Page 10

Chapter

Ten

T he most that could be said for his mother’s visit was that it was brief. Cassius knew better than to take her overblown protestations over his safety to heart. Her main concern was the disruption to plans for the lavish betrothal ball that was supposed to be held within the week.

When she swept out as gracefully as she’d swept in—taking her usual posse with her—he collapsed onto an armchair and ran a hand through his hair.

The gesture drew his thoughts to Flora. More specifically, to the way she’d played with his hair while her mind was affected by the physician’s magic. It had felt so casual and comfortable. So…intimate.

Danger lay that way.

He knew she hadn’t meant anything by it. She hadn’t even understood what she was doing. He would be wise to banish the whole interaction from his mind, difficult as that might be. It was his own fault for pressing her to avail herself of the pain relief, but he’d been unable to stand the idea of watching her go through more pain on account of his injury.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Weariness tugged at him, heavier than it should have been. Why did it feel like the exhaustion was pulling at him from outside his body? From the direction of Flora’s room. He tried again to focus on the presence of the tether. It was faint and constant, and as he gave it his attention, the sensation of weariness increased dramatically.

It was Flora who was overwhelmed. Flora whose exhaustion he was feeling.

Cassius sat up with a snapping movement. The physician might have a point when he accused Cassius of being in trouble. The distance tether was bad enough. A direct link into Flora’s emotions was a level of connection he couldn’t afford. He was imagining it, nothing more.

If only he could climb straight into bed. But his mother wouldn’t accept either arduous travel or arrow wound as justification for missing the spectacle that was a court dinner.

His personal preparations were frustrating and time-consuming. He had to ring for a servant to assist him thanks to his injury. But eventually, he strode out into the corridor, ready to face the ordeal.

He found Flora waiting for him, standing attentively in the small stretch of wall between the door to his receiving room and the door to hers. She’d been quick, presumably with no one to help her. He’d given her no guidance on how to dress, but she’d chosen perfectly. She’d replaced the ripped and bloodied purple tunic with one of a deep gray, similar to the color worn by the guards outside Cassius’s door. It would allow her to blend into the stone of the castle wall. Other than that change, she was dressed similarly to before, with attire that had the appearance of a uniform but didn’t actually bear the Siqualian insignia. She had a short blade at her side—again, proclaiming herself a guard—but wore no other weapons, appropriately for a dinner.

He studied her, disregarding the scrutiny he could feel from the guards outside his door. To Cassius’s irritation, the departing servant who’d assisted him gawked openly at Flora as he scurried down the hallway.

As for Flora, she held herself rigid, but she looked weary. He had the impression that with the slightest release, her form would sag at once.

“How are you faring?” he asked her. “You’ll be glad to sleep, I’m sure.”

“I am fully ready for duty, Your Highness.” Nothing could be more formal than her tone and posture.

Cassius frowned at her stiffness. The more she tried to present the image of being nothing but a guard, the more absurd the whole situation seemed. They’d already shared far too much to classify their relationship as that of a prince and a random member of his guard. And he would never employ a female guard, anyway. It was one thing for Princess Miriam to have one. It would be inappropriate for Cassius for multiple reasons.

One of those reasons was the protection of her own safety and dignity, of course. The thought was uppermost on his mind as he saw how openly one of his guards was staring at her. The man’s eyes were a little too calculating as they raked over her form, and Cassius cleared his throat.

The guard’s gaze flew to him, then straight ahead, discomfited at being caught staring. Cassius sighed. The task of protecting Flora’s honor was one he didn’t want on his plate. But no one else was going to do it .

Deciding it wasn’t the time to argue with Flora about the appropriate level of informality between them, Cassius strode off in the direction of the largest dining hall. There was no way his mother would have opted for an intimate dinner when he’d just arrived back from a journey. Any excuse for fanfare was enough for the queen.

His two guards—and Flora—followed close behind him as he traversed the familiar hallways and entered the dining hall. As expected, half the court seemed to be gathered, everyone determined to greet him and exclaim over the shocking attempt on his life.

