Unlit

by Keri Arthur

  If Trey felt a similar reaction, he was doing a damn good job of concealing it.

  “That’s not the only reason the bracelets caught my interest,” I said, in a vague attempt to concentrate on the reason I was here. “Out in the desert, when Saska asked me to remove them, she said they were a gift from the queen, and that she could be tracked through them.”

  He leaned forward at that. “There haven’t been royals in Gallion for eons.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I suppose she might have been delusional. It’s possible she was out in the Tenterra sun for too long.”

  “You saw her skin, Commander. Did it look like she’d been out in the sun to you?”

  “No.” A smile briefly ghosted his lips. “Describe these women to me.”

  I did so, and he frowned. “The older woman sounds like Lady Hedra Harken—”

  “Who is?” I cut in.

  “Saska’s mother.”

  “Meaning it’s even odder Saska went on to deny seeing the bracelets before she woke in the desert when they’re identical to the ones her own mother wears.”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his chin, expression thoughtful. “The other lady would probably be Pyra. I haven’t had much to do with her but I believe her to be the youngest of Brent’s five daughters.”

  “She made some effort to seduce me.”

  “Did she now?” Speculation lit his eyes. “And why is that, do you think? Because your tone makes it obvious you don’t believe it’s simple attraction.”

  I smiled. “Oh, she was attracted. But her overtures were a little too deliberate, and I don’t believe she was there of her own volition.” I hesitated. “Is possible that Lord Kiro set her onto me?”

  He laughed. “No. Kiro sees your resistance to his wiles as a challenge. He wouldn’t send others to do what he can’t.”

  “Meaning you didn’t tell him to back off?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” I picked up the waist belt and waved the green end of it lightly. “Is that not the purpose of this thing? You know Kiro is an unwanted suitor.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t apply in this case. Kiro believes someone within Winterborne’s ranks is responsible for both Saska’s disappearance and her mysterious reappearance. He has full approval from the Forum to do whatever might be necessary to uncover who that person—or persons—might be.”

  “I’m not that person, Commander.”

  “He’s well aware of that, but you nevertheless keep secrets, and until he uncovers them, he’ll keep up the pursuit.”

  “Even though he knows I’m here to assist you?”

  “Yes.”

  I grunted unhappily. Putting up with Kiro’s heated overtures on top of everything else was not what I wanted—or needed—right now. “What should we do about Lady Pyra?”

  “I shall discreetly inquire about her.” He hesitated. “Although the best means of finding information would be from the source itself. If you could lure her away with the promise to spend time—”

  “‘Spend time’ being a polite plateau term for have sex?”

  “Yes.” His smile flashed again. “We’ll provide you with a quick-acting draught that’ll make her talk and then sleep. She’ll wake with no memory of what went on.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And what if I actually want to have sex with her?”

  “Then we’ll provide a slower-working draught.” He studied me for a moment. “Which would you prefer?”

  “The latter.” Not only because I did desire her, but because it’d be safer. She might not remember being questioned but the lack of satiation might well raise suspicions.

  “Ah, good.” He paused and took a long drink. “I’ll give my blessing to such an interlude when she seeks it.”

  “Oh, she has no intention of seeking permission.”

  “Indeed? Intriguing.”

  “Yes.” I paused. “Should I be expecting to approve a liaison for you?”

  “I haven’t agreed to such as yet.”

  Meaning he’d certainly been approached. I couldn’t help but wonder who he was waiting for.

  He took another drink, and then said, “It would seem our targets tomorrow night—aside from Pyra and our so far absent hosts—need to be Lady Hedra and Marcus’s mysterious hetaera, whoever she may be. Whatever is going on, its epicenter revolves around this house. I can feel it in the stone of this place.”

  The only thing I was feeling right now was the unacknowledged thrum of desire that seemed to burn between us.

  “And what of Lord Kiro?”

