The Exile's Curse

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The Exile's Curse Page 12

by M. J. Scott


  "See, nothing to worry about," Giane said, climbing back down from the bunk. She walked over to the window and peered out, one hand fiddling with the long braid that hung down the back of her uniform. "Come and see."

  "I'm fine," Chloe said. Better to take some time to get used to the thought of all that empty air beneath her before she actually saw it.

  "You don't like heights?" Giane inquired, turning back.

  "I'm not sure. I've rarely had to deal with them."

  "You never climbed the Raven Tower at the Academe?"

  "The Raven Tower is slightly less than fifty feet. And it's solid. And there are quite substantial parapets preventing one from falling off the edge." She'd never considered the Raven Tower to be too high, that much was true. So maybe it wasn't so much the height but the lack of anything between the navire and the ground far below that was so unsettling. But it was another thing she would get used to.

  "The navire has railings," Giane said with a smile. "And if it gets rough, there's a harness and rope system. No one's fallen over the side yet." Her expression softened. "Sorry, I won't tease you. At least you're not puking like the last lieutenant I shared with. That wasn't fun. Of course, the weather was rougher, but still...."

  Chloe didn't want to think too hard about puking. So far her stomach seemed untroubled, and she hoped it would remain so. It wouldn't do to be “the new lieutenant who vomited all the way across the empire.” That wouldn't convince anyone who was already skeptical about her being included on this mission that she was qualified to be here. "I'm feeling fine. It doesn't bother you?"

  Giane shook her head. "Not so far. And my head no longer hurts after that bloody reveille, at least." She shivered. "I'm not sure I'll get used to that any time soon."

  Chloe nodded in sympathy. "Me either. But it's part of the job. And I have teas and things if your head bothers you again. Or your stomach." Giane was a blood mage with some skill in water as well, judging by the black streaks in her brown hair, but there was no hint of red to indicate any strength in earth.

  "Earth witches are handy that way," Giane said, smiling again. She peered out the window again. "Are you sure you don't want to look?"

  "Where was your last mission?" Chloe asked, firmly changing the subject. If they were to be bunkmates for days, they might as well get to know each other a little.

  "The Faithless Isles," Giane replied. "Somewhat warmer than where we're headed now."

  "Just about everywhere in the empire is warmer than Andalyssia," Chloe agreed. She'd been provided with winter uniforms, including an impressive wool cloak lined with fur. Imogene had advised her to wear layers and presented her with woolen and silk underthings that were finer than anything the army provided. Along with extra woolen socks and advice on warming charms. "The weather in the north will be interesting."

  Giane shivered a little. "I grew up in Sasskine. I'd hardly seen snow until I came to Lumia. I'm not looking forward to freezing half to death in Andalyssia. The temperatures are dire. And it's still only autumn. At least we'll be out of there before winter proper hits."

  "Yes, but it's Andalyssia." There was no farther north to go in the empire and few countries as mysterious. Though why they wanted to hold a royal wedding at a time of year where the weather would be growing increasingly worse was part of that mystery. But traditions were hard to argue with. Apparently their seers set the date. Seers. More mysteries. "We're lucky to be chosen."

  "I guess," Giane said. "We just better hope we’re more successful than some of the previous missions. No one wants to come home in disgrace. And a royal wedding in a country so...traditional seems rife with chances to break some obscure point of etiquette and cause a scandal."

  "We just have to pay attention and listen to what the others tell us to do," Chloe said firmly. "Junior lieutenants aren't expected to be front and center." She didn't know if that was going to be strictly true in her case. Not if Colonel Brodier had been serious about Chloe attending all the wedding festivities. "I know there was a less-than-ideal mission a long time ago, but there's no reason for that to happen again. From what I heard, the captain in charge was an idiot and dragged all the others down with him. Colonel Brodier is not an idiot."

