Category: Interludes

Interlude: Elsewhere, Magic Awakens

The Wolf King

King Raniere of Rastan dismounted his horse and slung his bow over one shoulder, and checked his knife on his hip. He hadn’t hunted in a year and it felt good to be back to it. The stag was near, he could feel it, in his bones, the way he always could, the way his brothers always could.

He’d gone out alone this time though, he needed time to think. Kristoff had asked to go to Phania, again, but he still had no word from Daniel on an invitation. He hated keeping his brother from the woman he loved, but Kristoff’s stormy mood wasn’t worth snapping the fragile string of their alliance with Phania. Rila was nagging him about Gregor, who’d gotten into another brawl in the school room, while Richard and Mikhail had sent a tenth governess in fourteen months packing. His sister mothering their youngest brothers was soothing her, for the moment, but he could feel her about to shatter, she’d soon tire of it, and he knew it. A restless Rila was bad for all of them. Nikolai had disappeared into an affair with a trader from Failon and they hadn’t seen him in a month. He was tired, and his family was wearing on his last nerve.

And none of that addressed what the hell he was going to do about Annalise, and the way her marriage to Eric would place her in a greater position of power he was fully comfortable with, especially without a strong alliance.

He glanced up at the moon and took a deep breath, and saw the stag standing before him, too far to shoot, he ran rather than go back to the horse, his feet padding against the snow and his body moving swiftly, he smelled it, heard it’s heart, his body lengthened, his hands fell in front of him and he ran, feet and hands gone, they were paws now, his senses heightened, and he leapt as he caught his prey by the throat.

The Handmaiden

Talia Warwick sat on the back deck of the villa on the beach, a parting present from Prince Eric, much better than the gowns or jewelry her other “suitors” presented her with. His way, she’d realized, of letting her know that what was between them had mattered to him as much as his forthcoming marriage did.

She gasped as rising out of the seafoam in front of her were two women. No, not women, though they were female, naked, their skin shimmering between green and blue, with large silver wings that matched the color of the foam, they regarded her, one nodding solemnly, and the other raising her hand in greeting.

“Hail sister,” she said, her voice sounding like an echo.

“Hail,” Talia said, terrified, and in disbelief that her voice worked at all.

“We go to serve and save our queen, now,” the other said with a wild smile, “you will do the same?” Talia nodded.

“Until my last breath,” she said. They nodded, and flew off.

Talia knew that didn’t mean Elana. She’d never sworn herself to Elana.

Talia had been born to see Karina crowned and to serve her.

The Serpent & The Princess

Jaden Larsen stood in the crow’s nest scanning the horizon. He glanced down at the deck and saw Princess Karina arguing with the Admiral again.

“We will go where I say,” Karina said. “I want to go to Dovetail.”

“I don’t take my orders from you,” Franz growled and Jaden climbed down to meet them. “Your father is indulging you even allowing you on this ship.” The Princess glared at the Admiral.

“I haven’t heard from Lady Katrin since she arrived in Brightcoast,” Karina hissed. “I want to know why.”

“You haven’t?” Jaden said. She looked at him. He hadn’t heard from Kat either, but Karina not hearing from her was more troubling. She shook her head.

“Princess, I cannot invade Cammadan on your whim,” Franz said. “Lieutenant, explain to her.” Jaden nodded and he marched away.

“Something is wrong,” Karina said. Jaden nodded. “Something has shifted, I can feel it, and I need to see Kat, I need to.” He took her hand. “Kristoff is in pain, I can feel that too. It’s too much, and it hurts.” Karina had always seen and understood things that she maybe shouldn’t. He and Kat had talked about it, if something had shifted she was feeling even more and from at a distance, he didn’t know how to help.

“It’ll be alright,” he said gently, “I promise, Kari, I do,” she nodded and they heard a shout from the edge of the deck.

“Living gods!” The sailor said, they ran to the edge and saw it. A gigantic golden serpent had risen out of the waves.

“Goddess,” Karina mumbled. Jaden looked at her. “They did it.”

“Who?” He asked. “And what?”

“Annalise and Marina,” Karina whispered, “they freed the gods, magic is back.”

“Magic never went anywhere,” he frowned. Karina smirked at him.

“Old Magic did, my family’s,” she exhaled. Jaden shuddered. The thought of that chilled him, though it seemed to comfort the Princess.

The Shadow Queen

Delia Bettencourt sat quietly in the dark room, the shadows she’d commanded all her life, dancing around her. They were playful today, excited and a little wild.

“Delia,” the door opened, Lord Andrew Bryant, the man who’d raised her walked in. His dark hair was combed and he was dressed in finery. “What is this?”

“They’re unruly,” she sighed. His blue eyes met her grey and she pulled the shadows in. “What is it?”

“They would like to speak with you Princess,” he smirked. She nodded and followed him outside the room. “Has something happened?”

“I haven’t seen anything since that evening I was pulling to Annalise,” Delia shook her head. “Why?” They entered the parlor and Wyatt and Morgan Allred were sitting. Of course.

“Princess,” Count Allred smiled at her.

“Count,” she said coolly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We’ve been told that Annalise is in Westran,” The Count said. “And she is bringing the Phanian prince with her.”

“And this means?” Delia raised an eyebrow. Gods, Allred was tedious.

“Delia,” Andrew said gently, “It means your time is coming.” Her shadows danced on her finger tips.

“My time?” She said. “I thought you wished to crown the other one,” Allred cleared his throat as she made her shadow dance around him. “What made you change your mind?” The count swallowed, and Lady Morgan’s eyes were wide. “My darling niece seems to have accomplished her goal. Perhaps you should adjust your plans.” She circled the black shadow around his neck.

“N-no, Princess,” Allred stuttered, “I am your servant.” She smirked and pulled the shadow in.

“Good,” she rose. “Get me my crown, then.”

The Dragon Rider

The girl in the shabby brown dress, her red hair tied on top of her head in a messy knot, heaved the bucket into the water into a trough when she heard the wings beating above her, a sound like thunder and rain, but steady in a way they didn’t get out here.

“Living gods,” she whispered as the four creatures, scaly like the lizards that sunned themselves on the rocks in the desert, but large bat like wings and four legs, and long tales and claws flew by. Three flew off into the sun but one, a deep purple like a quartz, and horns the color of amber, with glowing yellow eyes to match landed before her.

“Hello Danna Finn,” it’s voice boomed loud and deep. “I have slept for centuries and was glad to wake and know you were here.” She blinked.

“You know me?” She asked. The beast bowed it’s head.

“I have waited for you since I was hatched,” it said, “and dreamt of you while I slept,” she exhaled, “and known you since you took your first breath.”

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head. Her Da had told her stories of such creatures, and the brave folk who rode them, but those people were heroes, magicians and kings. She was most certainly not any of that. “I’m no one.” It snorted, as if amused.

“You are Danna Finn,” it said simply, “and you are mine. I am Seshi, Lord of Dragons, and I have claimed you, at last.” She looked at the dragon and reached out and stroked his nose. “We will speak again soon.” He purred and then took off into the sky.

“Danna,” the angry male voice called from inside. “What’s taking so damn long?” She exhaled. She’d spent too long in the sun, she was hallucinating. That had to be it.

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Interlude: Lefty

Damian Lestoff exhaled and gripped Nikolai’s hair as the Prince of Rastan took him into his mouth. They were leaving in the morning and Lefty had dodged Nicky’s sister to make this rendezvous occur.

He’d enjoyed Rila during this visit and he knew the royals saw him as little more than a shared toy, but he’d play back.

“Gods, Nicky, that’s good,” he mumbled before letting out a groan, pulling away and finishing with a grunt. He fell back against the bed.

“Couldn’t let you leave without having some fun,” Nicky laughed sliding up and kissing him.

“I’ve had plenty of fun,” Lefty smirked. “Your sister is very accommodating.” Nicky huffed.

“Please don’t talk about my sister while I’m holding my cock,” he said, “you could stay.”

“Eric has orders,” Lefty shrugged. “He’s supposed to marry Annalise.”

“Mm,” Nicky kissed him and pulled close, “then he and Raniere will both be kings and can sit around all their lives comparing their crowns.” Lefty laughed and kissed him and wrapped a hand around his cock and began stroking. “Unh,” Nikolai exhaled.

“What’s your stable boy going to say about tonight? Hm?” Lefty teased.

“Ash isn’t,” Nikolai grunted, “a servant. He’s the best damn breeder and racer in Rastan.”

“As you say, Your Highness,” Lefty laughed and kissed him. “But you didn’t want him tonight? He could have joined us.”

“I don’t want to share you,” Nikolai growled. That was bullshit. Lefty had felt it while his lover tossed him to his sister. Nikolai got off on the idea that Lefty was desired by others in his orbit but would always come back to him. “I want to be in you, Damian.”

It had been a mistake to invite Nicky to call him by his first name. It was too intimate, it made him melt. He rolled over, rose up on his knees and Nikolai came behind him and kissed his neck.

They’d arrived in Cammadan, in Dovetail. Navigating the river into the dug out lakeside port had at least been a challenge but Lefty already felt like the city was cutting off his air. He needed to see the south sea, breathe it in, and bathe in it.

“Dress uniform,” Eric said walking into his cabin. Lefty raised an eyebrow at him.

“For you and Raymond, certainly,” he shrugged. “I’ll stay here.”

“Lefty,” Eric met his eyes. “Please, I need you for this. I have no idea what I’m doing.” Lefty smirked.

“Are you asking for help, wooing, little brother?” He sat up.

“No,” Eric said flatly. “I’m asking you to put on the damn uniform and stand next to me.”

“The secret,” Lefty grinned, “is to listen. Pay attention, make her feel as if she’s the only woman in the world. That you would die for her.”

“Annalise is a queen not a tavern wench,” Eric said with a sigh, “and she needs a husband not an orgasm.”

“Dunno,” Lefty said with a shrug, “thinking how frustrated Elana gets and how frosty your other brother is, she might need both.” Eric stared at him placidly.

“Are you done?” Eric raised an eyebrow. Lefty shrugged and stood up. “Don’t disrespect Elana that way, first of all, and second of all, if you really plan to seduce the Dugarry girl, you’d at least better try to look your best.” Lefty laughed and Eric turned to leave.

“Eric,” he said and his brother stopped. “It’s going to be fine.” Eric smiled softly, and nodded.

Lefty dressed and came above board quickly. He looked to the dock and saw her a froze. A daughter of Tumona, undeniably, her dark curly hair pulled off her face in a knot, dressed in a simple blue gown, standing beside a handsome white man with red hair who’d made her laugh.

That must be her. Eric’s queen. And Lefty wanted her, more damned him.

He’d never been happier to be wrong. Not that it changed much. No matter how much he wanted Duchess Marina SanPierre he couldn’t have her. But at least he wouldn’t have to watch her with his brother, wed him, bear his children.

At the ball that night he watched her, twinkling and flirting, her white gold gown revealing her neck and shoulders. Goddess, he wanted to kiss that neck, strip the gown off her and run his hands over her body and make her coo and sigh, melt into him and beg.

Two guards watched her every move, Dugarry, with some kind of leery protectiveness, and another, dark haired and soft looking with a sort of pained longing. She’d argued with him earlier, on the balcony and it had been subtle but he’d noticed.

He’d managed some conversation, perhaps even to flirt, but when her bright brown eyes fixed on him, in a sort of confusion he felt himself shrink. Her confusion was kinder than disgust, but she surely knew who he was and considered him well beneath her notice. Even if she weren’t the single most beautiful woman he’d ever lain eyes on, she was a duchess. He was the spawn of a ferryman and a whore.

After the ball he made his way back to the apartment where they’d put him, Eric and Raymond. Raymond was sitting on the balcony his feet kicked up.

“So,” Lefty leaned against the door, “what do we think?” Raymond looked at him sardonically, resembling his sister more than made Lefty comfortable.

“The queen is hiding something,” Raymond said. Lefty nodded, he’d gotten that sense too. Annalise had been friendly, but was clearly keeping Eric at arm’s length. Raymond eyed him. “The Duchess was involved with one of the guards but it apparently has ended.”

“Tristan Dugarry?” Lefty tried. Raymond shook his head.

“The name being gossiped about was Santino,” Raymond shrugged, “Dugarry is with the queen, apparently.” That was a complication.

“Do you think that’s the secret?” Lefty said. “She has a lover?” Raymond shrugged again. “Eric won’t like that.”

“No,” Raymond agreed, “he won’t.” He looked down. “What else do you want to know about her?” Lefty grinned at his friend.

“What else were you able to find out?” He asked. He wanted to know everything about her.

He’d made her laugh, when he’d asked to kiss her, she hadn’t said no, he watched her, something was happening with Dugarry, but he wasn’t sure what, and now, she was asking to dance with him, and flirting and gods, he wanted her so badly.

“Were I to compare the light I’ve seen in your eyes to the stars,” he whispered seductively, “the stars would be found woefully in adequate,” Marina swallowed and met his eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating, she was so bright, so stunning, he lips curved up into a smile, and she burst into a laugh. He blushed.

“And this works with most girls?” She said incredulously. He smirked.

“Yes,” he admitted, “but as I said, I’ve never been with a politician.” She paused then and leaned close. Too close, so close. Rana save him, let him have this, even if it was only this, as she kissed him. “Well then, perhaps I should stick to the stars,” he managed to mutter when they parted. She giggled again and kissed him again. He gathered her into his arms. It was enough, this moment, it would be enough, he swore.