  “He’d provide no future problem if you’d tell him what you conceal.” There was the faintest hint of reproach and annoyance in his voice.

  “Kiro may be investigating whatever dark deeds are being played out in this place, but I don’t trust him.”

  “Kiro is many things, but he’d never betray either the Forum or Winterborne.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “As sure as I’ve ever been about anything.”

  Which only made me wonder all the more about the relationship between the two men. I doubted it was in any way sexual, but there was certainly something that bound them.

  I pushed to my feet. He made no move to follow. “If the game proceeds tomorrow night, I’d best be fresh for it.” I hesitated, and raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming to bed, Commander?”

  It was both an invitation and a dare, and I wasn’t entirely surprised when he merely shook his head.

  “For intrigue’s sake, it’s better if I don’t.”

  Because, I knew, many of those in the ruling house had as much Sifft blood in their veins as magic, and would therefore note the unfulfilled desire that rode me. It would increase the questions surrounding us, given we were an acknowledged pairing, however informal, and perhaps make the hunters within the ruling ranks even more determined to ensnare.

  And though I understood all this, I couldn’t help asking, “For intrigue’s sake, or is it more an aversion to my stain?”

  He didn’t immediately react. He simply studied my face in such a way that heat began to infuse my cheeks.

  “Your face,” he said eventually, his voice soft. “Is exquisite, staining or no. Whoever has made you believe otherwise is a fool.”

  The words made me smile, even though I’d heard their echo before. I’d believed it back then and it had led to heartache. It wouldn’t be in any way smart to believe them again, no matter how genuine they sounded.

  No matter how much a part of me wanted to believe.

  “Any intrigue I might hold will be of no matter once I meet with Pyra. The race to see who will be the first to taste my so-called delicacies will have been won.”

  “On the contrary,” he murmured, “the mere fact you’ve chosen Hawthorne’s youngest daughter to bestow your first favor on will only enflame determination.”

  “And so, the wheels of deviousness continue to turn.” I shook my head. “I hope you don’t regret your decision in the long hours of sleep to come.”

  “Trust me, I’m not made of stone, Neve, even if I bear it for a name.”

  “That is yet to be seen.” I kept my tone light. “I hope you realize I have no intention of making your vow of celibacy easy.”

  “And another challenge is presented,” he said. “It’ll be interesting to see who wins this particular battle.”

  “It will, won’t it?”

  With a nod good night, I stepped around the large cloudsak and headed for our bedchamber. When I was halfway there, I caught the end of the dress, tugged it over my shoulders, and then tossed it lightly to one side. A soft groan followed me as I disappeared behind the half wall.

  But he didn’t follow me in. Not then, and not in the restless, hungry hours that followed.

  Lord Marcus appeared at the masque early the following evening, but Saska was again noticeably absent. He was a tall, much older man than I’d been expecting, possessing a receding hairline and silvery eyes. He wore a
long loose tunic in the rich hue of his house, and an ornate longsword strapped to his waist. I couldn’t help but wonder if the length of that sword was any indication of a determination to cut ties with his newly returned beloved. His expression—or what was evident of it through the mask—certainly spoke of discontent and anger combined.

  “Our host does not look happy,” I murmured.

  We stood near the far edge of the dance floor, watching the occupants move to a slow and sensual melody. It wasn’t a dance I knew, so I was glad when Trey made no fuss about my refusal to take part. I had no desire to reveal the awkward truth about my education—or lack thereof—when it came to things such as formal dances and manners, which were undoubtedly taught here from a very young age.

  I sipped some wine and ran a hand down the silk of my dress to hold it in place against the teasing wind. Trey had rather generously ordered me an entire wardrobe. The evening outfits were all in the same pale lavender, but the daytime items were a softer, grayer tone. The dress I wore tonight had two full sleeves that ended with gloves, and a high neck that acted as a collar. The lavender material skimmed my waist then fell from my hips in a series of sheer loose panels that provided teasing glimpses of calf, thigh, and rump with every movement. It had also been designed with no back—the material at the front simply wrapped around my hips and skimmed across the top of my tailbone. Trey had one hand wrapped rather possessively around my waist, and it was causing all sorts of internal havoc. Which, I knew, was precisely his intent. The man was evil. And, despite his protestations, he really was made of the material whose name he bore. Certainly none of my overtures this afternoon—be they naked or not—had borne any fruit.

