by C. M. Lind
“But this year—”
“Exactly! This year he acts as if I do not love him. As if he is not close to my heart. It is truly insulting, I know, but I am too kind to him. If this is what makes him happy then so be it!”
“But,” Randolph said sternly, interrupting Jae’s tirade, “this year I have real concerns. We have to take this seriously.”
Jae tsked as if deep in thought. “You are right—to some extent.” He clasped Randolph by the shoulder. “I heard you have been doing well on your own though. You have invited that bore, Balfour, have you not?”
“I did,” Randolph half-lied.
“That alone should make anyone think twice about ruining my party.” He squeezed Randolph’s shoulder. “Well done with such ingenious thinking! I shall have some special bottles delivered to your room.” He winked.
Randolph smiled. It was nice to be reminded why he worked for Jae. The man was spoiled, sure, but he could also be very generous—and fun.
Jae pulled his hand away, turning to walk to one of the other doors in the room. “Come along, now.”
Randolph grabbed a popover, consuming it in two bites by the time he made it to the door. The thick, warm honey oozed onto his hand, and the stickiness of it remained even after he wiped his hand on his pants.
“I will still send you the rum—you will love it. It is a spiced southern Venari spirit! But let me give you something now.”
“I won’t argue,” said Randolph with a chuckle as he entered Jae’s private office. “But we really do need to discuss bringing in more men.”
Jae was already at his desk at the opposite side of the room. He set his glass of juice down, and he pulled the top drawer out. “You are so grim, Randolph. You should have more fun.”
Randolph rolled his eyes, looking around the room. “I do have fun.” To him, the place was filled with crap. Trinkets Randolph knew were expensive—but that didn’t mean they were pretty—littered the place. There were no empty spaces upon the walls. Instead it was lined with framed drawings, paintings, old maps, and some medals that Randolph guessed were the man’s father’s.
Jae jokingly tsked. “Nonsense! Your sparring in the morning does not count as fun! The only way to have fun sweating with a woman is in a more horizontal fashion!” He laughed.
Randolph didn’t. Instead he put on a smile-like grimace, turning his back to look at an overcrowded bookcase. Funny, he thought, there were more trinkets than books.
“Here it is!” Jae pulled a small wooden box free from his desk.
Randolph glanced back to see Jae sliding open the box, revealing brown, dried leaves inside: tobacco.
Jae inhaled the leaves deeply. “My personal favorite. Velescan redleaf mixed with clove and a touch of Lethu fenweed. It is not a good evening without some relaxing leaves and a pipe. Perhaps it will help you have a little fun.”
“I barely use the stuff. I’ve see too many men, you know.” He gestured to his mouth, pulling back his lips to bare his teeth and gums.
“With the cheap stuff, of course!” said Jae. “But this will not stain your teeth nor make your gums bleed. I use it myself every night.”
Randolph nodded a silent relent to the man’s adamant point. He kept the comment about Jae’s repeated lightening treatments maybe having something to do about the whiteness to himself—and he especially kept the smartass comment, that maybe he wouldn’t need them without the leaves, unspoken.
“It is funny though that such a wonderful commodity can make some people so ghastly.”
Randolph nodded along to the man’s words, but he kept his eyes on all the garbage that Jae had collected. For all he knew, that visit would be his only time in Jae’s quarters, and that curious part of him wanted to see everything. There were so many things, he wondered if they were Jae’s or Jae’s father’s.
Jae snickered. “Mother says it is not the tobacco that makes men’s mouth’s bleed, but it is their own vile, wicked tongues.”
Randolph rolled his eyes. If that was the case, he thought, Jae’s mom would have bled out years ago, leaving nothing but a shriveled husk wrapped in velvet and gems. Quite an improvement, he decided. She’d still look the same, but she would be a whole lot quieter.
“Of course she is wrong though. She is always one for superstitions over facts. The truth is that they mix garbage in with the tobacco to make it cheaper. What they put in there is what causes the bleeding.”
