“Aren’t you in charge of the group? Can’t youtell him to run along and sharpen his knives?”
For the first time, Sicarius turned his gazeon Deret, and it was an icy one. Amaranthe did not think he wouldattack someone simply for annoying him-surely, Maldynado would bedead thirty or forty times by now if that were the case-butSicarius might decide Deret represented a threat, and do away withhim the callous way he did away with other threats.
“My wholesome charms don’t work that well onhim,” Amaranthe said, climbing to her feet as she spoke. Best toseparate the two men before Deret sent any more jabs atSicarius.
“You’re coming back, right?” Deret asked.
“Yes,” Amaranthe said at the same time asSicarius said, “No.”
“I’ll be back,” Amaranthe said with a coollook of her own for Sicarius, then she followed as he led the waydown the hill.
The sun had dropped below the horizon, andtwilight darkened the park. Gas lamps glowed, but Sicarius avoidedthe paths they lit, striding across the grass toward the toweringhedges of the Emperor’s Maze. Amaranthe’s heart sped up, and anuncertain flutter of anticipation danced through her gut. If thiswere any other man, she’d assume he was leading her into the hedgemaze for a private tryst, but this was Sicarius. He’d bemore likely to lead her off for a private evening of weaponspractice.
Though her sandals and dress made her gaitslower than usual, he was careful not to outpace her. He wound hisway into the maze. Giggles and low conversations drifted from thealcoves. On such a lovely summer evening, it might be hard to finda private spot anywhere in the park.
They padded down a long aisle of lush grasssurrounded by the smell of freshly watered hedges and flowers, andhe seemed to find a spot he liked. He turned into an alcove with abench and a small fountain tinkling softly.
“Romantic spot,” Amaranthe said. “Are youbringing me here to seduce me?” She kept her tone light, so hewould know she was joking, but that nervous flutter teased herinsides again. What if she wasn’t? Or he wasn’t? Or-erg, she had tostop thinking.
“You’re dressed for it,” Sicarius said,surprising her.
Her first thought was that he was implyingdisapproval at her bare-armed attire-he certainly had beeninsulting about the last dress Maldynado picked out forher-but his tone lacked any sort of edge, and he looked back andnudged her when she drew even with him.
Ah, that was teasing, if one could call itthat. He was quoting her line from the lake.
“You’re not,” she said, quoting his line.
“No?” Sicarius stopped before the bench andexamined his clothing. He smoothed a non-existent wrinkle andbrushed an imaginary fleck of dust from the hilt of one of hisdaggers.
Actually, the black, however unimaginative,did accentuate everything nicely, and he’d have littletrouble stirring a woman’s fantasies in that outfit…or anythingelse. But that was far too honest to admit aloud. “In myexperience,” she said, “seductions usually involve fewerknives.”
“Huh.” Something in that single syllable madeher believe that hadn’t been his experience. She supposedanyone with the guts to proposition him…liked that it took gutsto proposition him and found the blade collection an appealing partof the package.
Sicarius sat on the bench and held a handout, offering her the seat beside him.
Amaranthe ought to tell him to hurry up andsay what he had to say because Deret was waiting on her, but shecouldn’t bring herself to mention him. She didn’t want to go backto Deret, not when she actually had Sicarius in a romantic spot,and he wasn’t discussing work. Well, he wasn’t discussing anythingyet. She didn’t know what to expect. It was bizarre of him even tosit on a bench; usually, he’d nod for her to sit while he remainedstanding and alert, surveying their surroundings as they spoke.
It was not a large bench, and when Amarantheslid onto it, her leg touched his. The tall shrubs must haveprotected the stone seat from the afternoon sun, for its coolnessseeped through her dress. It made her hyperaware of the heat fromSicarius’s thigh.
“You mentioned a problem?” she asked,cringing when her voice cracked. She cleared her throat.
“Yes.”
Someone giggled in another alcove. A smallcreature rustled through the undergrowth beside them.
“And that problem would be…?” Amarantheprompted.
“Your plans to kiss Mancrest.”