She could never be his. He knew this. But he could have this moment with her, innocent, perfect.

She’d been standing on the dock like one of the Glora and he’d brought her on board, below decks, to his cabin.

“Have you had a lot of girls here?” She asked. Her voice light and teasing. But something was wrong, her eyes were heavy, the light sharp.

“Here,” he said, “you’d be the first.” She smiled and settled on the bed. “You seem preoccupied.”

“Distract me then,” Marina said. A challenge. He crawled on top of her and kissed her deeply.

“I’m in deeper trouble with you than I’ve ever been in my life,” he admitted.

“I’ve known this kind of trouble before,” she whispered back. “It’s the other thing for me.” They kissed again hard. “Be patient with me?”

“Forever,” he cooed. She nodded and they kissed more, hard, fevered, “Marina,” he said as he slid his hands over her thighs. The heat between them rose, unbearable, but also impossible to resist.

“Love me, please,” she whimpered. They kept kissing. “Love me, touch me, I need you.” It was too much.

“I do love you,” he whispered, “forever, I need you, love you.” It was a vow, he realized. There was no one and nothing else, just Marina.

“How tedious,” Brayton Dovetail smirked pushing him aside. Damian felt himself choking as the shadow consumed him. A laugh, distant, female, soft, and then sharp, like a needle.

“Who do you think you are Damian Lestoff?” The Dark Lady appeared before him. “To stand in the way of those that I ordained be together.” He gasped.

“I love her,” he whispered. “She chose,” Amina laughed.

“You can do nothing for her,” she said, “even now, she dreams of leaving you for another of mine.” He swallowed. “You cannot protect her from her destiny.” He fell back and light bloomed in front of him.

“Don’t let go of my hand, Dami,” his mother’s voice said. “Don’t you dare.”

He jolted awake and Marina was sitting beside him and wiped his forehead.

“Hello my love,” he whispered. She smiled softly. Already she dreams of another one of mine, he wanted to hold her close, to shelter her. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t hold her back, even if it destroyed him.

Marina was lounging, naked in the apartment in Rastan. He looked at her as he rose to get dressed. His relief these past few weeks at being near her again was starting to subside and he was starting to notice her. How she’d changed and how she hadn’t. She’d grown more beautiful, her body softening into irresistible curves and the light in her eyes playful and sharp. Her shyness was almost completely gone, though he watched her deploy it strategically with Rastani courtiers, and even with the royal family. When he’d first fallen in love with her he’d seen that side of her, political, intelligent, cunning. And yet it was still tempered by her unending kindness, that light of compassion that lit everything she did.

“You don’t have to go yet,” Marina whispered. He looked at her and smiled.

“You have to get ready,” he said sadly. “Raniere is waiting.” She sighed and played with the cover.

“You’re upset about it,” she said. “That I like him.” He sighed and sat with her.

“I never expected you to not like him,” he said, “I don’t like this. You’re not safe. I hate that Brayton is always watching you, that you ever have to see him, and I hate how he looks at you.” Her smiled curled, cat like, a little devious.

“And how does he look at me?” She asked.

“Like he wants you,” Lefty sighed. “Which he does.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t bother you.”

“Most men want me,” she said, “I’m used to it.” It wasn’t arrogance, he realized or even confidence, just fact. “They look at me, and they want my body, my beauty, my magic, my position,” he sat down and pushed her hair off her face. “Even you, my love.”

“Of course I want you,” he said, “I’ve wanted almost nothing else since I saw you for the first time.” She smiled. “It isn’t the same, I love you.”

“What if I told you I’d never lift a finger to help Pharras?” She said softly, “or my power threatened Kat? Or I’d been a good little girl and married Kieran Franz to ease the way for Annalise and Eric?” He drew back. “You wouldn’t love me then, but I bet you’d still want me.”

“I’d still love you,” he whispered. “That’s never changing, Rina, you could never do anything to make me stop loving you.” She kissed him again and pulled him close. “Marina,” he groaned. “Raniere will be waiting, Brayton,” she kissed him deeply.

“Let him wait,” she mumbled, “let Brayton tear his hair out trying to figure out where I am. I’m with you, this is us, nothing can touch us.”

He stared dumbfounded at the spot in the ice garden. Gone, simply gone, as if they hadn’t been here at all. He’d been so close, he should have struck, should have killed them, should have saved her.

She’ll never be safe with you, a voice in his mind, the one that had haunted for years, who are you to protect her? If you’d let her be she’d have been safe, her queen, her witch, they would have protected her.

“Lefty,” Eric was calling through his stupor, “Lefty,” he turned to his brother, “come on, we have to make decisions.” He stared straight at him.

“You do whatever you must,” he marched past him to his room and began packing. Carolina tried to calm him down, it didn’t work, but he heaved his sack onto his shoulders. He would prepare the ship, let the rest of them dither. Nika and Annalise would know what to do, he had to keep her safe, it was all he could do.

“Where is she?” Raniere’s voice was sharp, as he blocked him in the hallway. Lefty sneered at the king. “She did not simply disappear.”

“She did actually,” Lefty bit back. “With your advisor, in fact.” He laughed darkly. “Are you so blind, Your Majesty?” Raniere blinked at him.

“She wouldn’t,” he said, “he wouldn’t. I trust Braga with my life, and Marina.” Lefty barked out a laugh.

“You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” he muttered, “Brayton Dovetail has been spilling poison in your ear, and now he’s taken her.” Raniere stared at him.

“I have tolerated your presence in my home, and the disruption of it,” Raniere said, “because of my brother and sister’s fondness for you, but I will not tolerate,” Lefty stepped closer.

“Tolerate it or not, Your majesty,” he hissed, “I am going to find the woman I love and bring her home.”

“The woman you love,” Raniere said. Lefty glared at him.

“You’re blind, Raniere, and I will not waste a minute I could be helping her forcing you to see,” he shouted. “He tricked you, and lured her here with an offer she could not refuse for the sake of her home.” Raniere glared at him. The fight continued, but he wasn’t speaking rationally, he needed to get to her.

He sat by her bedside as she thrashed and screamed. He wanted to touch her, hold her comfort her.

“If she comes back from this,” Nika said gently appearing in the door, “it will be because you’re here.” He looked at her.

“I tried a million times these past four years to hate you,” he whispered. She smiled. “But from her letters she seemed so happy.” She exhaled.

“She wasn’t,” Nika whispered. “She ached for you every minute. She tried to hide it, I tried to ignore it.” She looked at her. “She loved me as much as she could, but her heart ceased being her own a long time ago.” He exhaled. “She won’t ever give Tristan up.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“I couldn’t accept it,” Nika said, “you were different, but him.” She looked down. “I don’t know, it seems silly right now.” He inhaled. “What will you do about the child?” He pressed his hands together and leaned his face into them.

“When my mother died,” he whispered, “and my father married Aimee, I became hers, because she loved my father and so she loved me.” Nika nodded. “I love Marina, the child will be hers, so I will love the child.” It was that simple.

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Interlude: Eric

He groaned as the large drapes opened and sunlight came streaming through the windows. The girl next to him twitched lightly. Ama? He was reasonably sure that was her name.

“You went through that whole barrel already?” Lefty scolded. Eric groaned and pulled his blanket over his head. “It took Lainey seven months to procure that rum for you Eric, it’s been a week.”

“Be sure to thank Lainey and tell her I would appreciate more,” he muttered. Ama woke and gasped, pulling the blanket over herself. “Oh, have you not met my brother, sweet one?” Lefty rolled his eyes.

“I apologize for startling you, Mistress,” Lefty said, picking her dress up off the floor.

“S’alright,” she whispered taking it from him. “Thank you m’lord.”

“Oh Lefty’s not a Lord,” Eric stretched. “Not yet, obviously, he’ll probably be a duke someday.” Lefty glowered at him and Ama ran out. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in Vacana, kissing Daniel’s ass?”

“Some of us had to find a way to live, Eric,” Lefty said, “you can’t go on like this.” Eric frowned at him. “You aren’t the only one who left someone behind.”

“It’s different,” Eric shook his head. His step brother raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Marina will wait for you.” Lefty sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“Marina is not waiting,” Lefty said. “She’s fully committed to Nika Averran.” Eric scoffed. “Annalise on the other hand,” Eric stood up and stretched.

“Annalise took five minutes before she pulled Harran back into her bed,” Eric grumbled. “She can’t be alone or at least doesn’t want to be. I’m taking her example.”

“She refused his proposal,” Lefty said. Eric shrugged. That didn’t really surprise him. When it came down to it, his Anya wasn’t going to marry anyone else. Unless Carolina Dugarry conveniently dropped dead. “Eric, when did you last write to her?” Eric exhaled. “And what did you write to her.”

“I told her the truth,” Eric shrugged, “that Daniel will not be allowing our engagement to move forward.” Lefty mumbled something. “What was that Captain?”

“You’re spineless,” his brother turned to him. “And you’re ruining three other lives besides your own.” He walked out and slammed the door. Lefty had been promoted a year ago, and somehow Eric had become the troublesome brother everyone worried about.

He was not fond of the switch.

“What has Dami so worked up?” His mother walked into the room. She sniffed the air. “Goddess, Eric, when was the last time you bathed?“

“Are you going to lecture me too?” He frowned. She sighed. “I told him that we weren’t going back to Cammadan.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, that’s his choice at this point.” Eric raised his eyebrows. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re being awfully foolish, but no one is forcing him to stay.”

“And me?” He said. She exhaled and looked at him.

“You, my sweet boy,” she said, “are being forced. Though I would imagine if you pushed at all, Daniel would relent.” He looked at his mother and nodded. “Regardless, this can’t go on, and we’re all going to Vacana, so I suggest you bathe and pack.”

“What?” Eric said as she stood up. “Mother,” he started.

“Your sister has asked that we come,” Aimee shrugged. “It’s bad enough Elana is insisting Kat remain in the household,” Eric sighed, “visiting when she asks is the least we can do.”

“It’s a great honor for Kat to be Karina’s companion, Mother,” he stood up and went to a basin and splashed his face with water. “I’m not going to Vacana.” Aimee shrugged.

“You most certainly are,” she walked out, “I had a Dream that you were in the temple courtyard.” She called over her shoulder.

“That could have meant anything,” he called back. But there was no arguing with his mother’s visions.

They’d been in Vacana a week and Eric was already tired of it. Tired of Kieran Franz glaring at him, tired of dinner after dinner with some bright little debutante next to him at Elana’s behest. The days were tolerable thanks to his nieces and Kat, but in the evenings even their company was denied him.

He hated the city, hated the way it made his mother shrink, and most of all hated what it wasn’t. Hated that it wasn’t warm, or light, or fun. That he didn’t hear Lefty’s laugh from across a hall coupled with Marina’s giggle. That he wouldn’t catch Annalise’s eye and be greeted by a wink. He hated that Vacana wasn’t Dovetail or even better Brightcoast. Blessed, wonderful Brightcoast, where he’d been happier than he ever thought possible.

“I didn’t realize I was so dull,” the girl next to him smiled. She had a soft gentle face, light brown skin and twinkling almost green hazel eyes. “Or shouldn’t I say such a thing to our Prince?” Eric smirked. This one had spirit, at least.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it’s been a trying few weeks.” She nodded, “Lady,” he started and she rolled her eyes.

“Talia,” she said. “Lady Talia Warwick.” He frowned.

“Brenton Warwick’s wife?” He asked. She nodded. “I was sorry to hear about him. We were cadets together, he was a good man.” Lady Talia smiled.

“He was,” she said softly. “Queen Elana was very kind to give me a place in the houeshold, I was going a little bit mad on my own.” He nodded. “You coming back here has unsettled things,” she popped a bite of the fish they were eating into her mouth. He raised an eyebrow. “They all want to marry you.”

“They will all be disappointed,” he said. “There’s only one woman in the world I’ll marry. Elana knows it, she shouldn’t encourage them.” She smirked.

“Is Queen Annalise so very singular, then?” She took a sip of her wine.

“Yes,” he said simply. “She is.” He exhaled. Lady Talia regarded him.

“You’re still in love with her,” she said.

“I don’t think I ever won’t be,” he admitted. “Her current paramour, Prince Harran once told her the gods cast for us. I’m less sure about her, but I know they did for me. Annalise is the end for me.” She smiled. “What?” He said.

“The honesty is refreshing,” she said. “That’s all.” He smiled.

“Were you in love when you married Brenton?” He asked. “Since we’re being honest.” He monitored the way she put her wine glass down, then lifted her napkin off her lap.

“It was nice speaking to you, Your Highness,” she said and stood up and walked out. Elana glared at him with a deep frown. Once dinner broke up, he was standing on a terrace and she walked out.

“You should apologize to Talia,” Elana said. He looked at her. “I thought you might like her.”

“Yaya,” he said and shook his head. “I did like her, but that doesn’t mean,” his sister in law glared at him. “I’ll apologize.”

“Good,” she said. “My brother wrote me Annalise and Harran parted.” He looked at her.

“Raymond would know,” he said. “Why are you tossing pretty widows at me, then?” He asked. She smirked.

“So you think she’s pretty?” She said. Eric sighed. “I can’t have you bringing tavern girls into the palace, Eric, and I understand your,” she searched for the word, “appetite, has become substantial. Talia is an elegant solution.” He stared at her dumbfounded.