Randolph continued to nod. Whatever his lordling wanted to say was the truth was truth enough for him—whatever kept him happy.
“Not this though. This is perfection!”
Randolph heard him inhale again. He turned around, and Jae’s nose was practically wedged in the box.
Jae raised his head back up with a contented smile wide on his face. “Perfect!”
“Yeah,” said Randolph, walking back to Jae and his overcrowded desk. The thing had at least thirteen statuettes of naked women. If the collection really was Jae’s father’s then the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“For you, my man.” Jae offered the box.
Randolph knew better than to not take it. “Thank you very much.”
He wondered if Soli liked tobacco. If she did, he decided, she had a very expensive present coming her way.
Jae waved him off. “Think nothing of it! The least I can do for you putting up with Etienne.”
Randolph tucked it into his belt. But his attention was elsewhere; his eyes flickered between the very intricate, and very endowed, statuettes on the desk. They were the prettiest things in the office, and even Randolph could see the tireless craftsmanship put into each piece. Even to Randolph’s art-challenged eyes, he could see that they each would fetch a small fortune.
“Funny how a plant in the same family as nightshade can be so different.”
“What was that?” asked Randolph, his eyes still on the naked ladies in front of him. Some were carved from stone, wood, and bone. Others were poured silver and gold. One had eyes of sapphires and another had amber.
“Tobacco,” said Jae absentmindedly. “It is the cousin of nightshade. One deadly and one delicious.” He laughed.
Perhaps they weren’t so different, and maybe that was why it made people bleed, thought Randolph. Such smart people, stuffing nightshade’s cousin in their pipes. He especially didn’t want the box after hearing that, nor did he want to give it to Soli. “I didn’t know you knew about plants.”
“A small hobby of mine. They can be quite useful.” Jae reclaimed his cup of juice and took a noisy sip.
Randolph was struck by one statuette in particular. It was carved from bone, and it was clearly Venari by design. The woman’s loose robe was cascading from her shoulders in just the right way to show her left breast, stomach, and leg. Rogue curls spilled from her coifed hair, and an intricately carved necklace resembling a string of pearls dipped into her cleavage.
She looked disturbingly familiar.
“Reminds me, I must do some shopping before the party. I must get more of my herbal supplement.” He tapped a small golden pillbox that was resting on the desk. “Mine has seemed to run out surprisingly soon.”
Randolph’s eyes glanced at the pillbox. It looked dusty, covered with some kind of powdery chalk. “Perhaps you should send Irene out. She’s been dying of boredom anyway.” It was a lie. Randolph knew Irene was busy, but he was selfish. He wanted her out of the way, and, with her gone, Randolph could try to spend more time with Soli unwatched.
“Is she?” asked Jae, astonished at the news. “And here I thought I had given her enough to do!”
Randolph nodded. The naked woman carved from bone upon Jae’s could not leave his mind. Suddenly, he knew who she was—somehow he knew.
“I knew I was paying her too much. And to think that I assigned her time with Mistress Soli as a reward.” Jae sighed dramatically, as if he had been utterly betrayed. “I will send her out today, and I will also assign her a few other things.”
; “It’s Danae, right?” asked Randolph.
“What?”
“The lady.” Randolph pointed to the statuette of bone. “Danae?”
Jae smiled. “It is! I never knew that you knew your world religions, Randolph.”
“Venari?”
“That it is. The embodiment of the earth, the sun, all plants and animals. The dryad of fertility and life. A perfect subject for such a labor of devotion.” Jae took a sip. “And just a bit of lust.”
Randolph’s mouth fell open, and he swallowed hard. “It’s whalebone, isn’t it?”
“You do have an eye for treasure,” said Jae dryly. “Do you not?”
Randolph stood, placing his hand to his crinkled brow. “It’s the statuette isn’t it?”
“I have many, my good man.”
