He tore his gaze from Flavian’s body, forcing it up to Flavian’s face and found him frowning. Cathal stood and went to Flavian. Taking his hands, Cathal said, “You look wonderful.”
“Thank you.” The frown smoothed out, but there was still a suspicion in Flavian’s eyes Cathal didn’t like.
He leaned down and took Flavian’s mouth in a long, gentle kiss. But he got more lost in the kiss and Flavian’s soft lips than he planned. It only ended when Flavian gasped and stepped back.
“Stop it.” Flavian leaned a little to look around Cathal and then glared at him.
Cathal glanced over his shoulder. Philip and Amory stood close together, very pointedly not looking at him and Flavian. “It doesn’t matter. They don’t care.”
“It does. I haven’t even greeted them,” Flavian said in a furious whisper. “I’m a guest here, and I’m lucky I’m not in prison.”
“No one is going to put you in prison.” He wanted to tell Flavian that he wasn’t a guest either, that Philip and Amory considered him family, but he didn’t want to scare Flavian.
“We really aren’t,” Philip said from across the room. “Come in, Flavian. Have a drink.”
Flavian sent Cathal one more glare before stepping around him to bow to Philip and Amory and accept the offered drink.
Flavian’s annoyance didn’t last long. After a pleasant dinner, Cathal and Flavian left together and walked in companionable silence through the corridors toward their suites. Flavian had been moved to a smaller suite that was also closer to Cathal’s than his old one had been. Cathal could not believe that was a coincidence. Not that he minded. He would have asked Flavian to move into his suite with him, but he worried Flavian wouldn’t accept. Flavian still hadn’t given Cathal an answer to the question he’d asked before the revelations about Velia.
But Flavian walked easily at his side, so close their arms brushed as they moved and Cathal could feel the heat of Flavian’s body even through their clothes. And even without talking it was the best part of Cathal’s day.
Flavian stopped when they came to his door. Disappointment dragged at Cathal; he hadn’t had enough time with Flavian that day. He didn’t want the night to end yet.
But before he could say anything, Flavian asked, “Do you want to come inside?”
Cathal smiled. “Yes.”
Chapter 24
TO AMORY’S credit, he did not ask Philip if Philip was sure he wanted to see his uncle. Amory just said he would go with Philip. Philip didn’t want to see Umber and wouldn’t if he didn’t have to, but having Amory there would make the visit bearable. And Philip knew Amory was aware of those things, and he was grateful, not for the first time, for Amory’s understanding and his presence.
Since Umber had been confined to a small set of rooms in his house, he’d refused to speak to anyone, except to demand he be released and proclaim how he insulted he was. Marcus, a perpetually calm man, had been visibly frustrated after several attempts at questioning Umber. That was when Philip realized he was going to have to speak with Umber himself.
He and Amory rode to Umber’s home in the morning with their guards surrounding them. Amory waved and smiled when people on the streets called out to them. Philip only managed a nod here or there as he thought about what to do with Umber. He hadn’t asked Marcus to go with them. Only time would tell him if that had been the correct decision. Philip hoped Umber would speak to him where he wouldn’t speak to someone of lower rank that he thought beneath him, though Umber did not have a good opinion of his nephew. But perhaps respect for the crown prince would trump Umber’s personal feelings about Philip.
At the house, Philip and Amory dismounted in the courtyard and strode inside. Aunt Helena and Meriall hurried into the entrance hall just as he and Amory came through the door. Both women stopped to drop into curtsies.
“Good morning, Aunt Helena, Meriall,” Philip said. Amory echoed his greetings.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” Aunt Helena said as she rose from her curtsy. “Are you here to free my husband?”
“We’re here to talk to him.”
“I still don’t understand why you need to imprison him or question him at all. What has he done wrong?” She clutched at her bewildered daughter’s hand while she glanced between Philip and Amory.
