"But I don’t get why." Aeley waved her hand. "Not the guy. I get that. Allon would've told him to go through with it. But your mother—why? It's not something that needs fixing. It's not against our laws or any rules—"
"Except when they're family rules," Lira interrupted. "My parents saw value in me being a daughter. They wanted to keep me open for marriages—all marriages. My father never got over losing what he always expected to be his. He planned his life around the assumption he'd be Steward. My mother, too. They thought if they could pawn all of us off to wealthy, influential families, we might be able to reclaim some of what was lost."
"But—"
"But the number of sons and fathers willing to marry me grossly outnumbers the daughters. And more than that, I'm supposed to keep my hands clean. The other families don’t want a scribe as a daughter. They want a pretty face with a pretty mouth that’ll do whatever they want. Or a girl who can lie as easily as she draws breath and makes everyone think she’s perfect, while she’s secretly dying inside."
"And there’s no room for someone like you," Aeley murmured.
"You know how it is. Family is everything. For the Grands, reputation and status are just as important. We put all of that first. You know it. You live it. You talk about duty. You talk about your father and everything he’s done. You talk about recovering after Allon’s disgrace. You are exactly what’s expected of you." Lira leaned forward, her voice almost a whisper. "But when someone breaks the society rules and ignores expectations by choosing individual happiness over that of family loyalty, that’s when they’re trouble. I don’t act like I’m supposed to. I don’t do what I’m supposed to. I’m not even attracted to whom I’m supposed to. And while I’m just being me, it’s still a choice."
"You shouldn’t have to choose. It’s not fair." Aeley snorted and crossed the room, staring out the window as Lira curled into the chair. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to the Grand Families instead of worrying about Allon. Nothing of what she's saying is good. And Father wanted me to be part of it? Did he realize he's committed me to a family I'm more likely to want to throw away than actually put up with?
"Since when was anything in our lives about being fair? Here you are, a contract stuffed down your throat simply because you’re the beloved child of your father. That’s not fair, either. I'm not interested in some empty relationship just for sake of feeding my parents' selfishness, especially if I can't do what I want. But I’m not as good a daughter as you. I’m not willing to trade that for some duty I inherited simply because I exist. I‘m selfish. I choose me."
"That’s not selfish," Aeley argued softly.
"As sweet as you are, it doesn’t change what it is." Lira paused, drawing in a breath and leaning back into the chair. "They've deemed me too much of a threat. I've put up too much of a fight. They don't want to show me off anymore. They're too afraid if someone proposes to me, I'll shame them and make them run away. And certainly since I started apprenticing under Vant. It's an insult my mother still can't overcome. She hasn't talked to me since." She sighed and stared out the window, her chin propped by one fist. "Not that it isn't refreshing."
And suddenly it all makes perfect sense, Aeley realized. "That's why you spend so much time in the villages and not there."
"Home isn't home when neither of your parents talk to you and your brothers act like they barely know you, just to save face. And the reason why I don’t fight them when they belittle me? I’ve fought so hard that all my fighting words are gone." Lira clasped her hands in her lap. "And that's why we don't talk about me. There's not much to talk about. My worth is in what I let people see. Even you. Especially you."
"Me?"
A blush spread across Lira’s face as she smiled shyly. "Like I said: I like you. More than like, actually. I didn’t want to complicate things with problems that aren’t yours. And I certainly don’t care for being reminded of how much I don’t have when all I want is to forget. And I like to do that with you. Forget. And be myself, with someone who appreciates it. Someone who doesn’t think I’m selfish."
"Oh." Aeley hung her head, searching for something to say. No words seemed appropriate. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed it."
Lira held up her hand. "No, you're right. It should go two ways between us and you deserve to know who you're dealing with. No matter who you choose—"
"Who I choose?" Aeley gaped at Lira. Was it another one of her terrible jokes?