He turned to Jae; a defeated exhalation slipped from him. “From Delarue’s?”
Jae smiled like a toddler caught with an entire jar of cookies. “Of course.”
Randolph’s mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to ask— or the curses he wanted to spout. He stood there: mouth agape, hand to his brow, eyes closed, and unable to look at Jae.
“The others are here somewhere too. I forget where. That one is my favorite anyway. At least a dozen others wanted it, but here it is, upon my desk. Danae in all her beauty for my eyes only.” He giggled.
Suddenly, there were rocks in Randolph’s stomach—big fucking rocks. Boulders perhaps, given his size. They weighed him down, wanting him to crash into the floor. He felt as sore and beaten as if there really there, bruising him from the inside.
“You know me, Randolph, and my weakness for beautiful things. I cannot help myself. If I see something I want, I must have it—everyone else be damned!” He proclaimed the last part with a cheer of his cup.
“So,” Randolph managed to say even with his throat feeling thick. “You?”
“Not really me. I would never do such a thing myself, but I did see to it. I just saw her,” Jae motioned to Danae with his cup, “and I knew I had to have her!”
“Why?” asked Randolph finally lowering his hand from his still crinkled brow.
“Because someone else had already won her! Can you believe that!”
Randolph jabbed his fingers at his heart, hard enough that it would have bruised him had he not been wearing his armor. “Then why have me investigate it?”
“I had to have someone investigate it. I had already made an offer to the winner, and he had declined it. It would have been too suspicious if I had not made a show of it!” Jae giggled again. “And boy, did you and that idiot, Balfour, do that!”
Randolph bit deeply into his bottom lip.
“You two had it all wrapped up so fast that nobody even looked at me! It was brilliant!”
“You would have looked pretty stupid had I figured it out.”
Jae continued to giggle, but it turned into a loud laugh at Randolph’s comment. “Oh, Randolph! You are too much!”
Randolph cocked his head. He didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or punch Jae’s perfect, shining teeth right out of his skull.
Jae continued to laugh as he spoke, winded from his exertion. “You must stop! I do not wish to spill on this rug! It is from Meilyr after all. One of a kind!”
Randolph cracked his neck as he waited for Jae to finish his outburst. About forty seconds later, he had.
“If you’ll excuse me,” said Randolph, who walked away without being dismissed. “I have work to do.”
“Yes, yes. Of course! We are only days away!” said Jae, with too much mirth in his voice for Randolph to stomach.
Randolph walked straight out of Jae’s quarters as if he was a soldier on a forced march all over again. Down the hall he went, then another, and another, through the solarium, down the stairs, and right out the main door, which he personally slammed behind himself.
He ripped the box from his belt, and, without a thought, he threw it as far as he could. It landed in a hedge of trimmed, evergreen bushes by the main gate.
His hands were at his head, squeezing his vexed brain, and he heard his own voice echoing throughout the estate—a loud, cathartic “Fuck!”
Chapter 49
She woke up at Turmont’s. After her late night visit to the temple, she found herself able to sleep as she had never before: restfully and quietly. But when she awoke a few hours later to the high sun of noon pouring into her room, it was to screams.
How dare you?
She felt as if someone had thrown themselves onto her chest, practically pinning her into the mattress below.
How could you?
She growled.
You are nothing but a fool! You cannot trust him!
“Who says I do?”
You cannot lie to me!
She pushed herself up in the bed. “Shut up!”
He is a liar like all the others. You cannot trust any of them.
“He’s the only one who has been telling me the truth!”
Another lie! He is incapable of truth. He himself is but a lie. How can you not see that?
“I know him better than any of the others!”
He is nothing but a murderer in a peaceful robe!
She threw her head back, unleashing a maniacal cackle. “A murderer?”
Nothing better than a poacher setting his trap!
“Ulrich?” She threw her legs over the side of the bed. “He should fear me not the other way around. You’re being ridiculous.”