  “We should go introduce ourselves,” he murmured. “It would be impolite otherwise.”

  “I imagine it would.”

  He guided me through the crowd toward Marcus, whose gaze skimmed past us and then abruptly returned. Recognition stirred in his eyes—he was well aware of who we were, masked or not. And if the glower he all but threw my way was anything to go by, he was certainly unimpressed with my presence in his house.

  So why would he go to the trouble of inviting me?

  “Lord M,” Trey said smoothly as he bowed. “May I present to you—”

  “I know who she is,” he snapped, and then seemed to remember where he was. He drew in a breath and offered the required formalities. “Lady N, welcome to my house. I hope the goddess gifts you with a bountiful harvest for this coming year.”

  I curtseyed. “And you, my lord.”

  “Is your lady not present, my lord?” Trey asked.

  “No.” There was much fury in that single word. Again, he struggled to compose himself. “She has taken ill since her return. Mayhaps the babe troubles her.”

  And maybe, the wind whispered, it is something else.

  “Do you think she might see me?” I asked. “It’s unseemly she spends such a time of celebration by herself.”

  Marcus studied me for a moment, and then nodded abruptly. “It is worth a try, I suppose. If you can convince her to come out of hiding, even if only for an hour or so, I would be appreciative.”

  He snapped his fingers, and a blue-clad pageboy instantly appeared. “Escort the lady N to my lady’s rooms.”

  Trey released me. I bowed to Marcus, and then followed the page out of the ballroom. In the colder silence of the halls, the wind’s chatter seemed to increase, whispering of dark secrets and even darker actions in play. Details, however, remained scant.

  The Rossi family’s private accommodation consisted of one entire side of the V-shaped house, and its halls were even more ornate than the guest and entertainment spaces. It was a place of gold and silver, with rich hues on the walls and the floors in the form of tapestries and carpets. Lady Saska’s apartments lay at the rear of the building, in what would be a wide, blunt end of the V-structure.

  The page stopped at the ornate silver-and-blue door and pressed a buzzer. After several seconds, footsteps approached.

  “Yes?” The woman who opened the door was middle-aged and friendly looking.

  “The lady N is here to see Lady S.”

  Obviously, even though we were now beyond the boundaries of the masque, initials still had to be used in public.

  The maidservant hesitated. “One moment, and I shall ask m’lady if she wishes to be disturbed.”

  The door closed again. The page shuffled his feet from side to side, looking rather impatient—at least until he caught my amusement and remembered his manners. I felt like telling him not to bother, but refrained. In this place, my attitude had to appear no different to any of the others here.

  The footsteps approached again. Although I’d half expected to be turned away, the maidservant rather surprisingly opened the door wider and bid me to enter. “Please, Lady N, come in.”

  I thanked the page then entered. Saska’s rooms were—unsurprisingly—far grander than the one I shared with Trey. The lounging room was vast, and filled with enough cloudsaks, hassocks, and divans to seat several households. To my right, there were three doors—the sleeping quarters, bathroom, and separate privy, from what I could see of the rooms beyond—but to my left, there was an entire wall of sliding glass partitions, several of which were open. The wind whistled in, filling the room with the salt of the sea and a feeling of anger. Whatever was going on in this place, she did not like it.

  The maidservant led me out onto the balcony. The wind was even fiercer out here, her touch cold and almost violent, tearing at my dress and mask as if she meant to strip me bare. I hastily slipped off the mask and handed it to the maidservant, who, after announcing me, curtseyed and rather sensibly went back inside.