“Is Lady Talia aware of this solution?” He asked. She rolled her eyes.

“She has no interest in marrying again,” Elana said, “but I know she’s lonely as are many others who visit.” Eric exhaled. “Your mother saw you in the temple courtyard.”

“Oh she mentioned that?” He said with a laugh. Elana shrugged. “I haven’t been to the temple since I went to Rastan before,” he picked at a piece of seaweed that had dried on the railing. “How would he react if I asked to go back? You know him best.” Elana leaned forward. “I’d think he’d rather punish Franz, than Lefty and me.” Elana glared at him. “When did it end, Yaya?”

“I’ve been faithful to your brother since we took our vows,” she said. “What happened before that is no one’s business.” Eric looked at her. “I love you, Eric, you know that. I’ve been patient, we all have. But I’m reaching my limit. I know Lefty has. Do you want to know what it looks like when Kat or your mother or Simon do?” He sighed. “And to answer your first, not rude question, if you asked, he’d likely say no, he doesn’t like how Annalise stonewalled him.” Eric raised an eyebrow.

“He ordered the ferries stop,” Eric pointed out.

“She refused to negotiate and placed a ban on the Dumanis coming to us,” Elana reminded him. He frowned. The Dumanis blockade had been hard on the Island. It had ended eventually and he wondered which twin he had to thank for that.

The next day he was walking to the water garden to meet up with Kat when he saw Lady Talia sitting with a book. He walked over.

“Can I help you?” She arched an eyebrow at him. Goddess, he did like her.

“I think I offended you last night and I’d like to apologize,” he said. She closed her book.

“You did offend me,” she said, “and I accept your apology.” He sat down with her.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you hadn’t loved you husband,” he said. “My dinner manners are obviously rusty.” She smirked.

“I’d heard that Camamdan’s court is basically one brawl away from a tavern,” she giggled. “So some adjustment must be made.” He threw his head back and laughed.

“They are a good deal less formal,” he said. “Though if I said something like I did to one of those ladies I’d probably have had a knife at my throat, so I am grateful for our more restrained temperaments in some ways.” She smiled. “But I am sorry, I should never have,” he exhaled, “it was a shameful thing to say about a fallen friend.” She looked at him and pressed a braid behind her ear.

“I did,” she said softly. He looked at her, “love Brenton. I loved him very much.” He smiled. “I didn’t expect to, our parents arranged it, but I did love him and then he died and it was awful.” She swallowed. “What went wrong with you and Queen Annalise?” Eric sighed.

“My brother decided he’d rather have a war than an alliance,” he said. She looked at him curiously. “And then because Annalise isn’t stupid that didn’t even happen.”

“And Captain Lestoff? Wasn’t he going to marry The Duchess of Brightcoast?” She asked. He exhaled.

“I would miss Lefty like missing a limb,” he whispered, “but he should have gone back to Marina a long time ago, he’s just punishing himself.” She looked at him. “You do understand why Elana introduced us?”

“I’ve been offered up before,” she said, “though the monster I was being sacrificed to was less appealing.” He looked at her. “You know what your sister in law is like, and my status is convenient for her ends. No husband, so no threat there, but my reputation doesn’t require the protection of her other girls.” Eric frowned at her.

“That doesn’t make it right,” he said. She shrugged and leaned back.

“What’s that got to do with anything? It wasn’t right when your father pressed you mother into marriage, it wasn’t right when Lord Brayton tried to take Cammadan’s throne, it wasn’t right that Brenton’s ship went down, it wasn’t right that you were pulled back here away from the person you love,” she sighed, “right or wrong doesn’t matter when things simply are.” She stood up. “I appreciate the apology, your highness.” He cynicism shocked him almost as much as the whole situation.

For all his show of disapproval Eric invited her to his villa for supper that evening, and to his credit a buffet had been laid out. But as it turned out she didn’t care for the pretense.

She didn’t speak a word and breezed past him into the bedroom. He chuckled following behind her and taking her by the waist and turned her face and kissed her.

“You’re sure?” He murmured.

“Yes,” Talia exhaled. He began to massage her breasts under her gown. She whimpered as he slid his hands through her laces and undid her.

“Before we go further, My lady,” he said, “I want to warn you my tastes are particular.” She was trembling as he tackled her back onto the bed. “And I’m not gentle.” She exhaled as he pressed her hands above her head and held her wrists down.

“I wish to please you, My Prince,” she demurred. “Do you want to bind me?” She teased. He smirked.

“Perhaps another time,” he said, “but I’m glad you’re open to it.” She shrugged.

“I like to play,” she whispered and kissed him. He pressed into her and took her roughly. She whimpered a little and thrust up, but mostly knew the game, and let him have her.

“When do you leave?” Talia lounged against the bed. He looked at her.

“I’m not going, apparently,” he shrugged. She raised an eyebrow. “There is apparently a worry about security.” She nodded. “I’m glad of it.”

“I thought you’d want to,” she said. “Isn’t Rainiere your friend? Surely you wish to support him?” He cupped her face and kissed her.

“Rainiere is sure of my support,” he said. “It’s for the best.”

“Is this about,” Talia started and then stopped. She looked away, “never mind.” He grabbed her chin.

“What were you going to say?” He said sharply.

“Is this about her?” She asked. He inhaled. “I’m under no illusions about what this is, Eric, but I won’t be your excuse to avoid something difficult.” He stood up and started dressing.

“It’s none of your business,” he said sharply. “Are you unhappy with your position in my life Talia?” She stared up at him. “If you are, I’m sure Elana can find another place for you.”

“Do not speak to me as though I’m other people.” Talia said simply, her eyes not leaving his. “I’ve heard what you whisper in the dark and I’ve let you put your hand around my throat, do you think I’d do that if I thought you the vicious, cruel, thoughtless creature they do?” He blinked at her, startled. “You can hide your heart, freeze it, even, but I know you. Hide from her for the rest of your life, if that’s your wish,” she stood up and pulled her dress on, “but don’t do it with me.” She walked out and slammed the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t understand, and he’d been sure that she did.

He sent her flowers by way of apology and the next night she’d come back. They didn’t discuss it further.

Eric wasn’t sure why he’d been expecting a warmer welcome in Brightcoast, but after Annalise’s initial embrace he’d found himself lost. He’d asked Lefty and Raymond to meet him in the apartment he’d moved into, though his brother remained stony and silent. But he needed to know the truth.

“Tell me about him,” Eric asked. Lefty rolled his eyes and Raymond glared at him.

“I’m not doing this,” Raymond said.

“Doing what?” Eric said.

“Emotional reconnaissance,” Lefty said. Eric gasped, offended. “Oh please, we all did it for each other for years, don’t act offended.” Raymond smirked.

“Anyway, who says I’m on your side this time?” He shrugged. “I like Prior, and he’s Evan’s family.” Eric scowled at him. “She was miserable for years and now she’s not, well, I mean, before this whole mess she wasn’t.”

“Does Talia know you’re here?” Lefty asked him. Eric looked at him. Raymond frowned.

“Who’s Talia?” Raymond asked. Eric sighed and pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Wait, you’re waltzing in here all, tell me about Annalise’s engagement, and let’s act like nothing happened, and there’s a Talia?”

“Karina and Kat didn’t tell you?” Lefty said. “Lady Talia Warwick, she’s a widow, she’s one of Elana’s ladies and she and Eric have been sleeping together for a year.”

“It’s different,” Eric shook his head. “And I gave Kat a a note for her.”

“It really isn’t,” Lefty said. “And you with the gods damned notes. Can’t you just have a conversation with a woman?” Raymond sighed.

“You’re seeing someone consistently?” Raymond asked. “Caro’s network said there were a lot of them,” Lefty rolled his eyes.

“Oh, there have been plenty,” Lefty said. “Talia’s just, more permanent, than the others.”

“You’re one to talk,” Eric said. Lefty shrugged.

“I’ve never pretended to be respectable,” he said, “or to be pining for my great love while having half of Vacana suck my cock.” Eric stepped up to his brother. “You’ve always judged her so harshly for finding comfort, but it’s because you think she’s like you. You think she’s distracting herself, playing until you two can complete whatever story you made up sitting on that lighthouse for all those years,” Lefty looked at him. “You’re so afraid that’s all you were to her, a plaything, a distraction. Like Talia was to you.” Eric frowned

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eric said.

“Because Tristan Dugarry sure as hell wasn’t disposable, or Harran and now Prior,” Lefty said. “So it has to be you, right? You’re the plaything, the one that doesn’t matter. Because if she’s like you, she couldn’t possibly love you and them.”

“I know she’s not like me,” Eric hissed. “That’s the problem.” Lefty smirked. “I love Annalise, I only love Annalise, I have only ever loved Annalise. And it’s not enough.”

“No,” Lefty said, “it’s not. And it took her a while but she caught on.” He turned and left the room.

“Huh,” Raymond said. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it in Rastan.” Eric looked at him. “He’s furious with you.”

“Yes, he is,” Eric mumbled. “Ray, I’m glad you’ve gotten everything you wanted,” Raymond looked down. “You’re a mastero and you have Evan, and I’m glad for you. But you understand that there was a cost.” Raymond looked at him.

“Yes,” Raymond said, “and I’m sorry that you were the one who had to pay it Eric.” Eric nodded. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Never said I would,” Eric smirked. Raymond exhaled.

“There’s not a lot to tell. He’s a good man, he’s been excruciatingly patient, and he stood by her. He’s a damn good fighter, the twins think he hung the moon, and even Aaron only questions her ambivalence, not him. Marina’s still in denial, but mostly because I think she thought she’d lose Lefty forever if you never came back. Now that that’s clearly not the case, when she comes back, she’ll likely come around too.” Eric looked at him.

“When she comes back?” He said. Raymond exhaled.

“Nika and I agreed,” he said, “we can’t, when we talk about her,” he closed his eyes. “She’s coming back, she has to come back.” Eric looked at him.

“Nika and you?” Eric said. Raymond nodded.

“We didn’t freeze for four years, Eric,” he said, “life happened. Nika and I are friends, we’re close friends. Marina and Annalise are my family, the same as you and Elana and the girls.” He stood up. “And Evan and Prior are too. Prior is like his brother, they’re so like you and Lefty I have to laugh sometimes.” Eric smiled.

“I hate that I missed it,” he said softly.

“Missed what?” Raymond said.

“When you became a man,” he said. Raymond blushed.

“So one of Elana’s seeds bloomed?” Raymond asked. Eric shrugged.

“Talia’s not like the others,” he said, “she’s not a simpering virgin who wants a tiara and she understands my,” he sighed, “limitations.”

“Uh huh,” Raymond nodded. “You have to tell Annalise.” Eric blinked at him. “She never forgave Harran, not really, for not telling her about Brea.”

“His wife?” Eric said, “I thought that was all after,” Raymond shook his head.

“Two years, before he came to Dovetail,” Raymond held up his fingers. “And not a word before he got her into bed and then Brea came here.” Eric swallowed. “Athena told Prior the one thing he can never do is leave her. You already left her Eric, if you also lie to her,” he shook her head, “or keep secrets, or make her feel like by loving Prior she betrayed you, it’s over. You know that, you know her.”

“I’m not in love with Talia,” Eric said. “It’s sex and companionship, and,” Raymond looked at him.

“And if you tell her she’ll understand that,” he said. “If you don’t tell her, she’ll never trust you.” Eric sighed. “She went to the manor, to help heal her uncle, you can probably find her on her way back.” He left.

Annalise had made it clear that she wasn’t making any decisions, but that conversation on the beach. Her certainty of her duty and she’d left him standing there. His hands hand found that pendant on her throat. She belonged to someone else now, she wasn’t his, if she’d ever been.

He looked up to her balcony at the palace and saw her looking down at him. He’d do what he could, he’d help save Marina, for Annalise and for Lefty, and he’d go home. Maybe marry Talia, if she was open to it. That would piss Daniel off. If Annalise could decide to make one of her pretty guards a king, why shouldn’t he make a noblewoman he enjoyed a princess?

He looked up and saw Annalise standing on her balcony.

And that was why. Because he’d always been looking for her. Always.

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Interlude: Debut

Note: Y’all, it’s Bridgerton Week! Which means I’ve been thinking in those terms and I just couldn’t help but spit out this little interlude about Caro’s debut. I also have felt like I wanted to flush out her and Alex’s friendship for a little while…

Carolina

I tugged at my dress as she stood in front of the guild hall. Mama had decided on a deep blue, trimmed in gold, and my hair was pinned up in a pile that felt like it was weighing me down.

“Stop fidgeting,” Mama said sharply and I swallowed and made myself still, like the stone reliefs around us. “I thought they were coming.” She sounded let down. I looked around the room. Most everyone we knew was here. Even people I knew didn’t like me very much, mostly here to speak with Papa of course, and some to get a peak at Emily.

I knew the truth, Emily was our family’s actual great hope, not me. But I’m older so I’ll do what I have to do for now.

“Who?” I asked her. She glanced at me and frowned. “Oh,” I sighed, “them, well, Alex said they were coming,” I muttered.

“All of them?” She asked. I shrugged. I had no idea why The DuManis hadn’t appeared and Alex had promised. Though whether that meant simply him and his mother and father, I couldn’t say. “Smile, Caro, honestly,” she exhaled, “you’d think you were being tortured.” I did my best to smile. Emily was standing off to the side with one of the Dutrin boys, carefully wrapping her hair around her finger and smirking. “Will he propose?”

