by Cheree Alsop
His laugh roughened the edges of my composure. I was an animal, and despite the reflection in the mirror, that was what I would continue to be. I walked to the door and put a hand on the doorknob.
“Keeper, where are you going?”
Rasmus’ cautious tone made me turn. His brow was lined as if he guessed my thoughts.
“Probably away from this room,” Joven said. “It’s a bit stifling in here, isn’t it? It couldn’t hurt to brush up a bit on etiquette while we’re at it, anyway.”
He led the way out and I followed him. My thoughts raced. I hadn’t known the answer to Rasmus’ question. I had been without my freedom for so long that turning a doorknob and leaving on my own should have been intimidating. I wondered if it was the clothes, the upcoming ball, or Master Muir’s ministrations that created such a whirlwind of chaos to make me forget my place. The problem was that I didn’t know my place, exactly.
When I followed Joven into the ballroom and saw Koya standing there, all thoughts left my mind. She had her back to us, her long golden hair free of its circlet and brushing across her back. She wore a green evening wrap over a pale blue sleeping gown as though she had been dragged from bed to assist with the decorations. Her feet were slippered in green silk and she looked as though she floated gracefully over the polished marble floor as she directed servants in the placement of a silk banner on the wall that showed the Vielkeep symbol of a black hawk with a torch in its claws.
“It would be better near the head of the table,” a woman who looked like an older version of Koya said with a click of her tongue. Despite the late hour, the woman wore a long peach-colored dress with a train that required two serving girls to follow her and make sure it didn’t get tangled underfoot.
Koya gave a quiet sigh and nodded to the servants fitting the banner. They scrambled down to reposition it. Koya turned away and her eyes fell on our group. Her forehead creased slightly when her gaze met mine, then her eyes widened and her mouth opened. My heart climbed into my throat and I couldn’t bring myself to walk toward her. Joven and Rasmus continued into the room oblivious of the way Koya’s eyes held mine.
I felt rooted to the marble floor. Koya walked toward me with such grace I swore her feet didn’t touch the ground. Where her blue eyes had looked tired before, now they were bright and searching, curious and warm. I felt as though I fell into the blue sky.
She reached me sooner than I realized and stood watching me with a slight crease on either side of her lips as though she held in a smile she didn’t think I was ready for. Her eyebrows lowered thoughtfully. “Are you really our keeper of the wolves, or an imposter?” she asked softly with a hint of teasing in her tone.
Warmth brushed across my cheeks. An imposter either way, I thought, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words aloud. Her hand lifted of its own accord and touched my cheek as though she couldn’t help herself. I had to fight my wolf instincts that wanted to shy away from her touch. Instead, I held still, barely able to breathe as her fingers brushed stubble that hadn’t been there before, another human characteristic I would have to learn to deal with. “You might want to shave before the ball,” she said quietly.
My cheek seared with the heat of her touch and my heart thundered so hard I thought she would hear it. I lowered my eyes and spoke carefully, “Y-yes, my lady.” My voice was rough and gravely from lack of use, severely missing the eloquence and finesse of Joven’s fine speech.
She withdrew her hand as though she had been burned and stared at me. “Keeper, I-”
I shook my head and she paused. I swallowed and tried to form the word that made my wolven name. It refused to come out properly. I took a breath and closed my eyes, then said, “Victus.”
I opened my eyes to find her watching me, her face awash in a soft glow as if I had just given her a gift. “Your name is Victus,” she repeated. My heart leaped at the way her mouth formed the syllables of my name, soft and tentative as though she was afraid of saying it wrong. “Victus,” she said again. “What does it mean?”
I studied the floor at our feet, remembering. “It’s old tongue . . . before the animals spoke. It means . . . survivor of two worlds.” I was amazed at how quickly speech came to me. The words flowed as if they made sense even though my mind still struggled to keep up. I felt the meaning of the sentences before I knew the shape of the syllables. I glanced at her hand, wondering what it was about her touch that made me more human.
“It’s a beautiful name,” she said, but her gaze was troubled as she searched my face.
I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but Joven’s cedar scent alerted me that he was approaching. I looked up and found both he and Rasmus watching us with great interest. “What’s beautiful?” Joven asked.
“His name; it’s Victus,” Koya replied. A slight blush colored her cheeks and she dropped her gaze as if embarrassed by something. I would have asked her what caused such a bother, but then she smiled at her brother and waved a hand to indicate the room. “We’ve much to do according to Mother.”
Joven gave one of his perfected sighs. “If Mother had her way, the entire castle would be pink and the servants would wear mirrors so she could make sure her hair didn’t have a single strand out of place.”
Rasmus gave him a flat look. “You might appreciate one at the moment, my Lord.”
Joven put a hand to his perfectly combed hair; dismay washed across his face. “I shall return shortly.” He rushed from the room.
“Well done, General,” Koya said with a pleased smile. “Shall I assume you’re here to help Mother pick out the perfect arrangement for Cook Tamus’ masterpieces?”
“I apologize, my lady,” he said with a smile that twisted the scar down his lip and didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “Joven asked for an update on the Viel and now I’d best return to the gate to see that my men are ready for our guests.”