Lira batted her lashes and sat back. "What? I'm assuming Emon and Ryler are still—"
"Not being considered. I thought I was making that perfectly clear." Aeley frowned. Maybe I've missed something. Didn't do it right. I've never been particularly good with sentiment or romance. She stood before Lira and gripped the chair. "Would it help if I said I think you're cute?" she asked, leaning over.
"Maybe," Lira murmured, before kissing Aeley's lips. She pulled back slowly. "And maybe you should be telling them."
Aeley sucked in a breath and straightened. "Maybe not quite yet. They might have one or two uses before I go breaking their very shallow, very self-absorbed hearts."
"Like what?"
"Like lending me some help." Aeley sighed. Was she really going to say it? "Allon might be right. Might. We need information and we need more eyes. We need more of everything, especially since I don't trust a word Allon said. Father always said I shouldn't be too proud to ask for help, and usually I am. I think we need it, as much as I hate to admit it. There have already been too many people involved."
"So you want to ask my brothers?"
"Do you think they'd be completely useless?"
"Well, not really…" Lira pushed up from the chair and leaned against the window frame.
Leaning against the frame, Aeley watched Lira's face flit from one expression to another. "Putting all personal qualms aside, do you think they'd help? If I asked them for their ideas and to provide some extra protection, would they do it?"
"A chance to help the Steward and practically be considered Steward by association? That's hardly worth the question. My father would push them into it. He'll even provide you with his own version of help. Of course…"
"They'd be doing it for their own good. Yes, I know. At this point, I don't know if we can afford to be so choosy." Aeley glanced at the door. "I still haven't heard anything from Mayr, good or bad."
"So do it. Just remember they need to be kept in line from time to time."
"Mm," Aeley agreed, focusing on the ideas rambling through her mind. It also wouldn't hurt to have a spy, someone to sneak around. Someone who knows Allon enough to know where to look.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just considering. I think I have a message for you to write."
"Oh? To?"
"Oly Valley."
"Wasn't that where Allon—"
"Yes. The village he attacked. I met a mercenary there and assuming he's still there, I have a job for him."
"Doing what?"
"Gathering information. Finding out if Allon really has nothing to do with this. I can't ask Mayr, because he's busy with guards. Besides, he's not trained for it. He's skilled at the much less discreet. Meant to be seen and heard. He likes it that way. But Gren… not necessarily."
Lira smiled, the anger and bitterness from earlier conversation gone. "You like him, don't you?"
"Admire. I admire him." Aeley shrugged and grasped Lira's hand to examine her ink-stained fingers. "He goes in and just does things, and it works."
"And you think he'll be helpful?"
"Yes, actually, I do. It can't be any worse than where we are right now. He knows people I don't. People that Allon calls friends."
"Well then." Lira breathed out. "What are we waiting for? Slap a quill in my hand and let's get it done."
*~*~*
"I don't trust them."
Aeley tried not to laugh at Mayr's scowl and the way he shifted his feet. He always judged people quickly, and never kept quiet when he fo
und someone he disliked. The way he eyed Emon and Ryler from across the meeting room told her to keep them away from Mayr's flexing hands. His sour mood did not help, making him more likely to start a fight. She could not blame him, having gotten the same amount of sleep in the two days since they returned home. They both sported dark circles under their eyes, except hers came with the benefit of Lira, a warm companion in an otherwise-empty bed.
"Don't you mean Gren?" Aeley asked. Gren sat at the table, tapping the wood with the dagger he twisted in his hand. Already, he looked bored, slouched down in his seat while his gaze wandered the room. Had she not known better, she would have thought Gren was Mayr's father, with their similar height and tanned skin wrapped around a muscular build. They even shared the same dark hair, despite the blond and grey strands in Gren's hair.
"No, I trust him. It's the other two." Mayr gestured to the brothers with his chin. "I heard more than enough of them from that ball we had. If you marry either one of them, I might just kill myself to get away. I told you we could handle this on our own."
"Before or after you exhaust yourself to the point where you're useless?"
"Would never happen," Mayr muttered, "and completely irrelevant. Don't change the subject."