“Mama!” I said sharply. “We’re friends, he’s mentioned other things, but,” she looked down, “I don’t know.” She sighed.

“It would be a good thing, Carolina, you must know that,” she softened her voice. “Think how pleased your father would be.” I nodded. Yes, marrying Alex, becoming Madame DuCray, eventually inheriting main control of The DuManis family interests, that would please him.

There were a thousand reasons why it was unlikely to happen, not least of which among them is that I’m reasonably sure Alex doesn’t look at me that way, and I know that’s not how I see him. I like Alex. He’s pleasant. But anything beyond that feels like a foreign country.

“She has to dance eventually,” Papa walked over. “What is the delay?” I bit my bottom lip.

“We’re waiting on the DuCray boy,” Mama said simply. “Is there anyone else?”

“New captain,” he muttered, “doesn’t signify, not if Alex is coming.” I nodded and the chamber doors opened, and they walked in, all of them.

The DuManis were stunning, when they put on a show, the whole city knew it. Lead by Chancellor Carland DuManis, the old man leaned only lightly against his cane, his blue and gold tunic striking, behind him were his three surviving children, their spouses and following after that the grandchildren. I smiled as they walked up, genuinely this time, as Alex had met my eye and winked.

“Miss DuKarras,” The Old Man stepped forward and took my hand and kissed it. “Congratulations,” I smiled gently.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” I said demurely. “It’s a great honor for you to have come, and quite unexpected.”

“Oh I doubt that,” Trey DuManis winked. “Tonight’s festivities were quite the discussion all week, Alex wouldn’t stop talking about it.” I was genuinely concerned Mama might swoon, and I felt my cheeks flush as Alex stepped up, all sandy blond hair and overly pleased with himself smile. I scrunched my nose at him.

“Missstress DuKarras,” he kissed my hand.

“Master DuCray,” I smirked back. “You’re late.”

“My apologies,” he said, “they love to make an entrance,” he whispered. I laughed and took his hand as the music started. “My mother is going to speak to your father.”

“Alex,” I said cautiously. He smiled congenially. “Are you sure?” He nodded.

“We both have to marry, Caro,” he said, “wouldn’t you rather be with a friend?” I exhaled. He wasn’t wrong of course. But the idea made my heart stop, being absorbed into the machine that was merchant life’s heart, The DuManis Family.

Six Months Later

I sat opposite the new one. I hadn’t bothered learning his name, he was Rastani, with cool blue eyes and straight blonde hair that he’d combed back. At least he was under forty, which was an improvement. Emily was pouting because Alex had left for Dovetail and I didn’t know how to tell her that I missed him too.

“What do you think, Miss DuKarras?” The suitor met her eyes with a satisfied smirk. “Do you think your girl queen is going to awaken a new age?”

“I’m sure it’s all very interesting,” I covered, with a sly smirk. “Though it will be strange, having a queen my own age.”

“Younger actually,” Papa pointed out. “You’re eighteen, Caro, the queen is seventeen.” I nodded. Another reminder that another year had gone by.

“Captain Arrain,” Mama asked, “do you plan to return to Rastan soon?”

“I had hoped to stay here in Dorin, actually,” he said, meeting my eyes. “As long as you’d have me.” I blushed a little.

After dinner I was sitting in the courtyard, Emily had dramatically taken to bed, and I wasn’t interested in going to comfort her. The quiet made a nice change.

“May I?” Captain Arrain walked out and sat with me. I nodded. “I’m glad to get to spend more time with you.” I eyed him and smirked.

“My father likes you, Captain Arrain,” I assured him, “you’ll get your contract without pushing for my good opinion.” He chuckled.

“No one mentioned you were clever,” he said, my heart beat. “I knew you were beautiful.”

“I’m not,” I shook my head. I was pleasant. There were beauties in Dorin, I wasn’t one of them.

“I was at your debut,” he said, “I knew then, I had to have you.” I blinked at him and he kissed me.

“Alex was courting me then,” I said. He shrugged.

“I was patient,” he said, “I waited out the Dumanis.” I smiled. We kissed again.

“Andrei,” I mumbled.

“Carolina,” Mama walked out and I drew back. “I think you ought to get to bed.”

“Yes Mama,” I said softly looking over my shoulder at him, Mama did not look pleased. He smiled at me.

He stayed with us two more nights, which was odd, the third day, I was walking past Papa’s office when I heard them arguing.

“I don’t like it,” Mama insisted. “He has nothing! She can do better.”

“She had one suitor who then went to Emily,” Papa said back. “It is done, Portia, Caro will marry Captain Arrain.” I smiled, I was wondering when he would propose. Would he take me to Rastan? I rushed to bed and lay down, hoping to dream of my handsome captain husband. The door clicked open.

“Emily?” I asked, but then I saw Andrei’s face lit by a candle.

“A disappointment?” He teased and walked over and sat down, pushed my hair out of my face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled and he kissed me gently. “Andrei, my parents.”

“Sweet one,” he laughed and kissed my neck, pushing my nightgown off my parents, “your father has agreed to our marriage.” I gasped as his hand moved down.

“Andrei,” i whimpered, “when we’re married, will you take me away?” He laughed and pressed me under him.

“Anywhere you like,” he murmured, pushing my nightgown up. “First home, though,” I bit my bottom lip. “You’ll love Rastan City, my beauty, it will fall at your feet.” He pressed into me. It hurt a little, but it was mostly, pleasant. “Oh Carolina,” he groaned. I closed my eyes tightly as he thrust into me. It didn’t feel like it was described in Emily’s books, or when I touched myself. There was no explosion of pleasure, no wave of overwhelming joy. It was vaguely pleasant, and Andrei seemed to be enjoying himself. After he finished he kissed me gently and held me throughout the night.

A few weeks passed, and I knew Andrei was in with my father, dealing with our contract, and at night he would come into my room and whisper that he loved me, that we would go to Rastan and he would make his fortune.

He left to get things settled. I begged him to take me with him. I didn’t need the whole society wedding, I just wanted him, to be his wife.

Instead I waited, and no word came. And I realized it was over.

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Interlude: The Parting Of The Ways

Olivia

She groaned in pleasure as Anton finished and the collapsed against her. She giggled as he rolled over and exhaled and looked at her.

“Gods, that was wonderful,” he said. She smiled and rolled onto her stomach and kissed him.

“It really was,” she said and stood up.

“Are you going somewhere?” He said. She looked over her shoulder at him, and went to the table and poured a glass of wine. “Get me one too.” She smirked and poured another and walked back to bed and handed it to him. “You should move in here.”

“My father would love that,” she said and kissed him. “He’s already taken to grumbling about this whole situation whenever it comes up.” Anton smirked.

“Does it come up often?” He asked. “Or just when he does ridiculous things like try to marry you off to Caleb Pantona?” She laughed.

“Caleb isn’t so bad,” she shook her head, Anton kissed the spot between her shoulder and neck. “Tom wrote me,” Anton pulled back.

“Did he?” He said. She nodded. “And what did he have to say?” She looked at him.

“He was promoted,” she said. Anton nodded.

“Livvie, not to denigrate what I’m sure was a fantastic letter, but you do realize that I am the Crown Prince, and I was present, when the decision to promote Tom was made?” He teased. “He’ll be a fantastic Commander, probably general someday.”

“It means more money,” she said, he nodded, “And a house on palace grounds. So he’s asked me to marry him,” Anton rolled onto his side and looked at her, “I’m saying yes.”

“Alright,” Anton said. “May I ask why?” She frowned.

“I love him,” Olivia said. He smirked. “People do fall in love, Anton. Tom and I have.”

“Maybe I’m in love with you,” he said. She barked a laugh. “It’s not a ridiculous notion. You’ve been my mistress for a year.”

“It is a ridiculous notion,” she said, “you’re asking me now because you’re jealous, not because you want to, you’ve had a year to ask.” He looked at her. “I have to marry, Anton,” he pushed her hair off her face. “This has been fun, really, but,” he kissed her.

“You sound like my mother,” he whispered, “you’re having your fun, but you must get serious at some point, Anton,” she looked up at him. “I don’t see why you marrying Tom means we have to end things.” She pushed him off.

“You don’t mean that,” she said. “It would kill him.” He sighed. “He loves you, he’d die for you.”

“And you love him,” Anton said, “and I love you, even if you don’t believe me,” she looked at him. “Seems like we all love the wrong person, Livvie.” She frowned at that. She and Tom never discussed it. What his feelings for Anton were. If they were anything beyond friendship, she was afraid to ask. But she couldn’t explain what being in love was like to someone who wasn’t, who hadn’t been. Her mind was constantly occupied by Tom, even when he was away, even during her nights with Anton. And when he was near, it took everything in her to not touch him, not talk to him.

She never felt that way with Anton. She loved their time together, the sex was mind blowing, but it wasn’t the same feeling at all.

“Why?” He asked. Olivia looked at him. “You said you have to marry. Why?” She looked at him.

“I don’t want to live with my father forever,” she frowned. Anton took her hand and kissed it.

“I’ve offered you a way out of that,” he pointed out. She smiled.

“I want children,” she said. Anton sat back. “And there it is.” He exhaled.

“I could give you children,” he said.

“Not without marriage,” she said, with a raise of her shoulder. “I won’t end up like Allison Bettencourt, shuffled off to some country retreat because ‘Dovetail bastards aren’t kept in the capital.'” He frowned. It had been a long time since they had discussed his father’s former mistress, a girl not much older than them, who’d fallen pregnant and subsequently been banished from court. Olivia had been disturbed by the whole episode, and Anton had spent a lot of time reassuring her that she had nothing to fear, he’d never let such a thing happen to her.

“I’m not my father, Livvie,” he whispered. She looked at him.

“No,” she said, “you aren’t.” He looked at her. “I understand if you never want to get married, Anton,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine looking at your parents it seems particularly appealing,” he nodded, “but in that case, you should spend more time with your cousin.” He groaned.

“Brayton is not the answer to this problem,” he shook his head. Olivia shrugged and pulled a robe on.

“He’s next in line after you,” she said, “if you’re not going to marry and have children, he’ll be king eventually.”

“Gods,” Anton muttered, “that’s troubling.” She laughed. “If this is a ploy to get me to marry you, it might work.” She sighed.

“It is not a ploy,” she kissed him softly. “I don’t want to marry you. I wouldn’t mind it, but I love Tom.” She pressed her forehead to his. “I think I’ll do better at Madame Martin than I would as Queen Olivia.”

“So this is goodbye, then?” Anton asked. Olivia nodded. He stood up and went and pulled a rope, that she knew called a servant or guard.

“What are you doing?” She giggled.

“You rang?” John Dugarry walked in. “Cornan save me, Anton please cover yourself. Hello Livvie.”

“Hello,” she giggled.

“Lady Olivia and require something very luxurious to eat, and some of that sparkling wine from Brightcoast,” Anton said. John sighed loudly.

“I’m not your butler, get your own damn wine,” he said. “And you should both know that toasting her engagement right after whatever you two just did is in terrible taste.”

“Oh, John, you don’t mean that,” Olivia pouted. He looked at her. “How did you know?”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. Anton had pulled pants on. “Tom has been asking me for months what I thought your answer would be.” Olivia looked at her friend.

“Really?” She blushed. Anton sighed. “Oh you’ll find someone else, stop being dramatic.”

“I won’t like her nearly as much,” Anton shook his head. “John, I was serious about the wine.”

“Anton, I was serious about not getting it,” John smirked.

“And what about you?” Olivia asked sitting down with him. “Are you going to Dorin soon?”

“Sometime this year,” John said. “My father is eager for the business to be done so he can wash his hands of Dumanis. He doesn’t trust him.”

“With good reason,” Anton shook his head, “Carlton Dumanis is merciless, my father calls him a thug in a velvet jacket.” John shrugged.

“Unless his daughter is also heartless, I doubt I’ll be through with him for most of my life,” John shrugged and poured himself a glass of wine.

Twelve Years Later

“I was so worried,” Olivia said opening the kitchen door and letting Anton in. He was holding Annalise against his hip, her little head leaned against his shoulder as she slumbered, “oh darling thing,” she whispered and took her. “Where is Marie?”

“We got separated,” Anton said, his voice cracking. Olivia looked at him. “I’m just telling myself that he wouldn’t hurt her, it’s the only thing keeping me sane.” Annalise stirred.

“I’ll send word to Trey first thing, he’ll find her,” Olivia said as they walked upstairs. Annalise stirred and woke up, her wide grey eyes stared into hers.

“Papa? Where’s Mama?” She asked. Anton cupped her face.

“She’ll be here soon, my love,” he whispered.

“For now let me take you to the nursery and you can sleep with Viscount Aaron,” Olivia said. The Princess stretched and yawned. “Sleep well, dearest,” Olivia kissed her. She hated this separation for Marie and Annalise. The idea of even a few nights away from Aaron made her feel itchy.

“Thank you,” Annalise said, “where’s Thena?”

“In Dovetail,” Olivia said softly, “looking after Mama.”

“Good,” Annalise said before snuggling and falling back to sleep. Olivia went downstairs and saw Anton sitting with Caleb.

“Did she fall back to sleep?” Anton asked. Olivia nodded.

“She asked for Athena,” Olivia sighed. Anton nodded.

“Are the Dugarrys coming?” Caleb asked.