Over and over he clarified that there was no evidence to suggest the involvement of either Torrens or Siqual in the incident, but he might as well have saved his breath. Gossip had spread quickly, and most people seemed to have already decided that the attackers were Torrenese, whether official or not.

He suspected he knew who’d directed the rumors that way. His gaze was dark as it rested on Sir Keavling, speaking casually with a duke on the far side of the room.

Only once in the tedious process of greeting other diners did he find himself at the boundary of the tether. Flora had been shadowing him very skillfully, staying in range yet out of the way, but the dining hall was crowded, and sometimes it was difficult for her to avoid being separated from him in the crush.

The tug around his middle felt so much like someone had slid slim arms around his waist and pulled that he spun around, ready to confront whoever was grabbing him. There was no one there, of course, and his eyes found Flora across the room as he realized what had actually happened. Her expression was tense as she tried to navigate the crowd while remaining inconspicuous. Cassius took a few steps in her direction to make her task easier. Casting a glance around the room, he felt a jolt of unease as he found Sir Keavling’s eyes on him. The cursed man rarely missed anything.

The king took his seat soon after the awkward moment, and Cassius was relieved to be able to settle in one place. He approached Flora before he sat down.

“You’ll be able to find a free seat near the end of that table,” he told her, casting his glance subtly toward one of the long tables that were rapidly filling with courtiers. “It should be close enough.”

“No, Your Highness,” she said quickly. “I will take my place with the other guards, of course.”

He made an impatient noise in his throat. “Don’t be ridiculous. You must be starving.”

“I’ll eat later with the guards and servants,” she said.

He gave her a look. “And how will you do that, exactly? Shall I come along and stand in the doorway of the guards’ dining area? That will make for a jolly mood for all of the men trying to enjoy a meal during their time off duty.”

She bit her lip, clearly not having thought it through.

“Perhaps I can take some leftovers to my room.”

“Or perhaps you can eat now with the rest of us.”

It was entertaining to see the battle on her face as she struggled to maintain her guard-like air through the frustration that wanted to seep out.

“I’m a guard, Your Highness. Look at how I’m dressed. I cannot sit down to share a meal with the nobles of your father’s court.”

She had a point there. In fact, their conversation was starting to attract attention. When Flora moved smoothly toward the line of guards standing at the wall behind the king’s table, Cassius gave up trying to stop her .

He took his seat beside his father, unable to banish his awareness of Flora standing five feet behind him. It was unfortunate that she would be on her feet the entire meal when she was injured and exhausted. He would need to retire early for her sake.

He soon decided that leaving the dinner would be no great trial. He was outraged when his father waved Sir Keavling into the seat beside Cassius. Sitting beside the royal family? How had the man risen so much in influence during Cassius’s brief absence?

“What do you think, Sir Keavling?” the king asked as a platter of roasted pheasant was cleared from in front of him. “Will the Siqualians attempt to withdraw from the alliance? Or use it to their advantage?”

“Only time will tell, Your Majesty,” the advisor said. “For my part, I find it inconceivable that any kingdom on the Peninsula would hesitate to form an alliance with Carrack. Siqual’s king would certainly be foolish to turn down the opportunity to ally himself with our kingdom before one of the kingdoms of the continent seeks to do so. Such a situation would make an alliance with Siqual unnecessary.”

“No kingdom of the continent has ever offered us an alliance,” Cassius said flatly. “On the contrary, their borders are closed to us. It is mere fancy to speak as if there is a competition for our favor between the continent and the Peninsula.”

“You are ill informed, Cassius,” King Aelius said. “You forget that Sir Keavling has spent considerable time on the continent. He has information of great interest.”

The advisor inclined his head. “I know all too well how those on the continent look down on the region of the Peninsula. And regrettably the kingdom of Carrack is often classed with the less developed kingdoms to its south. But I can assure you that when those on the continent learn the true state of Carrack, they will hold my own view that it should always have been considered part of the continent, not the Peninsula.”

