving and clearing, judged the rhythm of the event, and finally spoke at the best time—after Alexa drained her first cup of tea.
"Walk and talk with me," he said.
"Where?"
"How about down to Castleton? I have a new chain-mail tunicwaiting for me at the blacksmith's that I told him I'd pick up tonight."
Alexa's brows rose. "Taking me away from the Castle?"
Bastien smiled easily. "That's right. We can talk about whatever you like."
She propped her elbow on the table and set her chin in her palm, studyi
ng him. "Interesting strategy," she said. "Talking. Instead of trying to remain here in my rooms and seduce me."
With his Power he kept the heat that wanted to redden his cheeks from showing. He took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. "We'll get to the seduction. Later tonight," he whispered. Her increased pulse made him smile. She didn't withdraw her hand so he nibbled her fingertips.
A moment later he stood, pulled her to her feet and tucked her hand in his arm. "Let's walk."
"All right."
Umilla hurried to the wardrobe and returned with Alexa's cloak. Bastien took it from her. Standing before Alexa, he draped it around her, touching her nape, her arms, even above her breasts. All the while he held her eyes. Shadows of hurt and caution and yearning showed in her gaze.
He ran a thumb over her cheekbone. "I won't hurt you again."
She stepped away coolly and leveled a serious gaze at him. "Don't promise what you can't deliver. I don't want—" She grimaced and shook her head, obviously frustrated with her lack of vocabulary.
"No bread crust promises, easily broken," Bastien said. Giving in to temptation, he closed his fingers over a handful of her hair. It was like holding silk, soft and tickling against his palm, not the heavier, coarser silver hair that most Lladranans had. "No bedroom promises, made at the height of sex and lasting no longer than the act."
Slowly, he tipped her head back and lowered his lips to hers, stopping just before they touched, enjoying her slight breath that brushed his lips. He closed his eyes and knew with Alexa he could weave each stroke of fingers, each touch, each kiss into the choreography of a formal dance, important and essential and perfect.
Umilla grunted and Bastien straightened.
"Let's go," Umilla said. She was dressed for the cool night too.
Narrowing his eyes, Bastien said, "You aren't invited." He hurried Alexa from her suite.
Umilla chanted a clean-up spell, then followed them. Bastien frowned as she joined them on the tower landing.
"I will visit my friend Crin. He's the farrier for the Castle," Umilla announced with pride.
"Go, Umilla." Alexa grinned.
The serving woman patted Alexa's shoulder. "Black-and-whites are excellent lovers. It's the energy fluctuations. You are in good hands with Bastien. The feycoocu trusts him too." She hurried down the stairs.
Alexa looked up at Bastien. "What's a 'farrier'?"
"Fa-ri-er," he pronounced. "A person who makes shoes for horses and volarans."
"Thank you. You don't make me feel stupid when I ask questions. That's good." Her expression turned serious. "You must promise to be honest. You didn't, before."
19
Bastien took both her hands in his own, enveloping them, warming them, liking the tune that hummed between them with layers of budding friendship, heating passion. He stared down into her eyes.
"I promise."
More harmony was added to the melody between them. They both shivered.
He kept her close as they descended the stairs from her tower. "I want you. All the time I've been apart, I've wanted you. More than just sex. More than the notes that tied us when you cleared my flaw." He led her into the yard and down the paved walk. "More than the bass rhythm that rolled between us since you saved my life."
She caught her breath, glanced at him.
"I remember," he said. "Your beautiful eyes. The strength of your will. Your unusual Power. It was like a dream for a while,but then I found the stream of notes between us and knew the experience had been real. Even then, I thought more about you than any other woman in my life."
They walked down Temple Ward and through the gate to the Lower Ward. Bastien gestured to the right where Horseshoe Close and Hall was reached through a short passage about three horses wide.
Alexa strode over to the alley and peered down it. "It's interesting." She sighed. "I've been here more than a month and still haven't explored all the Castle, let alone Castleton."
Bastien squeezed her hand. "Tell me."
"You won't laugh?"
"You're an Exotique, strange to all of Lladrana. I'm a black-and-white, never fully accepted either. We are both seen as...different." He meant what he said.
"Not worse. Not lower. Just different," she said.
"Yes."
"I doubt that I can do what the Marshalls and Chevaliers have Summoned me here to do."
"And that is?"
She laughed shortly. "Defend Lladrana. Find the way to make new fenceposts, mend and rePower the boundaries so Lladrana has secure borders again. Maybe even kill all the monsters. I don't know. I think they expect everything of me."
He drew her close to his body, until their clothes brushed and they shared their heat. Since she didn't meet his gaze, he spoke to the top of her head. "I don't expect anything of you."