“Not until we get Marie out,” Anton shook his head. “Alexia won’t leave her and John won’t leave Alexia and the twins,” he sighed. “Tristan is frightfully serious for a little one and Athena barely leaves Annalise’s side, I don’t think the separation will be good for anyone.”

“What about Anne and Les?” Caleb asked. “Last I heard they were leaving, but surely Marina’s a useful hostage, he would have tried to hold them back.”

“They got to Brightcoast,” Anton sighed. “Thank the gods. Marina can’t even crawl yet, I’m sure it was slow going.” Olivia smiled. “I shouldn’t have left the city.”

“She’ll be safe,” Caleb said. “You’re right that Brayton won’t see her harmed. Locked away maybe, but between John, Alexia and Trey we can work with that.” Anton nodded. Olivia always wondered what her former lover and her husband thought of each other. They hadn’t really ever been friends. But Marie and her brother adored Caleb, which covered a large swath of awkwardness. “Your son is growing well.” Anton snorted a laugh.

“Don’t even joke about it,” Olivia shook her head. Caleb looked at her indulgently. “They’ll use it against Annalise.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anton said, “even if Aaron were my son, which is obviously impossible, Annalise is my child, born with my wife, she’d be ahead of him in line.”

“She’s a girl,” Olivia said. “And half Phanian. If anyone were to take it seriously that Aaron might be your son,” she exhaled, “it’s been enough this time.”

“None of this is your fault, Livvie,” Anton said. She looked at him.

“We were reckless,” she said. “I was,” she picked at her skirt.

“That’s your father talking,” Caleb said. She looked at him. Reckless little slut, she could still hear him yelling, feel the sting of a paddle or whip or belt. “This will all pass, Olivia. Aaron won’t be a weapon.” She smiled at her husband, always knowing what to say.

“I know you won’t sleep, Anton,” Olivia said softly, “but you should try.” He nodded and left the room. “Something terrible is going to happen.”

“It’s already happened,” Caleb said, “we’ll find Marie, Olivia, I swear it.”

Six Months Later

“Olivia,” Caleb walked into the nursery where she was stroking the sleeping Annalise’s head. “Everyone’s here, we have to talk about it.”

“We can’t send her away,” Olivia whispered. He kissed her head gently. “She’s his.”

“I know, my love,” he said softly. “But it’s not only up to us.” She stood up and walked down to the study. Tom and Alexia and John were sitting waiting. Les and Anne had just arrived, Anne holding baby Marina in her arms.

“Livvie,” Tom whispered and she ran to him. Maybe it was wrong, Caleb was right here, but she wanted to hold him. Only he would understand. “I’m so sorry, my dearest.”

“Me too,” she whispered. “She’s staying here.”

“Just like that?” John said. “It’s an awfully final decision to make.” Olivia stared daggers at her old friend. “We all lost them, Livvie, not just you.” She suddenly felt terribly guilty, why did John have to see everything so clearly?

“Anton and Marie are buried here,” Les whispered, “that matters.” Anne squeezed her husband’s hand. “And Brayton trusts Caleb, or at least doesn’t distrust him.”

“What about your cousin?” Alexia asked. Les looked at her and inhaled.

“Elana has offered us safety,” he shrugged, “and I’ve written two letters. One accepting her, and the other saying that Annalise disappeared with Anselm.” Anne frowned.

“We don’t necessarily trust her, or Daniel,” Anne explained. “Especially since Cyrus has been failing, and the little prince died.”

“Not Aimee’s son?” Alexia asked.

“No, Elana and Daniel’s,” Anne said gently. “Stillborn, poor thing. Eric is thriving, which is almost more worrying.”

“They’ll want a betrothal,” John said. “Especially if she’s living there.” Alexia snorted derisively. “Oh, do you have an opinion on it, Lexi? Please enlighten us, you’ve never mentioned it!” Olivia almost wanted to smile, she knew it was grief and exhaustion fueling John’s mood but at least he was acting like himself. That was a comfort.

“Children shouldn’t be pawns in power games,” she said sharply to her husband. He looked at her. “We got lucky. Annalise and Eric may not.”

“Don’t let your father or Trey hear you talking that way,” Tom said. “They’re already cataloguing Athena’s dowry.” Alexia glared at him. “Annalise is already half Phanian and in hiding. I don’t think that being raised out of the country will help matters.” He lifted her face. “You want her?”

“Of course,” she whispered. He smiled gently at her. “She’s Anton’s daughter.” He nodded and looked at Caleb.

“Anything,” Caleb whispered. “Anything she wants.”

Olivia lay in bed that night crying softly. She had every night for a week. Caleb came in and sat down.

“Olivia,” he whispered, “you know I’ve never questioned you,” she rolled over. “I swore I never would,” she looked at him.

“Do you doubt me?” She whispered. He cupped her face.

“Maybe your heart, a little,” he whispered, “I’m not a saint, my love.” She smiled. “I’ve never doubted your faithfulness, and I’m not jealous by nature,” he trailed off.

“I loved Anton,” she said, “he was my dearest friend,” Caleb nodded. “And when we were together it was, well, it was like living in constant sunshine.” She kissed him. “But we weren’t in love, it wasn’t like that, between us. Nothing like this, like us,” he smiled. “But she’s Anton’s, she’s a part of him and I can’t have lost all of him, Caleb, I just can’t.” He nodded and kissed her again.

“Alright,” he said. “She’s ours then.” She smiled. “She’ll need a new name.”

“And a story,” she whispered. He nodded. “Is she yours?” He laughed.

“Years of you being unfaithful and suddenly I had a Phanian mistress?” He said. She smiled. “There’s a war, Olivia, there are plenty of orphans and everyone knows we wanted more children, an adoption wouldn’t be that strange.” She nodded. “It will be hard on Aaron.”

“To have a sister?” Olivia asked and snuggled into him.

“To have a secret,” Caleb whispered. She nodded.

“It is a little selfish of me,” Olivia whispered, “maybe Brightcoast would be better. Les is her uncle.” Caleb exhaled.

“That’s too dangerous,” he whispered. “She and Marina together,” Olivia exhaled. He was probably right about that. Caleb’s mind turned that way, it was remarkable, he always saw four steps ahead of her, and she usually saw six steps ahead of everyone else. “No, here is right, even with the bonus that it will make you happy.” She looked at him.

“I might still have another,” she said softly. He looked at hver.

“After Joseph,” he said softly, “I don’t know that I can do it again, Olivia.” She looked at him. “I love you, and we can keep trying, if you really want to, but,” he closed his eyes. “We don’t need it.”

“Poor Joseph,” she whispered, she’d at least gotten to hold him. Which was somehow better and worse than the miscarriages. He’d come too soon, he was too small, he could barely breathe. And she’d held him until he stopped. And then Caleb had held her. Had let her cry and scream and curse the gods, and then he’d wrapped their little boy in satin, and let her look away while they put him in the ground. But Caleb hadn’t looked away, hadn’t blinked, hadn’t faltered.

He never did.

“Lisette,” he whispered. Olivia looked at him. “Her name.”

“That came quickly,” she smiled.

“It was the one I had in mind,” he admitted, “if Joseph had been a girl,” he drifted off. “It’s like a part of Annalise, I thought it would be nice, to honor her,” she looked at him. The depths of this man.

“Lisette then,” she said. “She’s ours.” Caleb nodded.

Posted on by Reenie 0

Interlude: The Ice Maiden

Rila

“I won’t,” Rila stamped her foot, her father’s cool blue eyes stared back at her. She was sixteen, and felt like a child. 

“I am your father and king,” he said simply, “you will do as you are bid, daughter. Alcott has done me a great service and I will reward him.” Her nostrils flared. Her father had sold her, and everyone knew it. A loveless marriage was expected, she was Princess and marriage for alliance was normal but Lord Alcott was twice her age and notorious for his rapacious appetite for drink and women. 

“Father, maybe it can wait?”  Raniere, her oldest brother spoke up, Rila stared at him. “Rila is still so young. And Alcott has,” he swallowed, “specific tastes.” Rila looked at him. 

“This is not a conversation,” he said and stormed out. She sat on the couch and inhaled deeply. She wouldn’t cry. She simply wouldn’t. 

“I’ll fix this Rila,” Raniere said. She looked at him. 

“How?” She asked. “He’s made up his mind.” Raniere sighed. “Mama would have been able to talk him out of it, maybe. But it’s done.” 

“Rila,” Nikolai, her other brother said gently. She stared at both boys, her eyes burning with hatred. Nikolai cycled through his lovers with little thought. Raniere was going to have his choice of bride as a future king, and that didn’t stop him from more discrete liaisons with women at court.

It wasn’t fair and their pity was infuriating. 

“I’ll say just that,” Raniere assured her, “that Mama would never want to see you married to someone who would take you away. He knows Alcott rarely comes to court, stays up North with his hunting and his,” she bit her lip, “well, that’s not the point.”

“His women?” She said. “That’s what you were going to say. How is that different from any of you?”

“Well, I don’t have any women, to start with,” Nicky smirked.

“You and your boys then,” she scoffed.

“You aren’t helping, Nicky,” Raniere said. “I know it isn’t fair Rila, but I want to help.” She frowned at him.

“If what just happened is a display of your help, Raniere, you can keep it,” she said and stormed out of the room.

Rila lay in bed on her wedding night. Her husband had already come and gone, had his pleasure, and stumbled out into the night. For the first time in this whole ordeal she let herself cry. This was her life now, she realized, stuck in this stupid cold house, with a man who didn’t really want her at all, away from anything fun, or lively or interesting. 

In the morning she dressed and went to do what wealthy wives did, which was as far as she knew, write letters to people actually doing anything.

Rila,

Nicky says you’ll be lonely and so I wrote this note for you.

I miss you already and I want to see you soon

Mikail

She laughed, thinking of her sweet little brother, she flipped the note over and saw another one from Nikolai.

There’s one for every day of the year from one of us. Come back whenever you can, love.

-N

She smiled. 

1 year Later

Being back at court hadn’t settled her like she thought it would, though it improved things a little bit. She was worried, watching her youngest brothers, they seemed somewhat wild.

“Come on,” Nicky said one afternoon as she sat in her room reading. 

“Where?” She said. 

“Prince Eric arrived today,” he grinned. She looked at him. 

“Eric and his friends aren’t interested in me, they never were,” she went back to her reading. “Is that bear Kristoff wants to send to Princess Karina old enough?”

“You’re not fun anymore,” Nicky exhaled. She arched an eyebrow at him. “And yes, he’s very excited about the damn bear,” he plopped down next to her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with Ash now that they’re here.”

“I thought you were in love,” she laughed and he flopped against her lap.

“Well,” he said, “I am, but now Lefty’s back, and I know you’ve decided that sex is worthless, and given your marriage I fully understand why,” he exhaled, “but let me tell you something, darling sister, it can be spectacular.” She looked at him.

“How do you know he’ll want you, hm?” She teased.

“He always has before,” he said, “Come on, come say hello. They might even cheer you up. And now that you’re married and no longer a threat, Eric might finally be interested.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll come,” she said and stood up. Since she’d decided to come back to court, Nicky had been pushing her to start taking lovers. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t imagine the distasteful act her husband performed on her every few months was at all worth the risk to her reputation and body. 

She was so very wrong, she gasped as Damian Lestoff kissed her neck and moved his hands under her skirts and up her thighs.

“Nicky’s going to be devastated,” she teased, pulling away. Lefty smirked at her. 

“I think he’ll survive,” he said, “where have you been, might I ask?” She kissed him again.

“What do you mean?” She asked. He shrugged. “You were too busy being dazzled by my brother to notice me, that doesn’t mean I was hiding.” He grinned and pushed her back into the bedroom and onto her bed, “Besides, I was a bashful maiden.”

“True,” he said, “I’ve never much cared for deflowering, messy business,” she giggled. “And now, you’re an experienced married lady,” he whispered, “and I am absolutely enchanted, Princess.” She blushed looking up at him, his amber eyes full of lust and adoration. No one had every looked at her like that before.

“Lefty,” she mumbled and he made love to her. After she giggled and stretched. 

“What do you have to drink?” He said, scratching his head and standing up. She looked at him.

“There’s some wine,” she said, “and tea, I think, though it’s cold now.”

“Hm,” he nodded, “no armis then?” She gaped at him.

“I’m not a dock worker, so no,” she said. He smirked and kissed her.

“My mistake,” he teased. She giggled. “You’re really lovely, Rila,” he whispered. She exhaled. “What’s your husband like, why haven’t I met him?” 

“Lord Alcott doesn’t care for court,” she said with a cynical shrug she didn’t quite feel to her bones. “Or me.”

“Impossible,” Lefty whispered and kissed her neck. 

“He married me to be a trophy against my father,” she sighed, “he won’t even give me children.” He kissed her. “Aside from the fact that he’s old and drunk and fat and thoroughly beneath me.”

“We are all thoroughly beneath you,” he teased, pulling her in a straddle onto his lap. “I cannot, in fact, think of a more appealing position.” She laughed and then gasped as she began to ride him. Maybe Nicky had been right, sex was worth it. 

Lefty wasn’t her last lover, it became something of a habit, indulging the same way that her brothers did. She occasionally received letters about her “humiliating behavior” from Alcott, but he never came, so she never worried. 

But her father’s health was declining and the whispers were impossible to ignore. And eventually he’d stopped seeing her, which was a dagger through her heart.