  Saska leaned against the stone cap railing, her silver-touched black hair streaming out behind her like a wind-torn thundercloud.

  For a minute I wasn’t even sure she was aware of my presence, but then, in a voice that was little more than a whisper, she said, “The wind admonishes me.”

  I stopped beside her and leaned my forearms against the rail. The stone was as cold as the wind, and just as furious. This close to Saska, I could see the paleness of her lips and the shivers that assailed her.

  “And why would the wind do that, Lady Saska?”

  “I do not know.”

  The wind battered her, forcing her to grip the railing tightly to prevent being flung backward.

  After a moment, she whispered, “She’s angry with me.”

  Obviously. The question was, why?

  “You’re her voice in this world,” I said carefully. “What is it that you’re not saying for her?”

  Saska’s gaze came to mine. Her silver eyes were remote—distant—and I had a vague feeling it wasn’t me she was seeing or hearing. There were others—others who might or might not be real—who had her attention right now.

  She stared at me for so long I didn’t think she intended to answer, and then she swallowed heavily. “I can hear them, you know.”

  I frowned. “The whispers of the wind?”

  She waved a hand almost impatiently. “No, the other voices. The ones that belong to her.”

  “Her?” I hesitated, gathering skirts that threatened to end up around my ears. The wind spun around me, her voice filled with amusement. She might be angry with Saska, but it seemed she was feeling very flirtatious with me. “Do you mean one of the women at the masque?”

  “I’d thought that by taking them off,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “it would break our connection. But I was wrong. And she is very angry.”

  So she wasn’t talking about the wind as much as that other, nebulous she—the person who’d given her those bracelets. The woman she had designated “queen.”

  “Why would the queen be angry with you, Saska?”

  “Because I ran. Because it makes communications difficult.” She shivered again and rubbed her arms. “I cannot do what she asks. I simply cannot.”

  A sliver of alarm ran through me. Was Lord
Kiro right—was the epicenter of whatever was happening to be found right here in this house? With Lady Saska herself? “And what does she want, Saska?”

  She blinked, and that odd remoteness disappeared. Whatever had momentarily possessed her had fled.

  “Neve,” she said. “What a surprise.”

  I curtseyed lightly. “I came to see if you’re okay, Lady Saska. You are missed at the masque.”

  She snorted. “Certainly not by my whore of a husband. He has his hetaera to accompany him in my place, after all. Did you know the bitch has borne him three sons?”

  “So I heard.” I touched her arm lightly. “I’m sorry for the position you’ve been placed in, Lady Saska, but it’s not unexpected given your length of time away.”

  She glared down at my hand for a moment, but she didn’t shake me loose and something within her oddly seemed to relax. “I guess. But it rankles nevertheless.”

  “Then why hide in your suite? Why not go out there, into that masque, and show everyone who is the true mistress of this house?”

  She stared at me for another lengthy amount of time. The wind continued to stir around us, but its force was gentler against me than her. And for once, I could hear what it said to her; it wanted her to do as I suggested. That the whispers would be lessened if she were not alone.

  The wind knew what afflicted her. It just wasn’t ready to tell me. Which was frustrating but not unexpected. She was beholden to Saska, not me.

  “You don’t stand on ceremony around me, do you?” she said eventually. “You give your thoughts and opinions honestly, and that is rather rare around here. The wind says I should trust you.”

  I half smiled. “The wind is wise. And I didn’t save your ass in Tenterra, Lady Saska, to threaten it in any way now.”

  “Indeed.” A small but nevertheless real smile touched her lips. I had a vague feeling that didn’t happen all too often. “Then let us get out of the chill of this wind, and go create some havoc at the masque.”

  I smiled and turned to walk alongside her. Once inside, her maidservant hastily smoothed her hair and dress, and then placed the mask upon her. Once I’d donned mine, a pageboy was summoned and we were escorted back to the ballroom, where she was grandly announced.