“We need to speak with him because the woman he betrothed your oldest son to and her uncle are spies sent by Ardunn, and we need information,” Philip said, though he had explained it all back in his office when Helena was first made aware of Umber’s confinement. “I need to know how the betrothal came about, what was discussed with the emperor’s representatives—two things Umber has yet to tell me. And I need to know what he told Willem since they arrived. Umber spent an awful lot of time with the man, and I need to know everything I can.”
“I know you disagree with many things Umber said about your marriage. But you can’t possibly believe my husband is a spy.”
“I hope you aren’t implying that I would do this to Umber for any reason other than my concern for the safety and security of Tournai and its people. I certainly wouldn’t choose to unfairly punish a man because of his opinion of my marriage.” He heard Amory make a little sound behind him, but he didn’t turn to look. He would have been within his rights to do something to Umber for the vitriol he had spewed when Philip betrothed himself to Amory, but he had chosen not to censure his uncle. He wondered if that had been a mistake.
“I know you wouldn’t, Your Highness.” Aunt Helena glanced away. “The guards won’t let us in. When will we be able to see him?”
“After this is resolved.”
“But, I don’t understand why we can’t see him! You already have him confined.”
“And the spies are imprisoned in far less comfortable surroundings. Be grateful I’ve give his position and family consideration,” Philip said, trying to keep his voice even. His aunt was only expressing her worry, if doing it poorly. “We need to speak with him now.”
“Do you know where he’s being kept or shall I show you?” Aunt Helena asked, her voice cold.
Philip bit back a sigh. His aunt had never been a cold person, but he couldn’t imagine how Umber’s confinement was affecting her. “I know the way.”
Aunt Helena nodded and stepped aside, and Philip walked past her without another word. Very little could be said to Helena at that moment, perhaps nothing that would make a difference. He could do nothing about it.
He led Amory through the house. It was Amory’s first time in anything except the ballroom, and Philip couldn’t help wondering what he thought. Philip had always found the house almost coldly formal, the inner courtyard garden the only part Philip had fond memories of and that only because it was the place he and his cousins had played as young children.
He walked through the garden since it was the most direct path to where Umber had been confined—a small set of rooms in the back corner of an upper floor. For a moment he let himself remember playing in the courtyard garden with Cathal, Vrai, and Etan, chasing each other along the paths and around the statues, sometimes as boys, sometimes using their Talents. Then, as he led Amory back into the house and up the slick marble risers of the back stairs, he let those memories go.
Amory walked closely at his side, letting their arms and fingers brush as they walked, but otherwise he did nothing, just let Philip lead him where they needed to go. As they reached the top of the stairs, he briefly tangled his fingers with Amory’s. He glanced sideways and saw his husband smile. Fortified, he let his fingers slip from Amory’s as they approached the door guarded by two royal guards. The guards bowed to him and Amory.
“Anything to report?” Philip asked the guards.
“When we brought in the duke’s breakfast, His Grace once again demanded we release him. Her Grace and Lady Ottilie have both come here, asking to see the duke.”
Philip nodded. “Thank you, guardsman. You can let us in now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Amory stood, steady and supportive, at his side as they waited for the guard to unlock the door. Just Amory’s presence calmed Philip. He had no illusions that the coming conversation wouldn’t be difficult. His relationship with his uncle had deteriorated beyond all recognition when Philip and Amory married—but if he looked at it honestly, he could see indications of trouble long before that, every time Philip asserted his independence—and Philip had just about given up hope of it ever getting better. He hated to imagine what Father would have thought of Philip’s relationship with Umber.
When the guard opened the door and stepped back, Philip walked in without showing a trace of the hesitancy he felt, Amory a step behind him. Umber stood at the window in the small sitting room—small but cozy and well appointed, as Philip would have expected from a guest suite in Umber’s home, though he’d never stayed in one himself. Umber must have heard the door open, but he didn’t turn when Philip and Amory walked in. An expression of power or disgruntlement, or both. And not one that Philip felt like indulging.