Amaranthe bolted up from the bench. Hertongue tangled under the assault of words that flooded into hermouth. Part of her wanted to deny any such thing, and part of herwanted to berate him for eavesdropping. All of her felt like achild caught reaching for a forbidden bag of candies. She hadnothing to be guilty over though. She hadn’t betrayed Sicarius.They had no agreement of fidelity. And besides, she hadn’t said shewas going to kiss Deret. She’d only been in the earliest stages ofthinking maybe he might be someone with whom shecould see having a relationship.
She settled for crossing her arms over herchest and saying, “How long were you skulking about the gardens,spying on us?”
He gazed up at her. The deepening twilighthid the nuances of his features, and she couldn’t tell if anythingother than his usual mask occupied his face. “What do you consider‘long’?”
“A period of time during which a normal,considerate person would feel ashamed for listening in onsomeone else’s conversation.”
Sicarius did not answer.
Amaranthe sighed and dropped her hands. “Whatare you doing out here? Checking up? Do you still believe Deret isa threat to me?”
“No.”
Crickets sang to each other in the shrubswhile Amaranthe waited for him to explain further.
“I do not like you seeing him,” he finallysaid.
“Because…?”
“You know why.”
She spread her arms. “With any other man inthe world, I’d be positive, but this is you. Lord GeneralUnreadable.” Besides if it was what she thought, she wanted to hearhim say it.
His sigh was so soft she might have imaginedit. “It makes me jealous.”
Dear ancestors, she might have wantedhim to say it, but she had not truly expected him to admit it. “ButI’ve told you how I feel about you, and you chose not to doanything about it.”
“I told you why.”
Amaranthe was torn between rolling her eyesin frustration at him and being tickled it bothered him to see herhaving dinner with another man. She took a few steps to thefountain and leaned her hands against the damp stone rim. “Let mesee if I’ve got this. You’re not willing to have a relationshipwith me, but you don’t want me to have a relationship with anyoneelse either.”
“Yes,” Sicarius said. “Is thatacceptable?”
She snorted. “No, it’s not.”
Sicarius joined her by the fountain. “Ithought not, but you raised my hopes.”
Amaranthe rubbed her face to hide a smilecreeping onto her lips. She ought to be furious, but thiswas progress for him. Incredible to think it from a man overthirty-five years old, but he had probably never been jealous ofanyone in his life, nor told a woman he cared. “I wouldn’t havethought you were the type to do something so frivolous ashope.”
“A recent development.” Sicarius extended hisarm, a hand out to her.
She stared at it, not sure what he wasoffering. She tried to read his face, but the darkness hid what fewcues he gave. A warm breeze whispered through, ruffling his shorthair.
Amaranthe stepped toward him, and he drew herinto a hug. At first, she could only stand there, shocked. Despitethe chiseled muscles beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, hisembrace was gentle. She grew aware of his scent, of shaving soapand weapons cleaning oil, and inhaled deeply. Closing her eyes, sheleaned into him and slipped her arms around his waist. Her knucklesbumped against the hilts of knives, and she smiled in bemusement.Only Sicarius would bring all his weapons to the smooching cornerof the Imperial Gardens.
He lowered his head and rested his cheekagainst her temple. His soft exhalations warme
d her neck, and heatcurled through her body. She wanted to see if he might beinterested in a little more than a hug, but she didn’t. He alwaysseemed like a feral animal in moments like this, and she feared anyshow of enthusiasm would send him stampeding back into his denwhere he’d hide behind a wall of emotionless stoicism.
“You’re the only person who’s ever wanted togive me happiness,” Sicarius said.
That puzzled her until she remembered whenshe had said that, in her talk with Basilard the week before. “Doyou eavesdrop on every conversation I have with othermen?”
“You can’t call it eavesdropping just becauseyou don’t notice me in the area.”
She snorted again. He sounded like he wasenjoying himself. Probably because he had gotten away with stealingher from her evening with Deret, and she was not giving him a hardtime about it. “You’re stealthier than a cat’s shadow. You can’tpossibly expect me to notice you when you’re lurking.”
“Perhaps you have not been assiduous enoughwith your training.”