  She wasn't going to mention that she knew one of the people who'd been on that mission. Most of the delegation knew she was friends with Major du Laq, but she didn't intend to bring the subject up if they didn’t. Imogene didn't like talking about her ill-fated early mission, so it wasn't as though she knew much about it anyway.

  Lucien had been to Andalyssia, too, in the wake of the Elannon scandal. He'd been tight-lipped when he'd returned. And he was the last person in the empire she would seek out for advice now.

  She'd avoided him successfully in the army's section of the palace complex as well, so far. The judicial arm of the mages had its own building closer to the palace than most of the other barracks. Closer to be at the emperor's beck and call perhaps. Or maybe to be summoned to the dungeons at a moment's notice.

  She shivered a little at the thought, then pushed it away. She had no reason to ever become familiar with the dungeons and no intention of ever getting to know how the judicial corps did their work. She'd had enough experience of courts and trials for a lifetime. Diplomats rarely had to give evidence in public. And if they did, it would be a ranking officer. The rest of them wrote reports and stayed out of sight. Which suited her perfectly well. And now she was far above Lumia and putting miles between her and Lucien de Roche with every passing hour. That was a cheering thought.

  "Tell me about the Faithless Isles," she said to Giane. "Tell me everything."

  They managed to pass the time from the navire ascending until the bells started to ring to signal the change of the hour on this subject. In fact, Giane's descriptions of pristine beaches and handsome dark-skinned men and warm nights had been delightful. Though also underscoring that their current destination was likely to be a quite different experience.

  "Dinner," Giane said happily when the bells fell silent. "Good, I'm starving."

  Chloe's stomach was starting to rumble, too. Her nerves had mostly gone now that she was underway and knew she could get along with her roommate. She'd spent so little time sharing living quarters with other people over the last ten years that she wasn't sure how she'd react to sharing such a small room. But Giane was funny and easygoing, and it seemed likely that they would get along well enough.

  They made their way to the mess hall, Giane leading the way with confidence. The imperial army still only had a few navires, and so far all of them had been built to Imogene's initial design, which in turn had been based on the medium-sized courier ships the navy used for ferrying small delegations or important passengers around in the past, or so Imogene had informed her.

  "Know one of them, know them all" had been her exact words. Giane had repeated them as she'd led the way from their cabin. Which was useful, to know it was true. It made it simpler to think that if they changed vessels, Chloe would still be able to find her way around. A small piece of confirmation to start building her own confidence in this new venture.

  But that pleased sense of hopeful confidence only lasted as long as it took to step through the doors of the mess hall and realize the man seated to Colonel Brodier's right at the head of the dining table was Lucien.

  Chapter 11

  Her first instinct was to turn on her heel and run. Swiftly followed by the realization that there was nowhere to run to.

  She could hardly fling herself over the edge of the navire. The mages who kept the damned thing aloft couldn’t catch her midair and save her. Instead, she froze in place, staring at Lucien like a rabbit who spotted a fox.

  What in the name of the goddess is he doing here?

  He didn't notice her at first, his attention on his plate as he buttered a roll. Until Colonel Brodier said mildly, "Don't stand there blocking the doorway, Lieutenant de Montesse. Take your seat and eat before it gets cold," and Lucien's head snapped
up a shade too fast.

  Their eyes met, his flaring wide for the blink of an eye, the wild green of them piercing. He held her gaze a few seconds too long before he composed himself and looked away. Somehow she managed to make her legs move and walked to the closest empty chair, sat, and tried to remember how to behave like everything was normal. Her hands moved by rote, laying her napkin over her lap and then reaching for water as her mind whirled.

  Lucien? Lucien was on this mission. On this navire. How? And why had nobody mentioned it to her? She racked her brain for whether there'd been a full list of the personnel in any of the briefing notes. But no, they'd been full of Andalyssian political history, not logistics other than information about when to report to the navire.

  She hadn't really thought about who she would be working with on the mission, too swept up in the unexpectedness of being chosen at all, and too new to the corps to make any educated guesses. She hadn't even met most of the corps yet.