He waited.
It seemed like hours passed as he waited for Umber to acknowledge his presence, but it was certainly only moments before Umber turned from the window and bowed. Grudgingly, if a bow could be grudging.
“Your Highness,” Umber said as he straightened.
Umber was dressed for the day as if he planned to go to court. Philip was a bit surprised he even had such formal clothing with him.
“Uncle,” Philip responded. Amory greeted Umber as well, but Umber didn’t respond with more than a curt nod. Philip had thought Umber’s attitude toward Amory might change after Julien was born, but it hadn’t.
“Have you come to apologize for this farce and allow me to return to my home and life?”
“No, I haven’t.”
Red suffused Umber’s face. “This ridiculousness must end. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but put a stop to it now.”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Uncle. We have apprehended spies from Ardunn both in the city and in the palace. The woman you betrothed Cathal to is an Ardunnian spy, sent here to ferret out information about Tournai and our family and to do everything in her power to grow her influence with the family and therefore the government. Do you see the problem we have? Now is not the time to play stupid.”
Umber remained silent, but his face became redder, almost purple, his expression more closed and stubborn.
“At least now I know why Ardunn was so eager to make a betrothal agreement. Even with only your vague assurances, they got what they wanted just with the opportunity to position their agents within the palace.” They’d finally found the betrothal agreements in a thorough search of Umber’s papers, and Philip had seen nothing out of the ordinary, except for the vagueness of Umber’s promises. Which made sense, since Umber had no real authority to promise anything. Ardunn’s acceptance of the terms made sense too, if the emperor just wanted to get Velia in. He’d hoped to find correspondence too, something to tell him what prompted the idea, but they’d found nothing of the kind. Philip stared his uncle down, not that Umber seemed in any way intimidated. “It isn’t a game, Uncle. This isn’t a way for me to put you down. Your refusal to talk about what you know is troubling and makes a difficult situation even more so.”
“You cannot possibly think I’m a traitor to this country,” Umber thundered out. “I wouldn’t have thought you that stupid.”
Amory stiffened next to Philip but said nothing, for which Philip was grateful.
“I wouldn’t have thought you a traitor,” Philip said. He’d been very careful, in fact, not to say anything about Umber’s treasonous activities in just arranging the betrothal, because he didn’t want to have to follow through with the punishment that would usually follow treason, not for his uncle. Unfortunately, he was coming to the realization that something would have to be done about Umber, as much as it would pain Philip. “But your refusal to speak to anyone makes us all suspicious. It also obstructs our ability to ascertain what the spies know and if there are more of them. It makes it more difficult for us to protect Tournai and its people, which you profess to love so much.”
“I made this betrothal for Tournai, to strengthen our country and our family, something you failed to do. I do love this country, which is more than I can say for you.” Umber’s words dripped with disdain.
“Enough,” Philip said, his words sharp. “We need to know how the betrothal came about, and we need to know about your interactions with Velia, Willem, and Zelina. You will tell us what we need to know. And until you do, we will not even consider freeing you from this confinement.”
Umber was silent once more.
“Think about it,” Philip said and strode from the room.
FLAVIAN COULD see no good coming from his trip today, but still, he felt the obligation to go keenly. Prince Philip had been reluctant to allow it, but he had finally decided it wouldn’t hinder their investigation. Even so, the prince tried to persuade Flavian it was the bad idea Flavian knew it was. When that didn’t change Flavian’s mind, Prince Philip sent an escort with Flavian to the prison where Velia was being held.
A man who introduced himself as Marcus led Flavian to a small, windowless room with stone walls. Its only furnishings were a table and several chairs. While it wasn’t a comfortable room by any means, it wasn’t a torture chamber. Still, it was a prison, and Flavian couldn’t help imagining himself in such a room, or worse, if he’d been taken back to Ardunn. He shuddered.