“That’s nonsense,” Cassius said impatiently.

“My son.” The king spoke lightly, but Cassius recognized the rebuke in his father’s tone. “Even your short time in the southern kingdoms appears to have had an effect if you speak so rudely to a guest at our table.”

He chuckled to mark the comment as a joke, and everyone in the immediate vicinity laughed politely. But the mood was tense. The constant talk of potential conflict with the neighboring kingdoms was bound to create uncertainty. Suspicion toward the other kingdoms was nothing new. The suggestion of impending conflict was.

“Are we to speak of nothing but matters of state?” the queen scolded from the king’s other side. “Surely there are more pleasant topics.”

“My apologies, Mother.” Cassius pushed his chair back. “I am poor company tonight. Whatever other effect my time in the southern kingdoms may have had, the travel has succeeded in wearying me. I will retire.”

His mother didn’t look pleased, but Cassius was past caring. His head was throbbing, his whole body ached, and if he stayed much longer, he’d say something to Sir Keavling that he’d regret.

He took his leave and moved toward the door, Flora walking discreetly behind him. With a gesture, he sent back the guards who were following. Those on the night shift would be in position outside his rooms by now. He didn’t need a pair flanking him through the corridors.

As he neared the door, he heard Sir Keavling’s voice .

“His Highness desires to see the best in others, even the southern kingdoms. It is an admirable quality.”

Cassius scowled, but didn’t turn around. In a few more strides, he was out of the dining hall and drawing in a long, steadying breath.

“I don’t like him. At all.”

Flora’s frank declaration caught him by surprise, and the ghost of a laugh rose to his lips as he turned to look at her.

“That makes two of us.” He kept his voice low. “Come on.” He gestured to her. “Walk beside me.” He saw her hesitate, and he pinned her with a long-suffering look. “Please don’t be difficult, I’m too tired to argue with you.”

She seemed to be fighting a smile as she moved forward to walk beside him as instructed. The halls became quiet as they moved away from the dining hall, where the activity of the castle was focused.

“Who is Sir Keavling?” Flora asked. “And why is he spouting nonsense about the history of our region?”

Cassius made an appreciative noise, glad once again of his request that she speak freely when they were alone. Her plain speaking was a balm to his soul.

“I don’t know the why, but I doubt it’s an innocuous reason. As for who he is, he’s a recent addition to my father’s court. Some months ago, he came into a title when his uncle died.”

“His uncle was a nobleman?”

“Yes,” said Cassius. “His holdings are far from the capital, and he’d never come to court that I’m aware of. His sister was Sir Keavling’s mother. She married an untitled man from the continent and her family cut her off, with the result that Sir Keavling spent a considerable part of his life outside of the Peninsula. As a result, my father takes his perspective on matters pertaining to the continent very seriously. He has rapidly become a favored advisor on certain matters.”

“I suppose he was able to prove his claim to the title?” Flora asked.

Cassius nodded. “He had extensive documentation. He speaks as though he is Carrackian, but…”

She frowned. “But you question his loyalty. I don’t blame you. Still, whichever side of the border he’s from, he has no excuse not to know the history of the region. The division between the Peninsula and the kingdoms of the continent has nothing to do with how primitive or otherwise our kingdoms are. It has to do with the war we fought two centuries ago over sea-based trade routes. Carrack is considered part of the Peninsula because it allied itself with the Peninsula kingdoms and fought alongside them, rather than with the continent.”

Cassius nodded his agreement. “And I have no doubt Sir Keavling knows it. If the inhabitants of the continent consider us barbarians, it’s an attitude they’ve adopted because it conveniently matches their existing prejudice. The question isn’t whether he knows he’s speaking nonsense. It’s what his purpose is in rewriting the history.”

Flora shook her head. “I think I’m beginning to understand why you were eager to seal an alliance with Siqual.” She sent him a quick glance. “Why you are eager, I mean.”