“Thank you, Rasmus,” she replied. He bowed and walked toward the doors that led from the ballroom. A shadow swept across Koya’s face and she hurried after him, “General?” He turned and she closed the remaining steps between them. “What is the status of the Viel?” she asked quietly. My wolven hearing picked up their words, but they spoke softly enough no one else in the room heard them.
Rasmus glanced around, then replied in a troubled tone, “More of them are breaking through the lines. The Valley Guardians say they are amassing in the mountains outside Rala valley. I worry they are preparing to attack.”
“Why?” Koya asked, her face pale.
“To take back what they feel is theirs.”
“We’ve lived here without a quarrel since the founding battle,” Koya said.
Rasmus shook his head. “I know your father’s views of Rala’s ownership of the valley were unwavering, but the Duke’s history left out the Valley Guardians’ continued skirmishes to keep the Viel at bay. Without their efforts, we would have been overrun long ago.” His brows drew together. “But I fear there may be more than we’ve accounted for,” he said in a musing tone as if speaking to himself.
At Koya’s troubled look, he realized he had spoken the words aloud. He shook his head and gave her a small smile. “Now my Lady, don’t worry yourself over matters of the guard. I shouldn’t trouble you with the details. We have the safety of Vielkeep as our highest priority. It looks like you have pressing matters to attend to.” He gave a pointed look to where the Duchess was running servants around in a frantic haste to straighten napkins that had already been straightened twice.
Koya’s brow creased with worry. “Is the Gathering Ball ill-timed with the Viel so volatile?”
The General smiled reassuringly. “The Vielkeep soldiers are well-equipped to handle the threat should one arise. We’ll be ready, I promise.”
She nodded and he turned away with another bow just as Joven came back through the door. He shot Rasmus an irritated look and followed Koya back to me.
“That was unnecessary,” he said.
“He’s
just giving you a hard time. You may have rushed out a bit more quickly than a hair emergency called for,” Koya teased.
He rolled his eyes and turned to me. “We need to return to business. You don’t have to worry about dancing, but it will be expected that we have instructed the ambassador in a few of the more delicate social protocols.”
“By protocols, you mean peculiarities,” Koya pointed out.
Joven chuckled. “You’re on a tangent today, sister. What’s gotten you so worked up?”
“I just spoke to Rasmus about the Viel. I’m a bit distracted,” she said. Her eyes drifted to the door and I found myself agreeing with the want to leave the room. I felt way out of my element amid roses and silk, polished floors and rushing servants.
“Our guests will be arriving tomorrow,” Joven pointed out. “If we don’t go over this tonight, Keeper, or Victus, will be out of his element.” He shot me an interested look. “If you were a wolf, how did you have a name? Or do all wolves have names?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder what my wolf name would be.”
“Joven, focus,” Koya said with a laugh.
He grinned and I realized he had been trying to lighten the mood. Amazement at how easily he had accomplished his goal filled me. I wondered if I would ever be fluent enough to draw such a light-hearted laugh from Koya.
“Focus, right.” Joven cleared his throat and brought his ankles together dramatically. “As an ambassador, you will be expected to bow at the nobility. There are various levels of social standing that dictate different bows of respect. Allow me to demonstrate.” A smile tugged at my lips at his first very low bow. “This,” he said, turning his head to address me while still in the bow. “Is appropriate for the Lords and Ladies, also known as the Heirs who will inherit the five duchies. You could bow to Koya and I, but because you are our guest, that is not necessary.” He stumbled forward and caught himself against a table before he fell over. He rose and put a hand to his head. “Now I know why talking and bowing at the same time isn’t part of the protocol.”
Koya smiled. “Don’t put too much pressure on your brain, Joven. There’s not much to work with.”
“Haha,” her brother replied dryly. He straightened his jacket and brought his heels together again. “Now pay attention,” he said with a mock-serious look. “This is the bow for the Dukes and Duchesses of the duchies.” He bowed so low his hair brushed the polished floor and his cravat fell forward to sprawl across his face. He tried to blow it out of the way, but it fell back into his face as he addressed us from the ridiculous position, “If you can smell the polish on his Dukeship’s shoes, you know you’re bowing low enough.”
Koya laughed. “You are utterly ridiculous. I don’t think anyone is learning anything besides how much of a fool a Lord can make of himself to entertain others.”
“Quite right,” Joven agreed. He stood back up with a red face and tucked his cravat in once more. He then took an inordinate amount of time straightening his hair and the golden circlet around his forehead. He glanced at me as he smoothed his collar. “Can’t be spotted in disarray around the ladies,” he said. He winked at the serving maid who was setting the table next to us; the girl giggled and upended the stack of plates she was carrying.
I caught the four that fell before they could hit the floor and shatter. I felt their stares on me when I set the plates back on top of the girl’s pile.
“Th-thank you, Sire,” she said with a furious blush coloring her cheeks.
“Minstra, remember your betters,” a skinny woman with only one arm called from across the floor.
The girl gave a quick bow and hurried away.