“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for thefact that you’re a chronic eavesdropper.”
“What did you expect from an assassin?” heasked, tone teasing-or as close to it as he got.
Sicarius drew back, and Amaranthe caught hiswrists before he could step away completely.
“We haven’t resolved anything, you know,” shesaid.
He extricated one hand and pointed to thebench. He probably wanted to sit and discuss the situation, as ifit were some battle plan they were concocting. Shaking her head,she returned to her seat.
“Just to be clear,” Amaranthe said, “thisjealousy of yours, it arises from the fact that you’d like tobe…uhm…” She groped for a word. With anyone else, she would saylovers, but that implied emotions she doubted he would ever admitto-if he could feel them at all. “…Bed friends,” she said, thenrolled her eyes. Lovers would have been better. “It’s not just someterritorial dog-peeing-on-a-lamp-post thing, right?”
“Bed friends?”
Yes, he probably thought she was sillybecause she didn’t simply say what she meant, but, curse him, hewasn’t saying what he meant either.
“Are you voting for that one or mocking theterm?” Amaranthe asked.
“Yes.”
Someday she was going to learn not to givehim those sorts of questions. “Somehow, I think things would begoing easier for me if I’d stayed on the hill, drinking Deret’swine.”
“You like a challenge.”
She grew aware of the warmth of his thighagain. “Would it truly be so detrimental if we…were a we? If it’sabout the men being jealous that two out of the six people in thegroup get to have…bed friends, that’s not really a problem whenwe’re in the city, right? They can go off and find their ownpartners. They wouldn’t even need to know. You’re about asdemonstrative as a rock, and I think I can manage to keep my handsoff of you while the others are around.”
“Really,” he said dryly.
Though she doubted Sicarius would fail tomiss spies in the bushes, she lowered her voice to a whisper tosay, “If it’s about Sespian, I can understand you not wanting moreobstacles between you two, but it would be my choice. Evenif he does still have feelings, which is unlikely.”
“You might decide he’s a better choice.”
“Oh, I’m certain he is.” Amaranthe grinned,though the deepening darkness probably hid it. “But, as you pointedout, I like a challenge. Why would I want to spend time with someadoring, warm youngster when I could have a stiff, aloof assassinwhose idea of romance involves throwing knives and running upstairs together?”
“That’s not romance; that’s training.”
“Is there a difference for you?”
“Slight.”
Sicarius stood, breaking the contact betweenthem.
Amaranthe sighed. Cool evening air whisperedpast her arms, and dew-touched grass flicked at her bare toes. “Iguess this means you’re not going to demonstrate what thatdifference might be?”
“Not until this is over.”
“This being our…exoneration? And youhaving a chance to talk with Sespian?”
“The latter in particular.”
Amaranthe fought down a grumble. So, she gothim if she found a way to put him and Sespian together, sohe could have his chance to explain everything to his son. Settingthat up had always been her intent, but she was not sure how longit would take.
She supposed she ought to find it encouragingthat Sicarius cared enough about righting things with Sespian notto want to steal his girl, but, cursed ancestors, she wasn’this girl. And he had surely gotten over that fleeting infatuationby now anyway. He had been drug-addled at the time after all.
“In the meantime,” Amaranthe said, “I get tospend my nights sitting chastely in the team hideout?”How…wholesome.
“We could add an evening training session toyour regimen.”
She groaned and dropped her head in herhands. “You have a disturbing sense of humor.”
A long moment passed before he said, “Offer aproposition.”
“I don’t know.” Amaranthe shruggedhelplessly. “I can wait. I just need to know…. Well, we’ve nevereven kissed. How am I supposed to know if all this is worthit?”
She winced as soon as the words came out. Shehadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t worth waiting for, justthat she didn’t know if they’d actually have a physical connectionwhen they actually-
“Worth it?” Sicarius asked, sounding,for the first time she could recall, offended.
Amaranthe groaned. She was making a mess ofthis.
She stretched out an apologetic hand.Sicarius took it and pulled her off the bench. Her feet tangled,and she stumbled into him. His other arm came around her, and hepulled her against him with none of his earlier gentleness.