Cassius gave no reply, uncomfortable with his own conflicting thoughts on the marriage alliance he’d fought so hard to orchestrate. They’d reached the royal wing, and would soon be within earshot of the guards standing at attention outside his door.

“Good night, Flora. I hope you can get the rest your body must be craving. ”

She gave him a smile that was a hint rueful. “Put it this way—I’m glad I’m not on duty overnight, because I have a feeling I’m going to sleep like the dead until sunrise.”

Cassius chuckled, his own thoughts echoing the sentiment. He lingered to watch her slip through the doorway into her receiving room, then turned to one of his guards.

“Go to the kitchens at once, and request that a hearty meal be brought to her room as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard bowed, then moved off.

Cassius cast one more glance at Flora’s door before closing himself into the sanctuary of his own suite at last.

Cassius woke to a servant pulling back his curtains. Sunlight streamed in, showing it was well past dawn. It wasn’t like him to sleep late. He hadn’t so much as dreamed all night long.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” His personal valet bustled into the room, his expression proclaiming his disapproval of the prince’s slovenly morning. “Are you aware that there is a young woman dressed as a guard standing outside your door?”

Cassius sat upright, clearing the last fog of sleep from his mind with a flick of his hair. Flora was already up? Had anyone thought to feed her? Probably not, as they would assume she had the option of eating in the servants’ hall.

“I wonder how long she’s been standing there,” he said aloud, feeling guilty over his extended sleep.

“I asked the same question, Your Highness, and she said she has been in position for two hours.” The valet sniffed.

Cassius felt irritation swirl. His valet was painfully loyal, but it wasn’t the first time he’d had reason to resent the older man’s tendency toward being interfering.

“Why were you interrogating her?” he demanded, as he pushed himself out of bed and crossed the room.

The valet’s arched eyebrow conveyed a perfect blend of confusion and offense.

“Interrogating, Your Highness? Certainly not. It’s my role to see to your needs and your wellbeing. I would consider myself remiss if I failed to disperse loiterers about your door.”

Cassius didn’t reply immediately. A servant had just filled his basin with clear, warm water, and he took his time in washing his face, then splashing some over his bare chest. He would have preferred to have time for a full wash, but he didn’t want Flora to be kept waiting even longer.

“It is not your role to oversee my guards,” he said at last, his voice muffled by the towel with which he was vigorously rubbing his face and hair. “I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”

The valet looked wounded, a demeanor that didn’t move Cassius at all.

“Very well, Your Highness. I did not mean to interfere.” He held up a thick, embroidered tunic to Cassius to test the effect, his eyes sliding surreptitiously to Cassius’s face as he did so. “But you say she is part of your guard? She didn’t wear the uniform.”

Cassius was having none of his playacting. He pushed the tunic aside with a shake of his head.

“Not that one, it’s too stiff. I’m thinking of going to the training yard. Something I can breathe in.” He nodded approval of the second option offered. “And as for the woman outside my door, I find it inconceivable that you haven’t heard through the rumor mill that she’s a Siqualian guard assigned temporarily to my protection as part of the pending alliance.”

The valet’s tone was reproachful now. “Your Highness, I would not so demean myself as to listen to the gossip of the serving girls.”

One such girl threw him a dirty look behind his back as she bustled through, clearing out the water basin. Cassius felt his lips twitch.

“And if I had heard such a tale,” the valet went on, “I would have found it difficult to believe, Your Highness. A young woman as a member of the royal guard?”

“It’s unusual,” Cassius acknowledged. “Perhaps less so given she usually serves as part of Princess Miriam’s protection.”

“But now she is on your protection, Your Highness,” protested the valet. “It is highly improper.”

Cassius stared silently at the older man until he saw the valet begin to wilt. Satisfied that the valet knew the subject was not to be broached with him again, he moved on.

“I wish to speak to my father as soon as I’ve eaten,” he said, striding out into his receiving room in pursuit of a pleasant smell.

“I will discover His Majesty’s whereabouts and send a messenger to alert you,” the valet said.

Cassius nodded, surveying with an approving eye the spread that had been left on a small table. It was more than enough for two.