"I didn't—you said—" Watching Emon and Ryler converse, Aeley pursed her lips. The meeting needed to be short and straight to the point. Anything more would test the lack of patience she sensed from all four men, each of them glancing around the room. It was obvious they wanted to be anywhere else but there.
A flash of dark red in the doorway caught her eye. She rushed to the door without hesitation, relieved to see Lira.
"Good, you're here," Aeley whispered, slipping one hand behind Lira's back and guiding her to a chair at the table. "We'll start, now that we're all here."
The fleeting expression on Emon's face as he stared at Lira would have been easy to miss had Aeley not expected it—surprise, mixed with annoyance. He recovered quickly, drawing a hand through his hair. Clean-shaven and wearing freshly-laundered clothes, he appeared to want attention. No doubt to throw his brother's face in the mud and run with the spoils.
"We’re interested in why we're here. Though we weren't expecting an audience," Emon stated, without glancing at Gren or Mayr. "We were hoping it was to get to know us better, like you promised. Maybe even that sparring you and I had talked about. You remember, don't you? You seemed eager for me to prove myself, show you what a real man can do." He blatantly shifted his gaze to Mayr.
Aeley gripped the back of Lira's chair and willed herself to remain still, aware Gren watched her, but said nothing. The blade in his hand stopped moving, hanging above the table as if he contemplated doing something else with it.
She forced a polite smile, wishing it alone could break the tension. "There's still plenty of time for that. In a way, it's why you're here. We have need of your skills."
Emon's eyes widened, his brows rising. "Really?"
"Yes, we need your help." Aeley cleared her throat. "Rather, I need your help."
"Absolutely," Ryler replied, leaning into the table with his fingers splayed. "Anything—"
"Ryler," Emon warned, slapping a hand to his brother's chest. "You should wait for her to pose the request before you agree."
"Why? We never get requests from the Dahes—I mean, a Steward. This goes a long way in proving they don't hate us like everyone says they do. Or, wait, I think I have it backwards again. It's us who apparently do the hating, isn't it?" Ryler laughed and winked at Aeley. "But that's just talk, right? Who could possibly hate a charming girl like you?"
Mayr growled quietly behind Aeley and moved closer. She could imagine the expression on his face. Holding one hand back, she flicked her wrist and held out her fingers, gesturing for him to stop. As stupid as they seemed to think she could be, she still controlled the meeting.
"Thank you, Ryler, for being eager to help. I truly appreciate it. It's important to know who one's friends are." Aeley looked at Emon. "I also appreciate your keen sense of propriety and caution. Perhaps we can work all of this together for a result which pleases us all?"
"We're listening." Emon crossed his arms, almost daring her to say something he could deny.
Aeley took a breath and swallowed her pride. "We've had a few problems as of late. Perhaps you've heard about the attacks our villages have experienced? In fact, there were another two just yesterday. One in a village near here—an elderly man was nearly killed. The other was actually near your estate. A young woman assaulted and left in the middle of the common road, as I understand it."
"Yes, we heard about it this morning," Emon replied. "Father informed us when we woke. A shame, really, dying so young." His lips straightened into a tense line and he glanced at Ryler. When Ryler did not react, he slapped his arm. "Say something."
Ryler shook his head, jolted out of his daze. "Yes, terrible. Terrible. Uncouth. Uncivilized." His shaky smile lasted for a moment, replaced by curiosity. "Sorry, where do we come into this?"
"These attacks are not slowing down, nor ending. We've also had a hard time catching those responsible, though we have managed to catch one. By luck, as the soldier tells it." Aeley resisted the urge to pull her hand through Lira's hair to comfort herself. "We hoped he would talk and tell us who was in charge."
"Has he?" Ryler asked, stiff as he straightened. He crossed and uncrossed his arms. "I mean, it's important to find out what he knows. Terrible things require a name, right?"
"Certainly, but it would help if he didn't poison himself before we had something to work with." With a sigh, Aeley laid a hand on Lira's back and subtly twisted one of her curls. "But they're down a man. I suppose that's better than nothing."