  It had never occurred to her that Lucien might be going. He wasn't even in the corps. Imogene couldn’t have known either. She would have told Chloe.

  Long years of practice at hiding her feelings got her through the dinner. The food was hot, but beyond that, she didn't notice anything about it, eating only because it would draw attention not to. Giane sat on her right, and the senior lieutenant, Bertrand Rennie, opposite her. She concentrated on them, avoiding any reason to look to the head of the table. She pretended to drink the wine served but mostly sipped water, wanting to keep a clear head as her thoughts continued to reel.

  What the hell was happening? Lucien here? On this mission? Why?

  As one of the Truth Seekers sent to Andalyssia after the Ashmeister Elannon incident, it seemed unlikely that he would have won himself many friends there. So why was he included in what was supposed to be a goodwill mission to show the new king support?

  Was there more to the mission than she'd been told? It was entirely possible. She was brand-new and wouldn't be told everything. But if she was going to be doing more than merely the usual junior lieutenant things of note-taking and organizing and being a dogsbody as needed, if she was to attend the balls and ceremonies and speak with the members of the Andalyssian court, shouldn't she know if they had another agenda?

  Maybe she was yet to be briefed.

  Or had Aristides had a hand in this? She had no idea why the emperor would be keen to throw her into Lucien's company, but neither could she imagine that the emperor didn't know the precise history between them. Truth Seekers were rare, and they almost all worked for him.

  Illvyan aristos committing treason were rare, too. So, no. She had no doubt that Aristides knew exactly who had prosecuted her husband's case.

  Was he trying to mend fences between them? Or was there something else at play? Some connection to Charl?

  She sipped water again as the next course was served, her throat dry.

  Maybe she was being ridiculous. Maybe Aristides couldn’t care less about her, and he had needed a Truth Seeker on this mission, and Lucien had been the one who was available. Regardless of how he had come to be on the mission, he was. And she had to spend the next few months in close quarters with him.

  That was going to go well, considering it had taken approximately fifteen minutes at Imogene's ball for his company to nearly undo her.

  She risked a glance in his direction, keeping her face turned toward Lieutenant Rennie opposite.

  Curse her luck, he was looking her way. She flicked her attention back to her plate. Had he noticed? Surely he had. Ugh.

  He didn't miss much, Lucien. Of the three of them, he had the best mind for detail and precision. A natural inclination, honed by his Academe training and his choice of profession. Now he was a marq, too, who had to remember the intricate details of an entire estate to look after it and his people. He never did anything halfway, so she could only imagine he'd worked even harder on improving his organization and attention to detail. Useful traits for a diplomat, she supposed.

  Damn the man.

  What was he doing here?

  Why did a mission to Andalyssia require a Truth Seeker?

  Thankfully the colonel didn't drag the meal out for much longer than was necessary. She made introductions, which Chloe was grateful for. Putting names to faces was helpful. Though there were also more of the delegation who were currently above deck, on duty. The teams of blood mages paired with water mages and their sanctii who powered the navire's flight stood watch in three teams at a time. So at least six faces missing from the table, all of them ranking officers. The imperial mages didn't really have enlisted men, their lowest rank being ensign. When the mages needed muscle, they drew from the regular army.

  After dessert, Colonel Brodier dismissed them back to their freedom for the evening. Chloe had planned to explore the ship, but now that she knew she might randomly bump into Lucien, that idea had lost any appeal. Tempting to claim an upset stomach and retire to her cabin, but that was complicated when she’d just eaten an entire meal, not to mention sharing a room. Giane would see through a ruse soon enough, and then Chloe would have to deal with questions she didn't wish to answer.

  Dammit. She was going to have to find a smaller group and socialize and hope Lucien didn't join them. But who?

  While she dithered, most of the others cleared the room. If she didn't move, she was going to be alone with Colonel Brodier and Lucien anyway. She turned and hurried out of the dining room, listening to see if she could determine where the others had gone.