“Excellent,” he said brightly. He nodded to a servant who was stoking the fire. “Please send in my new guard. She will not have eaten.”

“Your Highness!” the valet protested as the servant hurried to obey. “Surely you will not have her eat with you in your own rooms. A common guard? ”

“You may go now,” Cassius told him coolly, ignoring the comment.

Arguing with his valet in Flora’s defense would do her no favors. But if he’d been inclined to be open, he would have told the other man that whatever she was, Flora wasn’t a common guard. In fact, the puzzle of what exactly her life had entailed had been playing on Cassius’s mind. She’d perfected the manner of a guard, but it didn’t take much observation to see that she was playing a part.

It hadn’t occurred to Cassius until later how much she’d omitted from her tale about her studies with Princess Miriam. He’d assumed she’d been born into poverty before she managed to win herself a place at the school thanks to her talent and determination. But on reflection, he realized she’d never actually said that.

And the more time he spent with her, the less he was satisfied that her superior education was explanation enough for the subtle dignity of her manner.

In particular, her outburst the day before came to mind, when she’d called him to account for speaking of her like an item to be bandied about between crowns. Her manner of speaking, even the words she’d used…they didn’t belong to a common guard. Or a common anything. She’d been so poised, even in her anger, and she’d spoken to him like an equal.

He supposed that should have offended him. The secret, guilty truth was that it had exhilarated him. He’d been mesmerized, and he’d never felt more drawn to her. She had a fire inside her that a casual observer would never expect from her stoic exterior.

All this ran through his mind as the door opened and Flora walked in, the valet casting her a last disapproving look as he left the suite .

“You called for me, Your Highness?” Flora said.

Speaking of stoic exteriors…

“Yes, come in,” he said, gesturing to the pair of armchairs placed on either side of the small table.

Flora moved to stand behind one of them. Very guard-like.

“I gather you’ve been in the corridor for hours already,” Cassius said. “You must be hungry.”

“My needs are met, Your Highness,” she said uncomfortably.

Cassius sighed. She was impossible.

“That will be all, thank you,” he told the few servants still milling around. They didn’t seem to be actually doing anything. Anything beyond gathering gossip, that was.

Reluctantly, they all curtsied or bowed and left. Cassius strode to the door, closing it firmly behind the last of them.

“You know,” said Flora, before he’d even turned around, “sending out the servants will only fuel rumors of something untoward. Better to let them overhear than speculate on what they’re kept from hearing.”

Cassius paused, grinning foolishly at the door for a moment before schooling his features and turning around.

“There would be nothing for them to overhear if I let them stay. You force my hand because you refuse to speak to me like a human being unless we’re alone.”

She looked unimpressed, but it only buoyed his mood more. She was natural when it was just the two of them— only when it was just the two of them—and he was rapidly becoming very attached to her natural self.

“I can’t eat with you, Your Highness,” she said. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“It also wouldn’t be appropriate for you to collapse from hunger,” Cassius pointed out, dropping into one of the armchairs.

“No fear of that.” She eyed him and, to his surprise, her expression softened. “Thank you for sending food to my room last night. That was very considerate.”

“Yes, my magnanimity knows no bounds,” he said wryly. “I am the toast of the land for my generosity in not forcing those under my care to starve to death.”

“You’re being dramatic, Your Highness,” she said reprovingly. “And it doesn’t suit one of your station.”

He laughed. She said it very seriously, but he wasn’t fooled.

“Come on Flora,” he said comfortably, leaning forward to help himself to a pastry. “They’re gossiping about us anyway, we may as well take the opportunity to eat something while we discuss our situation.”

She unwound at last, moving around the chair and lowering herself into it with a feline sort of grace.

“I am hungry,” she acknowledged. “In spite of the dinner last night.”

“Yes, most of us aim to eat something every day,” Cassius told her innocently.

She ignored him, swiping the solitary spoon that had been provided for him and helping herself to a boiled egg.