2 years later

“Rila,” Raniere stopped her one day as she passed her father’s rooms. She looked at him. “I wanted to speak to you.” She swallowed. “When he dies,” she shook her head.

“We don’t need to do this,” she said. He looked at her.

“When he dies, which seems imminent,” he whispered, “I’m annulling your marriage.” She blinked at him.

“What?” She whispered. He shrugged. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t stop it,” he said, “but I can fix it.” She nodded and started crying. “Sweet one,” he said pulling her close. “I know how hard it’s been on you.” She nodded. “Do you want to see him?”

“Is he up to it?” She asked. Raniere nodded and she walked into the bedroom. “Hello Papa.”

“Hello little Rila,” he said. She glanced at the man standing in the corner. “Master Braga, have you met my daughter yet?”

“I haven’t yet had the honor,” he smiled. His voice was soft and gentle, somehow warm and invigorating, like a summer breeze. “Your Highness.”

“Master Braga is a healer,” Raniere explained. Rila nodded. “As you can see he’s working miracles for us.”

“I’m glad of it,” Rila said. Her father cupped her cheek. “We’ve all been so worried, Papa.”

“I know this,” he said softly. “Your brother tells me hourly.” She laughed. “You came home for the little ones?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “though they’ll fight like beasts if you call them little.” He smiled. 

“Your Majesty, you should rest more,” Braga said. Rila smiled and nodded walking out and wiping her eyes. 

That night at dinner Rila was dignified and quiet, not sure why her mind felt oddly clouded and dark, despite the respite of having seen her father hale and happy, if bedridden earlier. Her eyes and mind kept drifting to the Cammadie healer, seated beside Raniere, his dark hair clean and combed back, and his grey eyes fixed on her.

She stepped out into the ice garden holding a lantern and wandered, ending up in The Glen of The Maidens. Seven girls sculpted of ice positioned as if they were dancing.

“They are lovely, aren’t they?” She stopped seeing Braga beside her, as if he’d materialized out of thin air. “Rastan’s ice maidens.” She nodded, drawn in by his voice again

“I used to wish on them,” she said, “that’s what they taught us. You ask them for things,” he smiled gently.

“And what sorts of things did a princess have to wish for?” He said. She closed her eyes.

“I wanted to be like a storybook princess, not a real one,” she whispered. “Fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“And this has been denied you,” he said, “I quite understand.” She looked at him. “I was denied my hearts desire when I was young.” She swallowed and kissed him, not sure where the impulse came from, just knowing she must. “Are you sure, Princess?” She nodded.

A month later it was clear that whatever was between her and Braga was somewhat permanent. He had basically moved into her rooms and he was a particularly attentive lover. One night after she lay with her head against his chest.

“Braga,” she whispered.

“Yes Princess,” he whispered.

“Who were you, before you came to us?” She whispered. He laughed.

“No one of consequence,” he said, “my father was a drunk who beat my mother, and denied me the chance to become what I should have been.” She looked at him. “Despite that I learned what I could, and then I came here.” She nodded.

“You said once you were denied your heart’s desire,” she said. He stroked her hair. “What did you mean?”

“I loved a woman once,” he said, “she was beautiful, I would have given her the world,” he exhaled, “but she chose another, someone I should have been able to trust, but never did,” she looked at him.

“What happened to her?” She asked. He kissed her gently.

“She died,” he said, “him too.” She rested her chin against his chest.

“Raniere says when my father dies he’ll annul my marriage,” she whispered. Braga smiled at her.

“Why do you think I would want this information?” He teased. She giggled. “I am not worthy of you Princess.”

“That’s up to me,” she said, “I won’t let them sell me again.” He pushed her hair off her face. “Would you?”

“I’d be honored,” he whispered. She smiled and snuggled close.

She was standing outside of the throne room, holding back from crying. She wouldn’t cry. What Lefty was saying, it couldn’t be true. Raniere was sitting, crumpled on the dais and that merchant bitch was talking to him.

“You’re lying,” she hissed at Lefty. He sighed.

“Rila,” he whispered, Nikolai was staring at the floor.

“She did something to him,” she sharpened her voice, made it steel, “the same as she did Raniere, and you, some spell. She’s controlling him, I don’t know why, but that has to be it.” The pity on Lefty’s face was gone.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you spoiled little bitch,” he growled. “I know it killed you that all of a sudden I wasn’t on your leash any more but the rest of us grew up.”

“Lefty,” Nikolai cautioned.

“No,” Rila said, “let him talk. Do you know how desperate I was to take you on? The common son of a whore and my brother’s cast off?” Lefty snorted. “I let you in my bed when you’re not even fit to tie my boots and you threw it away. Braga loves me, we’re going to be married.”

“This is news,” Nicky said, “is that why Alcott’s here?” Rila glared at him. She was sure her husband was answering some summons. That Raniere was keeping his promise. She’d be free. She was going to marry Braga, she was going to have his children, his beautiful, grey eyed, magical children.

“I’m sure he told you so,” Tristan Dugarry said, his voice even. The Commander hadn’t talked much, she realized, in the months that he’d been here, and his cool placid face was betraying almost no emotion. “Brayton fooled a lot of people.” She blinked at him. “What reason would I have to lie to you, Princess? I’ve known the man every day of my life, I stared into his eyes the day his agents killed my parents, bowed to him when I knew I was abandoning Marina to his mercy when I was seventeen, and guarded him in his cell in Dovetail while Annalise held him prisoner.” She swallowed. “I saw plenty of other girls like you too, beautiful, vital and bewitched by him.” Her lip quivered. “So many would be Queens of Cammadan, left hollow when he grew bored.”

“He had a great love,” she said. The Commander nodded “He told me, but she died.”

“All his lies hold some truth,” he said. “She chose another?” Rila nodded. “He didn’t mention her name though, Marie, or the stabbing her in the gut part, I’m just guessing.” She exhaled and shook her head. “I’m sorry for you Princess, I am, this is going to be difficult for you, but then again, he is going to take Marina wherever they went and rape her until she’s pregnant with his child.” She closed her eyes. “He’s going to hollow out her soul and turn her into a shadow who will kill her friends and family, which at this point includes your brother, probably, and then the boy, it’s a boy by the way, she had a vision of that months ago,” he exhaled, “he’s going to open the gates of hell.”

“Enough, Tristan,” Lefty said. Dugarry shrugged. Like it was nothing to him. Like she was nothing.

“We’re going,” Carolina Dugarry walked in. Her husband rushed to her side and she kissed him softly. Rila swallowed and looked at Lefty who seemed unperturbed. But Lady Dugarry was his lover, it had been made clear. The other woman looked at Rila as if she sensed the confusion, “I am sorry if our deception caused trouble for you Princess.” Rila looked at her mouth agape. She’d seen nothing but a shallow merchant girl a few hours ago, maybe looking to get a bit above herself. The silly flirt who’d taken Lefty from her, but that wasn’t who was standing in front of her at all. This woman was serious and assured and impatient.

“Alex?” Tristan said. Caro sighed with a shrug. “We won’t have time to stop with my grandfather.”

“We don’t need to stop in Dorin,” Lefty shook his head, “The Glora can navigate through the river right to Dovetail.” Rila stared at him. “I made sure she was the right size when she was designed. I always knew I’d have to get her back there.”

“What about your crew?” Nicky asked.

“Anyone who wants to come can, the others can leave with Eric,” he shrugged. “I know you’re not much of a sailor, Dugarry but, she can handle with just two or three,” Tristan nodded. “Excuse me.” He left the room and Rila followed after him. “Rila, don’t.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She asked. He looked at her. “That it was that you were in love with her?” He looked over his shoulder. “I thought that,” she exhaled. “I thought that you, that I,” pity crossed his face. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Four years ago in Brightcoast, he tried to turn me into a shadow,” he whispered. “Marina saved me. Tonight it was what he used, to get her to agree to go with him.” Rila looked down. “When I walked in here and saw him at Raniere’s side, saw him with you, I couldn’t,” she nodded. “And I’m faithful to Marina, now.”

“All those years,” she asked. He looked at her and nodded. Suddenly the last few months snapped into focus.

“And now the rest of my life,” he said. “You’re free now, Rila, don’t waste it.’

Rila stared at the Cammadie Guard Captain who was kneeling before Raniere, somewhat in shock. His dark hair had grown into his eyes he was looking soulfully up at her brother. But it was the kneeling that took her by surprise. The others had been so proud, almost arrogant.

“I gave Lady Dugarry my word,” Raniere said, “whatever any of you need.”

“We are grateful, Your Majesty,” the Captain said softly. “Her Majesty most of all, that is, until Lady Marina is restored to herself.” Raniere nodded. Rila steeled her spine. Raniere was still not quite himself, Braga’s betrayal and his complete misreading of the situation with Marina had shaken him.

Brayton she scolded herself, not Braga. Braga had never existed, the quiet healer who’d soothed her father, and advised her brother and warmed her heart had been a fiction. After court broke she stopped him.

“Captain,” she said. He turned and looked at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” He smiled.

“Prior Chastain, Princess,” he said softly, with a gallant bow. Rila smiled at him then. The dark hair and pale skin and the manners were so different from the other members of Annalise’s court that she’d met. But not from any other Cammadie she’d met, the twitch in her guts came again. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“He’s dead?” She said. He blinked at her. “Brag-Brayton?”

“Yes,” he said, there was something satisfied in his voice. Of course, he was one of them. He paused and looked at her again. “He’s dead.” She should be glad. He’d lied to her, used her, even aside from his more heinous crimes. “I’m sorry.” She blinked. “He clearly meant something to you, to all of you, different from what he meant to us.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded. “Is Lady Marina alright?” He swallowed.

“She will be,” he said firmly, as if he was talking himself into it. Rila regarded him. He was handsome, almost comically so, with his drawn nose and strong chin and clear blue eyes. “Was there anything else?”

“No,” she said, “did you know him, at all? Sir Tristan said things,” she drifted off.

“No,” he shook his head, “I didn’t come to Dovetail until Annalise,” he swallowed, “until The Queen returned.” Now it was his turn to look pained. Rila understood then, who this was. Rumors of Annalise’s engagement had reached them, no official announcement, and clearly, something had changed.

“Is Captain Lestoff alright?” Her heart squeezed, “he must be very worried.” He nodded.

“He is,” he said softly. ”But better, now that she’s been found, that she’s safe. Were you close?” Rila blinked at him. “You and Lefty?”

“Once, yes,” she nodded. Was he another spy, like Carolina Dugarry? He seemed very straightforward but then again so had she. “You’ll tell him I’m sorry?” The Captain nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

Prior

He looked out over the icy harbor. His audience with Raniere had been fine, very civilized. He’d been warned, by Eric of all people, about how formal everything would be. The kneeling had been Raymond’s idea, seconded by Evan. But his encounter with Princess Rila had thrown him. She’d looked so haunted. Beautiful, those cheekbones, and that porcelain skin and white blonde hair, but drained of light.

Clearly, Brayton, or Braga, as she’d known him had been her lover. Poor thing. Gods, he missed home. He missed Annalise, he wanted her in his arms, leaning against him, talking about how insufferable these people were. Instead she was on the other side of the world, in Eric’s arms, talking about her future.

He poured himself a glass of the cold clear armis, which, considering the stuff was from here, made him less homesick. Aaron and Athena drank it like water. Evan had told him that he should see The Ice Garden. That might kill an hour. He pulled his cloak on and walked out and wandered.

The sculptures were remarkable, lifelike in so many ways, clearly shaped with a combination of magic and skill, preserved by that same magic. He reached one courtyard of a wolf, large and looming over a stag it had taken down.

“This was my father’s favorite,” the princess appeared by his side. “It’s supposed to represent our family, the great hunters.” Prior smiled at her. “But I think our instincts have dulled. And I never understood the wolf, even Kristoff who loves animals, always preferred bears.” She exhaled. “You all have crests don’t you? Carolina Dugarry wore that heinous copper pendant with the spear and bow constantly. And Raniere had something made for the Duchess.”

“The necklaces are a fashion at the moment, for betrothals, an old tradition that the Count and Countess of Pantona brought back,” he explained. The one in his pocket seemed to whirr to life, he didn’t know why he was still carrying it, “yes, we have crests. My family’s is a tower standing over a mountain.” She nodded. “He killed my father too,” she looked at him. “Brayton, he had him executed for standing up for Annalise’s parents.” She swallowed.

“I thought he loved me,” she whispered. “I thought we were going to get married, and I’d live happily ever after, it was so stupid.” He looked at her.

“I’m familiar with that brand of stupidity,” he mumbled. She tossed her long blonde hair.

“Before my father married me off to pay a debt,” she said, “he used to try to push Eric and I together.” She looked down. “He never even looked at me twice.” Prior found that hard to believe, as Eric was clearly not blind. It was likely more the bargain the two brothers had struck, if Rila had caught Lefty’s eye, the prince was honor bound to leave her be. And Eric knew another Princess didn’t matter, with Annalise waiting somewhere for him.

“My uncle wants an Allred king,” he said, “I took this mission because a part of me is still the little boy afraid of his belt.” She met his eyes.

“So you aren’t marrying her?” She asked.

“No,” he said. “Probably for the same reason Eric made himself ignore you fighting fate is exhausting.” She nodded. “Do you have a favorite?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “In the garden.”

“I used to,” she said. “Now it feels, defiled.” Something in him wanted to reach out, to find some way to comfort her. This broken, beautiful princess standing before him.