He wouldn’t hurt her-at least she didn’tthink he would-but her heart quickened, a jolt of concerncoursing through her. Maybe she had pushed him too far. The armwrapped around her tightened, mashing her against his chest. Thefabric of his shirt did nothing to soften the ridges of granitemuscle beneath it, and the thought crossed her mind that if sheever truly did anger him, all her training would be no use.
Amaranthe swallowed and opened her mouth tospeak, though she was not sure whether she meant to apologize orblurt some sort of bravado. It didn’t matter. His mouth found hers,open, demanding, and she forgot about talking. And breathing.
The kiss crackled with intensity, and shethought of the hull of that fortress, its electrical chargeknocking her on her backside. She wriggled her arms around him andreturned the kiss.
His fingers tangled in her hair, caressingthe back of her neck. An ache grew inside, and her toes curledaround the edges of her sandals. She thought of kicking them off,of kicking everything off and-
Sicarius released her and stepped back,leaving her stunned and breathless, her heart galloping in placebehind her ribs. Then, without a word, he strode away.
Amaranthe, legs wobbly, collapsed on thebench. “He’s right,” she croaked. “It is different thantraining.”
EPILOGUE
Basilard told the nerves fluttering in hisbelly to be still. The stubborn things refused to obey.
Tall, broad-shouldered imperial soldiers inblue uniforms with gold trim strode along the brick paths of theOakcrest Conservatory, their boots so polished they reflected theflames of nearby gas lamps. The men’s expressionless faces remindedhim of Sicarius, and so did those dark, cool eyes as theyscrutinized the civilians and servants who crossed their paths.Youths carrying trays of lemonade, iced tea, and wine paid thesoldiers no mind. Of course, they had no reason to worry aboutbeing detained, captured, or killed.
Basilard sucked in a deep breath, grateful anumber of overhead panels were open, letting in fresh air. Withsweat already trickling down his spine, it would have beenunbearably stifling without the evening breeze. He adjusted hiscollar. Maldynado’s outfit was far more constricting than the loosegarments his people favored.
; “Problem?” Books asked.
There are as many soldiers as athletes,perhaps more.
“I don’t think you need to look soconcerned,” Books said. “We made it past the phalanx of vehiclesand soldiers outside, and the door guards let us in, despite mucheyebrow raising over the fact that you brought a man as your onepermitted dinner companion.”
Basilard smiled. I didn’t think the empirehad issues with that sort of thing. Are you sure it wasn’t thatthey were surprised a victorious athlete wouldn’t have a younger,prettier man for an escort?
“I’m going to forgive you for that because ofall that time you recently spent with-” Books glanced around, “-acertain disreputable sort. You probably feel the need to unleashyour sense of humor.”
Or distract himself. Basilard feared theiradmittance had been too easy. Though Books had received a fewquestions about Basilard’s need for a translator, another soldierhad jogged up during the interview and whispered something in theguard’s ear, resulting in Basilard and Books being waved inside.Could the soldiers have recognized them and let them in as a trap?Were they even now waiting to see if Amaranthe and Sicarius waitednearby?
Basilard and Books walked toward a longwooden table with sixty or seventy place settings laid out.Athletes and their companions chatted in pairs or small groups neartrellised vines and citrus trees potted along the way.
“There he is,” Books said.
A glass door beyond the table had opened withtwo soldiers in black entering, the emperor’s personal guard.Sespian came next in blue, quasi-military attire. Unexpectedly, agray-haired woman in a sapphire dress strode beside him. Notexactly beside. Basilard had the impression Sespian was trying tokeep space between them.
“She’s old to be his escort,” Books murmured,also watching the woman. “A chaperone?”
Four more soldiers trailed after thepair.
The emperor gazed about alertly. Though hisposition must cause him a great deal of stress, he appeared noolder than his nineteen years, perhaps even younger, and Basilardwondered how much power he commanded around the Imperial Barracks.Could Sespian do anything about the empire’s underground slavetrade? About the fact that Mangdorians were often targeted?
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