“Please feel free to use my spoon,” he said politely.

“I will.” She was becoming more brazen by the minute, and he loved it. “I’ll take it as payment for your insistence on exposing me to the gossip of your servants.”

“There’s always gossip in a castle,” he informed her. “No matter how circumspect you are, it won’t stop people talking about the oddity of a female guard. I wouldn’t let it bother you.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Your Highness.” She sounded disgruntled. “I doubt you would suffer any real consequences—social or otherwise—even if everyone concluded you were having a dalliance with a servant. I’m the one who would be sanctioned.”

“You’ve told me in no uncertain terms that you’re not my servant,” Cassius reminded her. “And I’m wounded at your suggestion that princes think nothing of engaging in such… dalliances . Is that how the Siqualian princes conduct themselves?”

“I wasn’t commenting on the Siqualian princes,” said Flora with dignity.

“I could be excused for taking that evasive reply as confirmation,” Cassius pointed out.

That drew a chuckle from her. “I’d best give a plain answer, then. Prince Theodore, absolutely not. He’s far too honorable for anything clandestine. Prince Xavier…” She considered it. “He’d want you to think so. He certainly behaves with a great deal of license. But to tell the truth, in the year I’ve been serving Princess Miriam, I don’t think I’ve ever actually witnessed him doing anything scandalous. Or at least, not of that nature. He just wants to appear that way, I think.”

Cassius raised an eyebrow. “Why would he want to appear scandalous?”

“Oh, well…” A mischievous smile quirked Flora’s lips, the expression outrageously endearing. “I can understand it, but I’m not surprised you don’t. Not everyone wears the role of royalty as comfortably and capably as you do.”

Cassius blinked. “Was that…a compliment? It’s hard to tell with you.”

Flora just smiled more widely as she moved on to a piece of fruit. “Even princes need a bit of mystery in their lives. ”

“Especially princes,” he informed her. “My days are drearily predictable.” He thought about it. “At least, until I met you. I can’t say that being magically tethered to strangers is part of my usual predictable routine.”

“Or mine,” Flora agreed. “Which brings us back to the topic you claimed you wanted to discuss.”

“Yes.” Cassius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My first priority must be to seal this alliance. You’re intelligent enough to make sense of what you’ve already seen, so I’ll speak openly. I expect to have my work cut out for me to convince my father that an alliance to strengthen the Peninsula will still serve our interests best.”

“Yes, he’s clearly partial to Sir Keavling’s views on the matter,” Flora said thoughtfully. “You won’t get anywhere with that man in the room.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Cassius nodded, pleased. “I’m awaiting a messenger to tell me where my father can be found, and I intend to speak to him first thing.”

She glanced out the window. “I think we’ve gone past first thing some time ago.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation.

“Enter,” Cassius called.

The door opened to reveal a young boy, who bobbed a bow before informing them that the king was in his study.

“Perfect,” said Cassius, standing. As soon as the messenger was gone, he added, “That’s a sufficiently small space. You’ll be able to stand outside the room without pushing the boundary of the tether. I’ll have most success with my father if we’re alone.”

Flora nodded, straightening her garment—a jerkin that extended into a skirt of sorts—and hurrying to stand behind him. Cassius paused, strangely reluctant to open the door and end their tete-a-tete. Giving in to an impulse, he reached out toward Flora, using feather-light fingers to touch the lumpy section of sleeve that indicated a bandage was hidden underneath.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked. His voice sounded husky to his own ears, and he hoped she didn’t notice it as his hand hovered over her arm.

She didn’t immediately answer, her eyes startled as they met his. She bit her lip, and it was all he could do not to follow the movement with his eyes.

“It’s much better today, Your Highness,” she said, the softness of her voice at odds with her guard persona.

He nodded, pulling his hand back. “You’re not in pain?”

“Not significantly,” she said. “Are you?”

“No.” Pain was the last thing on his mind at that moment. “Come on,” he said, wrenching his gaze away from her and seizing the door handle. He needed a clear head to manage his father.