Rila

She closed her eyes as Prior spread her on her bed. He’d walked her back to her rooms and gone to excuse himself, perfectly polite, when she took his hand and pulled him close

“Are you sure?” He asked. She nodded. She wanted this, needed it maybe. Now his head was between her thighs and she whimpered softly as he pleasured her. He was taking his time, like he was savoring her, this ranger from the south with his soft sad eyes and kind voice. “More,” she exhaled. He looked up at her and slid up her body pressing into her with a kiss and a grunt. Tasting herself on him was something but again his care felt wrong.

She wanted to be consumed and obliterated. Shattered like ice against stone, and despite what she’d thought she’d seen in his eyes at the Ice Garden it was clear Prior Chastain was not the man for that job.

Prior

He’d left her room after, she’d asked him to, which was fair enough. They’d both found release, however tepid, but he wandered back to his own rooms and sat down.

This was a disaster. For so many reasons.

He knew what was wrong. Rila was beautiful, clearly intelligent, and thoughtful, but she wasn’t Annalise, when it came down to it. And he wanted Annalise. Before he’d been with her there had been others. A few at the start too, when he had no idea what his queen wanted of him. He’d never walked from them aching for her though, as he had just now.

He’d go home, then to Westran, it was the only way. He just needed time. There was nothing else for it.

Rila

She walked into an office the next day, Alcott was sitting going over a ledger. He glanced up at her.

“Wife,” he muttered.

“Raniere is making me heir,” she said.

“He is also letting you divorce me, so I don’t see how it affects me,” he said. She looked at him.

“I want children,” she said. He looked up at her. “I’ll come back, if you promise me children.” Alcott’s ambition might be enough to save this, but instead he regarded her again and then he laughed.

“If you think I still want you after the past few years, Rila, you are sorely mistaken,” his voice was cold and cruel. “You were of little use unspoiled and I’ve absolutely no use for an ungrateful slut as a wife.” She nodded. It was done then, the decision made. She walked back out and into the ice garden, sat down among the maidens, and finally cried.

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Interlude: Midwinter

Note

Well, things have been heavy on the main line lately huh? Here’s a little Christmas time fluff for everyone. The Pantonas are throwing a party and Aaron is being a brat! Also, this is the last planned interlude for a while. I’ve loved writing them, but nothing seems in good enough shape for the moment. If something comes up that I want to write I will, but for now…time for a rest.

Caleb

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Lisette gasped running her hand over the delicate blue gown. “Am I truly allowed to wear it?” Caleb smiled. She was fifteen, he realized, too grown up to be hidden away much longer.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” He asked. She frowned. Olivia looked at him as Lisette held it up against herself and looked in the mirror.

“Normally when you bring things like this back they go in the trunk,” she said softly, “for later.” Caleb nodded.

“This is for the midwinter festival,” he said, “someone suggested new dresses were the thing for it.” Lisette looked at him. “There’s going to be a ball.”

“And you can’t very well go to your first ball in your cottons, Lisette,” Olivia said. Lisette smiled and hugged them both.

“Thank you!” She said. “I love you both so much.” She skipped out.

“Is it too much?” Caleb grimaced. “I never know.” Olivia sighed.

“I think in this case, no,” Olivia said, “we’d be indulging her regardless on this occasion.” He sat down. “And it will be good practice for her.” Caleb frowned. “You’re under a storm cloud, my love, what is it?”

“Something Les said,” he sighed, “Marina has begun to notice Brayton’s attention.” Olivia sighed. “We could bring her here.”

“We can’t do that,” Olivia said softly. “He can’t look this way, you know it.” He nodded. “I want to protect Marina too, of course I do, but we must protect Lisette and Aaron first.” He exhaled. “He’d just think we were placing her in front of Aaron, which would put everyone at risk.” Caleb grinned.

“I’ve heard worse ideas,” he said. Olivia laughed.

“Aaron would find Marina a charming distraction for exactly one month, and then leave her heartbroken and vulnerable,” Olivia shook her head. Caleb looked at her. “He’s my son as much as he’s yours.” Caleb laughed.

“I hate admitting that you’re right,” he said. Olivia laughed. “Has she written to Harran more?”

“Stop meddling,” Olivia said, “bringing Harran here was good for her, but you know her opinion on things.” Caleb sighed. “And if she has, she didn’t tell me about it and I won’t ask. She’s entitled to some privacy about boys at her age, heir to a throne or not.” He exhaled as his wife kissed him gently. Olivia wasn’t wrong of course, but he had brought Harran to Pantona to show Annalise that she had options outside of the ones she contemplated constantly.

The Prince of Phania and Aaron.

His plan had succeeded too well, he was pretty sure. When the Prince had departed, his daughter had spent a week doing nothing but scribbling in her diary and sighing loudly. When he asked Aaron what exactly had gone on between the pair the response had been less than useful.

“She followed him around like a puppy and he preened at the attention,” Aaron has said, “it was deadly boring.” Aaron’s blasé attitude was becoming a problem, but Caleb didn’t know a cure besides seeing more of the world and the idea of Aaron in Dovetail terrified him.

Aaron

“It does suit you,” he said, as Annalise pulled at the necklace Olivia had leant her with the ice blue gown. The guests hadn’t arrived for the ball yet. She looked at him.

“In the books Olivia gives me it says young girls shouldn’t wear jewelry,” Lisette frowned. “Just flowers or maybe a scarf in their hair.

“Maybe there’s some sort of exception for Princesses,” he grinned. She scoffed at him. “You’re excited, I haven’t seen you this happy since last summer.” She straightened up.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she mustered her dignity. He laughed. He shouldn’t tease her about Prince Harran, but it was really so easy. “I ran into Maggie at market yesterday.” Aaron grimaced.

“Did you?” He said. “How um,” he swallowed. “How was she?”

“She told me to tell you that she’s going to marry Alfred Baker over in Corenting,” Lisette said, “and that should you wish her joy you could choke on it.” He sighed. “She wasn’t the one?”

“You’re not funny,” he said. “Even if she were, I can’t marry a shopkeeper’s daughter from the village.” She frowned. “Don’t worry I’m not holding out for you.”

“I didn’t think you were,” she stuck out her tongue. He laughed. “Do you think when I’m queen, he’ll come back?”

“I think he’d be very foolish not to.” He said and kissed her forehead. “Did you tell him the truth?” She shook her head.

“Caleb said not to,” she whispered. “And even if he hadn’t, I didn’t want,” she exhaled, “I wanted him to like me.” She exhaled. “I know you didn’t like him.”

“It isn’t that I didn’t like him, but I’m not used to sharing you,” Aaron admitted. He’d have to get used to it, he knew that. “Maggie’s really getting married?” She rolled her eyes.

“I only know what they tell me,” she said. He raised an eyebrow. “Believe it or not the goddess is not particularly interested in your conquests, Aaron, so she doesn’t send me Dreams about them.” He smirked. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

“You look very grown up Lisette,” he said. She smiled. “Though not quite like a Princess.” She smiled.

“I hope not,” she said, “it makes my eyes look blue.” He nodded.

Olivia

“I can’t believe Father thought of this,” Aaron frowned. Olivia looked at her son.

“Marina Sanpierre thought of this,” Olivia said. He blinked at her. “Are you shocked?”

“A little,” he said, “isn’t she twelve?”

“She’s fourteen,” Olivia said, “and your father has it in his head for you to get to know her very well.” Aaron rolled his eyes. “He means well. You two are too hard on each other.” Lisette was dancing with one of the merchant boys who’d been passing through. “She’s doing well.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Is it always going to be like this?” Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. “Every man who looks at her makes me want to corner him and ask what his intentions are.” Olivia laughed. “It’s not funny, it’s maddening.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at myself,” she exhaled. “I was worrying about the two of you, being too attached.” Aaron smirked. “You were awful about Harran, but if it’s just you being protective, I can live with it.”

“Countess,” William Santino walked over. “Viscount.” Speaking of protectiveness. “Thank you for having me.”

“Anytime,” Aaron smirked. “Please tell me you brought something to drink?” His mother sighed at him.

“Always,” William laughed, “shall we?” Aaron grinned and they walked out. Odd that Aaron was blind to William’s intention towards Lisette. Or maybe he didn’t care. She wasn’t too worried about it. They needed friends, and Pantona left them with precious little choice in who they could be with regularly.

Her own youth in Dovetail had been full, friends and suitors and that was even under her father’s considerable and toxic influence.

“Olivia,” Lisette walked over flushed and happy. “Why aren’t you and Caleb dancing?” She smiled at the girl.

“An excellent question,” Olivia said, “you look lovely.” Lisette smiled widely.

“I’m having so much fun,” she said, “I want to do this all the time.” Olivia laughed.

“When we’re in Dovetail maybe you can,” she whispered kissing her on the cheek softly. Lisette laughed and went back to her merchant. Caleb walked over. “Lisette wants to know why we aren’t dancing?”

“It’s an excellent question,” he smiled taking her hand as a new dance started. She smiled. “I’m proud of this.”

“You should be,” she said softly. “Of all of it.” He smiled and kissed her gently.

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Interlude: A Broken Heart

Lisette

William Santino had been in Pantona for a week. He knew it had been a good decision but that didn’t make the tiny village less dull for a young man, compared to Dovetail.

At least today, which was market day was somewhat exciting. Most of the surrounding farmers and even a few merchants had descended on the small square. He’d managed to step away from the Inn where his uncle had set him up for a while to look around, when he distractedly bumped into a girl with a basket.

“I’m so sorry, Mistress,” he said kneeling down to help her gather the things she’d dropped. She met his eyes. She was darked skinned, with her curly black hair slid back off her face in a kerchief, and her sharp grey eyes seeing into him. “We haven’t met.”

“No,” she said, with a smirk. “We haven’t.”

“Lisette,” a boy about his own age followed after her. He had red hair and his face was drawn into a suspicious frown now. “Can I help you?”

“I um,” William stuttered, “I apologize. I’m William Santino, I’m taking over the inn.” The other boy’s face softened.

“Oh, right,” he sighed, “I’m Aaron, this is Lisette. Welcome to Pantona.” William stopped. The name clicked immediately.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he bowed. “I didn’t realize.”

“Oh don’t do that,” the girl, Lisette, sighed, “he doesn’t deserve it.” The Viscount rolled his eyes. “We’re glad you’ve come, aren’t we, Aaron.”

“Hm?” The Viscount was already distracted and looking elsewhere, “oh yes, of course, please come to the manor sometime. Lisette, come along, we should finish shopping, Mother will expect us before supper.”

“Right,” she said cheerfully, “it was nice meeting you Master Santino, we’ll see you soon.”

The night at dinner, William moved his food around distractedly.

“Everything alright?” His Uncle asked. William looked at him. “Did you enjoy the market, at least?”

“Yes,” William shrugged. “I met the Viscount.” His uncle nodded.

“Ah,” the old man nodded. “What did you think of him?” William shrugged.

“There was a girl too,” he mumbled. His uncle chuckled.

“Of course,” he said. “She’s a sweet little thing. Young though.” William sighed.

“I didn’t mean,” he blushed at little. “Who is she?”

“No one’s exactly sure,” his uncle sighed. “They call her Lisette. The Count and Countess adopted her. She keeps to herself mostly. The line at the manor is she’s just a war orphan, but there are whispers that she’s the Count’s own. She’s got Phanian blood for sure.”

It was a few days later when Lisette showed up at the inn with a basket.

“How can I help you?” William smiled at her.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, “Aaron was being very rude the other day.” She handed him the basket. “We’re neighbors, and you’re new.” He moved the cloth away from the top of the basket.

“Lemons?” He grinned.

“We have an orchard at the manor,” she explained. “Your cook will be grateful for them, trust me.” He nodded.

“Will you have tea with me?” He asked. She raised her eyebrows. “My uncle’s gone back to Dovetail. I am still new.” She nodded and sat down with him.

This became a routine for nearly a year. Lisette would come too the Inn, they’d sit and have tea and talk. In addition to her striking looks, he found her charming, sweet and intelligent. They did well together. She was of course, only fifteen years old, to his seventeen. They were young. He knew that, but as he stood in front of Count Caleb and Countess Olivia he felt resolved.

“When we spoke earlier you seemed anxious,” The count said, “have a seat, William. Is all well with the inn?”

“What?” William said sitting own. “Yes, it’s not,” he exhaled. “I wanted to speak to you regarding Lisette.” The couple’s eyes shifted towards each other and then The Countess smiled at him knowingly.

“What about Lisette?” Countess Olivia asked. William exhaled.

“I was hoping to,” he sighed. “I’d like to ask her to marry me. I know we’re both still very young, but I can’t see my uncle objecting. And if she says no, of course, but I didn’t want to, that is without you both,” he exhaled. The Count was frowning.

“Lisette is fifteen,” he said, “she’s far too young, William. I know you two are friends and if you wish to,” he sighed. “I don’t object to your relationship, but no, not marriage.” The Countess regarded him.

“What are your feelings for her?” She asked. “And does she reciprocate?”

“We’re friends, really,” William said, honestly, “and she’s a lovely girl. I only thought,” he looked down. “I think we’d do well together.” The Count nodded solemnly and shook his hand and he left.