Alexa stepped away, face remote again, and he hated it.
"Wrong," she said. "You expect me to be your lover, your Pair, to be of use in your angry one-upmanship with your father and the other Marshalls."
"No!" He framed her face in his hands, tilted it upward tomeet his gaze. "I won't deny that there will be times that I will goad my father. I'm human, and if I were to promise you I'd never spur him, I'd lie, because I know my emotions will carry me away now and again. And I'll tell you that I will prod the Marshalls to change, but I think you want that too. We can work together on that. We can be together, work together. That's what a Pair bond is."
Her gaze examined his face, her mind touched his, explored—she felt his emotions, his desire for her, to live with her. To be with her.
She smiled, stood on tiptoe to brush his lips. "We can try."
Huge, giddy relief washed through him. He kept her right hand and urged her through the lower gate and down the path to Castleton.
They didn't talk, but there wasn't silence between them. Their Song bloomed and grew, twined around them, connected them. The melody was rich and varied, with lilting measures as well as crashing chords. Already they'd shared life-altering experiences, already they were journeying on a path together. Bastien intended that journey to be long and sweet. And full of grace.
Since he wanted only her company, and wanted her in bed as soon as possible, Bastien took the shortcut to the armorer and kept the transaction brief. From the interested look in the man's eyes when he saw Alexa, Bastien judged the tale of their training combat had reached the town and he'd just given the man a new installment in a good story.
When they left, he carried his mail under his arm. Alexa took very little steps. He'd shortened his stride to match hers, but the rippling desire inside him mounted each moment and the path to the Castle had never felt so long.
They were just out of the town gates when they were hailed. "Marshall, Chevalier Vauxveau!"
Bastien cursed under his breath and Alexa smiled, sensing his impatience. She really didn't want this peaceful time between them to end either.
She turned to see a young man about the age of Urvey, but with an air of confidence and a healthier aspect, hurry toward them.
He bowed. "Will you come with me, please?"
Bastien's hand slipped up to her elbow, and he bent in a gesture both courteous and protective. Some sort of guy-body-language that had an intrigued gleam showing in the teen's eyes.
"He's the journeyman of Sevair Masif, a Guildmaster of the Town."
She recalled Masif, the man who had interrupted the Marshalls at the Nom de Nom. He'd taken a jerir bath, and he'd destroyed the Mockers.
Bastien had already begun following the youth. "Masif is a good man. Smart."
"I agree."
Bastien scowled. "You've met him?"
Alexa lifted her chin. "He brought me tea." Or arranged for the Trademaster to deliver it. "He's young and personable."
More muttering from Bastien, then he pasted on a smile and said, "A good friend to the Chevaliers."
"In what way?" Alexa asked.
A faint smile curved Bastien's lips. "He kee
ps us apprised of what's going on in the Town and whatever he learns is happening in the Castle—with a different perspective. Also, when there are disputes between townsfolk and the Chevaliers, he usually is one of the calm heads on the side of the townspeople that prevails. He's an arbitrator."
"You must know him well, then."
Bastien laughed. "Are you hinting that I might have been in a brawl or two?"
"Would you rather I say it straight out? And how many brawls have you been in? How many times hauled before an arbitrator?"
He shrugged. "I can't recall. Masif is a friend of my brother's too."
Alexa got the idea from Bastien's tone that the Guildmaster was not a friend of Reynardus's. "He doesn't see eye to eye with your father?"
"Let's say that he is a forward-thinking man, one willing to explore new ideas, like most Chevaliers and Citymasters, and unlike the Marshalls who are stuck in old mind-sets."
"Hmm," Alexa said. She was still figuring out what might be traditional and customary and what was considered breathtakingly innovative.
They turned a corner into a square that was rimmed with lampposts consisting of large glowing crystals atop metal poles. The neighborhood seemed to be prosperous, maybe even more than upper middle-class, maybe rich. The houses were all three stories, made of stone, and some had bay windows. Each door was painted a different color.
As she recalled, Masif seemed to be in his early thirties—young like Luthan and Bastien to have such responsibilities and status. A definite contrast in age to the Marshalls, who all seemed to be sixty or older. She supposed age and wealth and Power—magical and monetary—clustered together here in Lladrana as often as they did on Earth.
"He's a stonemason?" she asked as they walked along the square. A large, green park was in the center, with trees blossoming, including a copse of brithenwood. The scent was heady, yet comforting.
"More, he's a brilliant architect. If you have any Exotique ideas about building on to your home, he'd be a good one to see. Like I said, a man willing to think in new ways."
As always, the mention of her house made a warmth bloom inside her. She had a home. Land. She was making a place for herself here.
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