He was still thinking about it when guards led Velia into the room. To his relief, she didn’t look ill-treated. She was wearing one of her own gowns, but she had on no cosmetics or jewelry, and her hair was pulled back in a long tail, the most simply he had ever seen it dressed. She was quite obviously trying to maintain her usual standards of appearance in a place that made that impossible.
When she saw him, surprise and happiness and suspicion washed over her face in quick succession, sweeping away the blank mask she’d worn when she walked inside. She took the chair the guards directed her to and sat silently as they left the room, leaving Flavian alone with Velia. By the time the door closed behind Marcus, her mask was firmly back in place.
“Velia.”
“Flavian.” She looked him over. “You’re back to being Flavian, I see.”
“Yes.” He tried to see what she was thinking, but he could tell nothing from her face. Actually he’d seldom ever been able to, but that made sense now.
“Did they find out when they took you into custody? I worried about you, about them finding out and sending you back.” She watched him closely too. “Or did you tell them? Perhaps when you told them about me?”
Her voice was whip sharp and cold, and he fought not to flinch. But he wouldn’t lie. “They found out, but not when I told them about your spying.”
“I can’t believe you would do that, betray my trust like that, after all I’ve done for you. Keeping your secret and helping you leave Ardunn and warning you about the emperor. And you betray me and our friendship.”
“And you? Implying that I might be the spy, not you? Throwing me to the wolves to save yourself—how is that not a betrayal?” He snapped out the question, breaking his promise to himself that he would remain calm.
“I would never do something like that to you, Flavian.” She leaned forward, imploring him to believe her with wide, innocent eyes.
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course not,” she said.
He slapped his hands down on the table and leaned toward her in turn. “Don’t lie to me. The time for lying between us is long over.”
“Who’s been telling you these lies?” she asked. “Just to turn you against me, I’m sure. What have they promised you that you would believe them, that you would tell them about me?”
“Enough. No one has promised me anything. I didn’t need them to. You’re a spy, Velia. You’re spying for Ardunn.”
“
Yes, I am.” Her words were matter of fact. “I’m loyal to the empire. I’m doing my duty to my country.”
“And I’m doing the same for mine.” He hadn’t completely realized it, not until that moment, but Tournai had become his country, and he would protect it. And protect Cathal with it.
She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. “And is it just Tournai that has your loyalty? Or is it something else? Someone else.”
“Velia.”
“No, it isn’t me. You’ve gotten far closer to Cathal than I’d thought possible—far closer than I managed, which was quite vexing. I would have soon married him, so I’m sure I could have gotten closer eventually.”
“I doubt it.” He kicked himself for saying it, for letting her have that knowledge, despite that not long ago he’d felt obligated to tell Velia about Cathal and him.
“Oh, so that’s how things are.” She sat back in her chair, some of her pretenses dropping away. “I have to admit I’m surprised. I didn’t realize Cathal had any interest in men, and he has to know you’re a man by now.”
“He does.”
She lifted one elegant eyebrow. “So vehement. You have feelings for him. That’s surprising as well. You shouldn’t love him.”
“You don’t get an opinion on the matter.”
“Maybe I don’t, at least not now, but I will give you a warning. He won’t stay with you. He’s had many affairs with beautiful, charming women—you think I didn’t know? I made it my business to find out. I know who and when. I had to. But those affairs never lasted. There was always another beautiful, charming woman—or man, I suppose. There are plenty of those too for him to choose from. And why wouldn’t he? What makes you think you’re so special that he would keep you?”
“Velia, stop.”
“No, you need to hear it, and I’m going to tell you, because we were friends for a long time before this and I care about you still. You need to know how this will go, because you need to protect yourself. Because even if he does want you and only you, he’s a duke’s heir. He has to marry, if not me then someone else. Someone like me, because his father is ambitious. He wants an advantageous marriage, not just a suitable one. How do you think I got here?”
The Artist’s Masquerade Page 31