“Huh,” Joven said with an amused expression. “I guess I needn’t demonstrate the appropriate bow for a hurried departure.” Koya rolled her eyes, but he ignored her and looked at me. “Do plates fall often in the wild? Because you’ve got a knack for catching them. You probably just saved that girl a lashing.”
A shudder ran up my spine with the memory of lashings at the hands of the Cruel One. I gritted my teeth and turned away.
“Quite right,” Joven agreed even though I hadn’t said anything. “It’s late and you can only bow so many times before the floor begins to look comfortable enough under such close observation that you are willing to sleep on it. I will catch you two in the morning.” He spun on his heels with a flourish that made his coattails flair out and marched back across the ballroom loudly enough that his footsteps echoed off the walls. Servants bowed or bid him farewell with respect, while the maid in the corner who had been reprimanded blushed prettily when he passed. I could only assume he winked at her with his confident, casual air. I wondered how one became so comfortable around women. They confused me to no end.
I looked at Koya, suddenly reminded of my new station of protector while she slept. She watched Joven’s retreating back with a look of fond frustration, her usual expression when she observed her brother. “I’m surprised he didn’t show you the appropriate bow for excusing oneself to use the necessities,” she said in an unusual tone.
I noted the deepened lines around her eyes and her suppressed smile and realized she was teasing me. The thought sent a warm rush through my body. “Is there such a bow?”
She gave a feminine grimace and a laugh escaped her. “It would be much too vulgar, I’m sure. Joven would love it and probably use it at the most inappropriate times.”
“I shall consider myself grateful he didn’t show it to me, then.” I replied.
She laughed again and glanced at me. “Victus, did you just make a joke?”
I smiled and hers deepened, showing her straight, pretty teeth.
Chapter 10
“Why did you tell me your name?” Koya asked.
She was in her bed and I stood near the window in the sitting room. Her door was open between the two because she said she felt safer that way. She acted as though the assassin’s attack and the presence of the Viel didn’t bother her, but it was the little things that showed how badly she had been shaken. She kept glancing at the windows and kept her hands firmly together so they wouldn’t betray her. There was a slight hint of steel in the air that gave away the knife she concealed within her wrap. I pretended not to notice, but doubled my vigil to keep her safe so she wouldn’t have to go through such things again.
I glanced toward her room, then outside again at the moonlight bathed world below the castle. Something gripped my throat, a shadow of fear at telling her the truth. I had never felt such hesitancy before. Wolves lived in the truth. There was nothing to hide and nothing to fear through living it. Yet I feared telling her what an impact she’d had in my life because it could change things, and for the first time in my life, I feared change.
I swallowed against the tightness and took a steeling breath. “Before I met you, I couldn’t understand what humans said.”
The admission was quiet. Her movements stilled in her room for a moment, followed by the soft rustle of her footsteps as she crossed to the door. I didn’t turn around. I was afraid that seeing her there would close off the truth I wanted to release from my chest.
“What do you mean?” she asked quietly.
I put a hand to the cool window and traced the wavy lines that marked the pane like the wings of a butterfly. “You cut yourself on the glass you pulled from my paw that day.” I frowned at the pane beneath my fingers. “Only after your blood mixed with mine was I able to understand what you said.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She took several steps into the room, but I kept my face averted. “What I’m trying to say,” I swallowed again but the tight sensation refused to let up. I continued in a whisper, “I am only an animal made by some unknown, infuriating force to impersonate a human. I am a stranger in this body.” I clenched my hand into a fist and willed the burning in my eyes to keep at bay. I heard her draw closer and closed my eyes. “I wanted to thank you for trusting a beast.”
I felt her even as I heard her cross the remaining spac
e between us. Her warmth and gentleness pressed against my body and a tremble ran down my limbs. Her fingers touched my closed fist. I opened my eyes in surprise at the jolt that ran up my arm. I turned to find her face a few inches lower than mine. Her blue eyes took me in completely. She accepted me for who I was. Despite the craziness of a world where I had been taken away from anything familiar and turned into something my soul was never meant to be, she accepted me. Her gaze held peace even though I couldn’t find the peace in myself.
The burning returned to my eyes and a tear escaped despite my efforts to keep it away. I closed my eyes, ashamed.
“Victus,” she whispered. My heart surged at the way she said my name, familiar and so gently I felt my heart would break.
Soft fingers brushed away the tear on my cheek, then her lips pressed against mine. I opened my eyes at the surge of warmth that filled my body. She kissed me with her eyes closed, her lips soft against mine, her hand warm against my cheek. I returned the kiss, an unfamiliar action that made my heart race and breathing slow. When she stepped back, I felt more human than ever before. It was as though the wolf side was content to rest and let my human side truly live.
She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I. . .” I tried to think of what I wanted to say. I gave her a half smile. “I enjoyed it.”
Koya gave a soft laugh, her eyes searching mine. “You did?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
She watched me quietly with questions in her gaze that I didn’t know how to answer. This time she was the one who turned to the window. “It was your eyes,” she said.
I waited quietly, but when she didn’t continue, I asked, “My eyes?”
She put her hand on the glass where my faint print resided. “I knew you weren’t a monster by your eyes. They held human emotions even when you were a wolf.”