  She hadn't gotten very far when she heard footsteps behind her.

  "Lieutenant, wait."

  Lucien. Damn it. Not only could she not avoid the man, but he also outranked her. She couldn't ignore him and keep walking. She took a moment to compose her expression and then turned. "My lord Truth Seeker."

  In the low-ceilinged corridor, he seemed too large. Too solid. Imperial black shouldn’t have suited him, but somehow it always had. It highlighted the planes of his face and the depth of green in his eyes. Just then it also highlighted tense shoulders and a tight mouth. "Am I to guess that you didn't know I was on this mission?"

  "Am I to guess that you didn't know I was on this mission?"

  "I didn't," he said shortly. "I'm not in the habit of checking on the junior officers. Besides which, I'm not part of the corps. Personnel is Colonel Brodier's job. I've worked with her before, so I saw no reason to inquire." He looked down at her, and she wasn't entirely sure if it was frustration or irritation tightening his jaw. "I had heard that you joined the mages."

  He had? Goddess. Army gossip and court gossip. Both moved faster than a sanctii.

  "But that was barely a week ago," Lucien continued. "It's unusual for such an inexperienced officer to be chosen for a long mission so soon." His mouth flattened briefly. "But I guess the emperor would see your experience as useful to get us through this damn wedding."

  Did that mean he didn't think her experience was useful? "Are you questioning my abilities, my lord?"

  "Technically, it's Major," he said. "When I'm doing this, rather than directly working on a case, it’s less confusing if we stick to ranks. And no, I do not question your abilities, Lieutenant. I know you, remember?"

  "You knew the girl I was long ago," Chloe said tightly. "Do not think you know me, my—Major de Roche."

  "Well, it seems we will be getting to know each other again, to some extent, during this mission," he said, his voice equally tense. "We have to work together. So we have to be civil. I will not seek you out, but I can't avoid you entirely. If you’re not going to be able to work with me, then you need to let me know. I can speak to Colonel Brodier. We will be landing in Bonaroi tomorrow with some mail. You can be excused from the mission. It would only take you a few days to return to Lumia via the mail carriages if there's no official transport heading for the city."

  She stared at him. Did he truly think that was an option? "If I leave this mission, it is unlikely I will ever be given anothe
r. I’m already considered an oddity because of my history, and the fact that I joined the mages so late. Not to mention, as you so kindly pointed out, I'm brand new in the corps. If I throw away this chance, I'm done. Perhaps you should return home." That was bordering on rude. And was definitely insubordinate. A lieutenant shouldn't be hissing at a major in such a small space. If anyone saw them, rumors of the exact kind she did not want would ensue.

  "I was requested to join this mission by the emperor," he said. "Short of me breaking both my legs, I'm not going to be given permission to leave."

  "That could be arranged," she snapped before she thought.

  Lucien burst into laughter.

  Oh no. She didn't want to see him laughing. He'd always been far too handsome when he relaxed and smiled. Once, she had made an effort to coax smiles out of him whenever she could. He was serious by nature, and his career only increased those tendencies. She hadn't like seeing him grow so solemn. His smile had always been her reward. Knowing she had reminded him that he was more than just his powers.

  But that had been Lucien before. And she should take no pleasure in a smile from him now.

  "Now, that," he said when he got himself back under control, "is precisely what I was talking about. Diplomats—and junior lieutenants—do not tell their comrades that they will break both their legs. At least not very often. And usually not when there is no alcohol involved."

  She scowled, but he was right. She wanted to be a diplomat. She needed to control her emotions. There would be plenty of times where she had to deal with difficult people, and she needed to show them nothing she didn't want to reveal. Win them over and make them think they delighted her, if necessary.

  "I can't imagine I will need to make a similar offer to anybody else," she said. "But I apologize, that was rude of me. Perhaps, Major, if you would give me permission to retire, I can remove myself from your presence and go practice my self-restraint."

 

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