You do not see what you do not want to. Like James. You lie to yourself more than any other.
Vitoria’s head snapped up. “Don’t you dare say his name,” she warned; her voice rumbled like thunder.
You were blind to him too.
“He is dead!” she yelled, staring at the rough, wooden wall in front of her.
Only after he already had won, you complete idiot!
“You don’t understand!” She shot up from the bed, lunging forward at nothing, wanting anything to strike. Anything to beat and silence.
I understand you better than anyone. You’re mine.
She slammed her palms against the wooden wall. The attic winced, trembling at her strike.
They’re all working against you. All of them vipers.
She pushed away from the wall, collapsing onto the bed. “Not all of them.” She thought of Aimee. For sure, she reasoned, the old woman would never do such a thing to her.
All of them.
She slumped, resting her head onto her knees.
We cannot trust any of them.
“We can’t?”
No. We can’t. And what do we do to traitors?
Vitoria saw James’ maimed body, sinfully naked and obscenely marred.
She didn’t know if the thought was her own or the voice’s.
She pressed her palms around her ears
What do we do?
Her lips parted as she thought about what to say, and she felt the presence of the voice as potently as if it sat beside her, leering into her ear.
“What’s going on up there, darling?” Aimee called from downstairs.
Vitoria’s head shot up. She looked to the side, but, obviously, no one was sitting next to her. The bed was empty, and she was alone.
“Nothing!” she shouted at the floor.
“Then,” Aimee said, followed by a long pause, “who are you talking to?”
Chapter 50
Soli jumped at the frenzied knocking at her door. The book in her hand tumbled off the bed, and a cup of water that she had been balancing on a pillow went with it, splashing its contents on the bed and her sleeve.
The knocking continued, and she rolled off the bed, ducking to fetch the glass from the floor and setting it on the nearby table. “Who is it?” she called out. The annoyance in her voice was aggressively apparent.
“Me,” whispered Randolph, loudly, through the closed and locked door. “Let me in.”
She practically jumped to the door hearing his voice, and sh
e didn’t hesitate to open it. There stood Randolph: his shoulders hunched, arms crossed, and face tucked downward.
“What is it?”
“I just met with Jae.” He couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s bad.”
She put her hand upon his arm. “Come in.” She pulled him, ushering him into her room. He offered her no resistance.
Randolph walked towards her bed and, oblivious to the spilled water, crumpled upon it. Lying on his back, he threw his hands over his eyes while exhaling.
She closed and latched the door, doubling checking the lock, before she went to his side, sitting next to him.
“I fucked everything up,” he said without affect. “I did it.”
“What?”
“Remember Rienne Suchet?” He gulped.
“Of course.” She put her hands on his, trying to remove them from his eyes, but they wouldn’t budge.
“She said Vaux was working for someone.” He sighed. “I know who.”
“Who?” At his continued silence she cocked her head, drawing closer to his face. “No. It can’t be.”
He nodded underneath his hands. “It is.”
“But,” she scrunched her brow, “that’s ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure?” Her hands traveled to his shoulders, tugging slightly at him to gain his attention. “Are you sure?”
His hands fell from his face, landing on her bed. “Of course I’m sure!”
“How?”
He looked her in the eyes. “Because I saw it! He had the things from Delarue’s!”
“Where?”
He flung his hands up in defeat. “In his damn office! They were there the whole time!”
Soli blinked three times. “And you never noticed before?”
He pulled himself up, practically flinching at her question. “Gods, Soli! I’m not that stupid!”
The moment she had asked him the question, she already regretted it. “I didn’t mean—” she said with a tingle in her cheeks and heart.
“The man doesn’t let anyone in unless he wants to nail you, and I, for one, am happy he doesn’t invite me up!” He shook his head at her, his brow scrunched. “But I guess if I was you, I would have figured that out a whole lot sooner, but we can’t all be perfect and smart and amazing and beautiful and perfect like you!”