"Oh, well." Ryler teetered. "A shame, isn't it?"
Emon was tense, his expression hard to read. He stared at Aeley's arm, her hand still on Lira's back. For a moment, he seemed concerned. "What do you want from us?" he asked. "Or are you suggesting we should know something about it?"
"Why? Do you?" Mayr asked, taking another step towards Aeley.
Emon raised his chin. "Nothing of the sort. And you can stop being paranoid. It's hardly worthy of a Tract Steward's right hand." He glanced at Aeley. "So again, what do you want from us? We're not married yet, meaning I can't give you everything that belongs to our family. No matter how pretty you are."
"I'm not asking for everything," Aeley answered, clenching her teeth. "I'm asking for your ideas on what to do. You're associated with people I am not. And I'd want to know if you'd be interested in spending more time here and in the nearby villages to help. We could use the extra protection, at least until we derive a solution. Or, more hopefully, an end where the men are in our keeping, waiting to be tried and punished by the High Council."
"You want us to stay here, with you?" Ryler blinked. "That's hardly an invitation I can—"
"Done," Emon interrupted, and watched Aeley retract her fingers from Lira's back. "Though I offer a counterproposal. Something given, something returned."
The way Lira stiffened was not lost on Aeley. On instinct, she gripped Lira's shoulder, squeezing it assuredly. "Make your offer."
"That you make the concerted effort to see both of us during it. We are not your guards to be commanded. And we will have access to the full estate, not be caged." Emon's gaze fell to Aeley's hand on Lira's shoulder. The corners of his lips pulled and his nostrils flared. "In essence, what we would have once the marriage contract is fulfilled."
He disliked what he saw, Aeley realized, refusing to draw her hand away. "Fine. It's a deal." She held out her hand, grasping Emon's arm.
And just to return the kindness you've shown Mayr today… Pulling away from Emon, Aeley leaned over Lira's shoulder and slipped her hand down Lira's back without being subtle. She pressed her lips to Lira's ear. "They won't get anywhere," she whispered.
Glancing up, Aeley watched Emon's disgust flare in his eyes and around his mouth. With one glimpse at Ryler, she saw his surp
rise before he leaned into his brother and whispered.
"This meeting's finished, yes? You got everything you wanted?" Emon asked, standing. He continued when Aeley nodded. "Good. We're going to our estate and will return this evening with our things."
"Do you want an escort?" Aeley asked as he walked towards the door.
"Keep thinking like a Tract Steward. Save the protection for the people," Emon called back. He left the room with Ryler behind him.
Aeley breathed out, her relief relaxing her body.
"Well, aren't you just a risky little vixen?"
Turning to Gren, Aeley recognized his smirk. He wagged his dagger at her. "Don't think I didn't notice what you were doing. Then again, that was the plan, wasn't it?" He stood before she answered and jammed the knife into the sheath on his belt. "Stewards and games—can't separate the two. Or is it because you're a woman?"
"Very funny," she said, turning to him. "Have you used that one on Tracel? I'm sure she'd find it just as amusing as I do."
"She thinks I'm hilarious. You're the sarcastic one." Gren gestured to Mayr. "Almost as good as this young pup. Should have my fist in his bloody face for half of what he's spewed since I got here. One full day and already he's itching for a beating."
Mayr snorted. "I'd dare you to try, but I already know you’d be good for it."
"At least you're honest. Better than those idiots," Gren said. He pointed at the door. "I'd tell you don't trust them, especially since you're paying me this time, but something tells me you know that already. Both of you," he added with a glance at Lira. "You're just about as pleased with them as the rest of us."
"You have no idea," Lira mumbled, pressing her forehead on the table.
Aeley twirled strands of Lira's hair. "So we're good, then? You'll ask around, poke your nose into things?"
"Already started doing it. Early morning is great for getting into other people's business." Gren grinned. "I should have something by late tonight. Depends on how fast messages travel. In the meantime, I'd worry about those idiots, who are supposed to be coming back."
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