William stared at the wall after Lisette, Princess Annalise, he reminded himself had left his office. All these weeks he’d been at his wit’s end because he was watching the girl he wanted fall in love with someone else, and while he’d felt a deep and abiding jealousy at the way she looked at Tristan Dugarry, but that wasn’t even the beginning of the gulf between them.

He’d sat in that parlor and asked to marry her. And as she’d plainly laid out her identity to him, it made so much more sense. Half Phanian, and being raised by nobles as their own, not just thrown into their kitchens? It was so obvious. She’d never considered him because she lived in a different universe from him.

Marina

“William,” Marina whimpered underneath him, her gown undone and pushed down revealing her breasts as he kissed and sucked gently down her neck. “Goddess,” she sighed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d gotten here. One moment they were walking through the courtyard garden outside the great hall, and he’d kissed her, and now they were in his barrack room and she was leaning into his touch. “How did the gods make anyone so beautiful?” They kissed hard and she slipped his shirt over his head and their skin pressed together. He needed her, was burning for her. He went to unlace himself and she stopped him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked.

“I’ve never,” she said. He smiled. “That is, you know that I,” he kissed her again. Marina was sixteen and had lived life sheltered in a way he could only imagine. Of course she was a virgin.

“We don’t have to do that,” he whispered. “I want you, my little beauty, but there are other things, other pleasures.” She sat up and smirked at him. “Can I finish undressing you?”

“If you want,” she said softly as he went back to work behind her ear. “But what do you mean, other pleasures?”

“I’m going to touch you, and kiss you,” he whispered, sliding her gown down to the floor. “I don’t need to be inside of you to make you moan, Marina.” He slid his hand down below her waist and lay her down on her back.

“William,” she mumbled as he kissed down and explored her body. Gods, he was a lucky man, her small curves were perfect. He pressed one finger gently against her sex, “mm,” she exhaled. He added another finger and then kissed the same spot, finding her bud and sucking gently on it, “oh gods,” she raised her hips to meet his fingers and tongue. Her breathing was ragged and she was moaning his name and gods, he was hard. When she finally let go and went limp, he looked up at her, flushed and panting.

“You enjoyed it?” He whispered. She nodded drowsily. He climbed up and kissed her gently.

“Can I return the favor?” She whispered and they kissed again. He groaned. “I don’t know how, but you could show me.” He smirked and unlaced himself and guided her hand to him.

“This is how much I want you, Marina,” he murmured in her ear. “Wrap your hand around me, and stroke.” She kissed him and followed the instructions. It wasn’t nearly the relief he wanted, needed, but he could wait for her.

William had been home a week. Settled back into his small office at the back of the inn. Back to watching and listening for things he wasn’t sure about. He missed Marina. He missed the softness of her against him in bed, and the little whimpers she made when he touched her.

He missed the shy way she touched him, and her mouth soft and warm on his cock. His door opened and Kathy Sampson walked in.

“Hello Kathy,” he said, “can I help you with something?” She shrugged and sat down on the couch, her chestnut brown hair rippling.

“I realized I hadn’t welcomed you back,” she said, her voice low. He and Kathy had had a few encounters over the years. It was a small area. But once she’d caught Aaron’s eye and he’d decided to get serious about Lisette that had been that.

“Uh huh,” he nodded, “did The Count already kick you out of the manor?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Still mooning about The Queen?” She rolled her eyes. He sighed. He hadn’t thought of Lisette that way in a long time. “I had thought when he came back alone that maybe,” she exhaled, “but that merchant bitch still has some hold on him.”

“Athena Dugarry is not likely to share,” he muttered. “And I’d advise you not to get in her way.” She looked curiously at him.

“I thought you liked her,” she said. He frowned. “Was our Queen too fond of her old friend? Did it upset her plans?”

“It wasn’t Lisette,” he sighed, “it’s not important. What do you want?” She shrugged and stood up and straddled him lap.

“What do you think I want?” She whispered. They kissed and he slid his hands to her thighs. They lost themselves in the easy bliss of sex.

Carolina

William had fallen in love with Carolina Dugarry slowly and then all at once. He’d known he wanted her, but he’d pushed it aside, sure it was some overcooked jealous reaction to her husband.

But the rhythm of their friendship so clearly mirrored his with Lisette. She’d come to the inn, they’d talk, she’d smile. And like Lisette she was lonely, somehow separate from the rest of the world in Pantona. Her reasons were different. Tristan’s work taking him far away, her desire for a child and her estrangement from her family.

The first of many stolen kisses had been an accident, walking back from the manor one evening and they’d arrived at her gate. He’d recently called off his engagement to Kathy, a hairbrained scheme that had led to her running off with some merchant train and him looking like a fool.

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work out,” Caro had said. He laughed. “I know how hard this sort of thing can be. Before Tristan I,” she paused. “Well, I just understand, even when you aren’t terribly attached to the person, it stings.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Thank you. It’s been good. To have a friend.” She smiled, the moonlight threading through her golden blonde hair. She stood on her tiptoes and went to kiss him on the cheek. He turned his head and met her lips instead. She stopped and backed away. “Oh, Caro, wait,”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to,” she opened the gate, “good night,” she called over her shoulder running to the house. What was he thinking? She was married. And to a man who hated him anyway. There were easier ways to die than kissing Tristan Dugarry’s wife.

She never explained it. She never mentioned it. They never talked about it. There were just more kisses. Sometimes greeting or goodbyes at their private meetings, sometimes in shadows of the manor or Dugarry House. Sometimes soft and sweet, other times hungry and wanting.

It was clear she felt like he did. She wanted him, cared for him, and knew was impossible. Not that they talked about it. Ever. They talked about everything else. For years. Talk. And stolen kisses.

Until that night. She’d come over, quieter, and sadder than he’d ever seen her. She’d picked up the bottle of whiskey that usually only Aaron took, and poured a glass and downed it.

“He’d rather be anywhere else,” she finally said. He looked at her.

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said. She looked at him. “I’ve never understood it.”

“You haven’t, have you?” She said gently. He pushed her hair behind her ear. “You don’t want to be somewhere else?”

“No,” he said gently. “I want to be with you.” She nodded and kissed him. She still tasted like the whiskey, he didn’t mind. “Caro,” he whispered. She pulled close, pressing against him and kissing again, not withdrawing. He knew she would any minute now. But she didn’t seem to want to this time.

“William,” she said softly, “oh gods, please keep kissing me.” He placed his hands on he waist and pulled her close. She seemed to follow his body’s instruction and pressed against him as she opened her mouth. “I want you,” she whispered.

“Fortunately, we’re in a building with quite a few beds,” he teased. She threw her head back and laughed.

“Yes,” she said standing up alluringly. “I’ve been thinking about yours.” He swallowed and they walked upstairs to his simple bedchamber. The Inn was empty and part of him wanted to take her to the more elaborate suite, the one usually reserved for when her people came through town. They fell back against his bed though, and he realized this was better. They undressed each other and started to push closer. He slowly traced his hands against her body. “William,” she whispered, “gods, that’s nice,” she murmured as he spread her legs and lifted her into a sitting position and he slid into her slowly, gently.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Carolina,” he said gently, “you have no idea.” She blinked her large blue eyes up at him. “Is this good?” He breathed trying to keep his stroke slow, to savor this woman.

“Yes,” she exhaled, “oh it’s so good.” She was panting and thrusting to match him. “Oh Goddess, William,” she moaned, “don’t stop, please.” He didn’t, they didn’t. He didn’t know what exactly he’d expected, but Caro’s insatiable appetite was not it.

When they did finally collapse in exhaustion, she slid close to him.

“I wish I’d come to you a long time ago,” she said softly. He exhaled.

“Why now?” He managed to ask. She sighed. “I’m not complaining, I just,” she rolled over and kissed him softly.

“I’m here now,” she said, “can it be enough?” He cupped her face.

“Let me in, please,” he whispered. “I love you, Carolina, you must know that.” She pressed her forehead to his.

“I wish he’d just leave me,” she said, “I really do. It would be easier.” Leave him, he tried to say but couldn’t, run away with me. Instead he just kissed her and drew her close.

“I want you again,” he whispered. She smiled and rolled under him.

He woke in the morning when Caro shifted in bed and began getting dressed.

“Where you going?” He asked and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She sighed happily back against him.

“Home,” she whispered. “I’ll be missed, and we don’t need gossip.”

“Let everyone in the damn village talk,” he whispered. She giggled and shook her head. “Stay right here.”

“William,” she whispered, “I can’t, if Aaron and Athena found out,” she trailed off. He stopped. Of course. “Thank you for last night, though. It was incredible.”

And then it went back. She came and went sending her coded messages, there were a few stolen kisses and stray touches. He waited up nights, wondering when she’d come back and she never did. But he lived in hope.

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Interlude: The Great Witch

“Mama, look,” Brea said with a gasp as Nika took the small pool of water and wrapped it around her. Brea’s giggle as the whip danced around her made Nika feel very proud. Her eight year old sister was very particular and six year old Nika wanted to impress her.

“Well done, Nika,” Lady Anaia Averran knelt down to her daughters. Nika warmed. “When did you learn that?”

“I didn’t learn it,” Nika frowned, “I just tried it.” Her mother nodded.

“Mama, can I try?” Brea asked. Their mother looked at her.

“Not today my love,” she said. “Come, we have a long ride.” Nika frowned and the two sisters followed after her. Her mother was being strange.

That night after they made camp and the girls were supposed to be sleeping Nika sat up, listening to her parents talk.

“I’ve never seen anything like it, Walkin,” Anaia said gently. “She needs to be properly taught.”

“She’s a witch, my love,” her father chuckled. “What could she need that you and the others can’t show her?”

“I’m not sure,” her mother said, “The Cammadie, maybe?”

“The Masteros are all dead or hiding under rocks, waiting for salvation from a child who died years ago,” Walkin shook his head. “And I won’t hand our daughter over to be drained and slaughtered by Brayton.” Nika inhaled sharply. She didn’t want to leave her mother and sister anyway, let alone to go to the monsters in Cammadan who hated magic.

She was twelve years old when it came up again. She was sitting playing as they’d settled in to the Border Keep, Brea was off with the chieftain’s sons, but Nika didn’t want to play with the loud and rowdy boys, and she didn’t understand why her sister did either. But Brea now spent nearly all her time hanging on Prince Harran’s every word, and watching him and sighing. Instead she’d settled in to see if she could make the lights she’d been practicing dance.

“What on earth?” Chieftain Marcus said she turned as the two orbs sat in her hands.

“Chieftain,” she said and extinguished them. “Were you looking for my mother?”

“I was,” he smiled, “what was that you were doing?”

“Oh it’s just a game,” she blushed. “Or it will be, when I figure it out.” The Chieftain nodded.

“Show me,” he said, she nodded and created the orbs of golden light in each hand. “How long have been able to do this?”

“A while,” she said.

“Just conjuring light?” He asked. She shook her head.

“Water too,” she whispered. He exhaled. “My mother is settling in our room I think.”

“Little Nika,” The Chieftain said. “Why are you afraid? This is a wonderful gift.”

“I don’t want to go to Cammadan and die,” she said. She waited for him to laugh. “I see them, the shadows, and they say awful things!”

“I see,” The Chieftain nodded. “Yes, that would be alarming.” She nodded. “Do you see other things?”

“Sometimes,” she swallowed. “People, places that are far away. It doesn’t always make a lot of sense.” He nodded.

“Chieftain,” her mother walked over. “I apologize was Nika bothering you?” Nika shrank back.

“No,” he said gently. “You might have told us your daughter was a seer, Lady Anaia.” Nika swallowed. “We will discuss this, Nika, do tell me when you’ve perfected your game.”

“Yes sir,” she whispered.

“Nika,” Marina whimpered under her touch. “Ooh,” she exhaled. Nika smiled watching her beloved’s dark curls spread in a halo around her head on the plain white bed in her chamber in Brightcoast. They kissed as Nika slid her fingers between her folds.

She’d never felt this way about anyone. Falling in love with Marina had consumed her so fully. But their relationship had moved slowly, physically. First, because Marina was mourning her relationship with Damian Lestoff and then because Nika had gone home for a while.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” Nika whispered and nibbled on her neck.

“I missed you,” Marina mumbled, sliding her hands under Nika’s robe. “I’m nervous.” Nika smiled.

“I can tell,” she said. “Just touch me how you like to be touched.” They kissed again. After they lay entwined, Marina panting and spent, Nika cooing still riding her own pleasure. “You’re a natural.” Marina giggled.

“I’ve never felt that good,” she mumbled. Nika smirked and rolled onto her belly and leaned on her hands. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“I’m sorry my love,” she said, “but of course it’s better than you’re used to, boys have no idea what our bodies can do for pleasure,” Marina giggled. “When do you go back to Dovetail?”

“Soon,” she sighed, “once he’s settled. Or as settled as he can be.” Her father’s condition had not improved. His fogs of confusion lasted longer, his melancholy seemed permanent. Nika knew it worried her. “You’ll come with us?”

“I think so,” Nika whispered. “If I’m wanted.” Marina smiled and kissed her softly.

“I always want you,” she said.

Dovetail was busy. Mainly they spent their time helping get the university organized, it was Marina’s pet project and Nika liked helping, liked not being afraid of her magic. And she liked being with Marina and her cousin Raymond and Raymond’s partner Evan.

But Nika had also never been jealous before in her life, and she hated the feeling. But the twist in her gut whenever Marina and Tristan Dugarry looked at each other couldn’t be anything else.

“All our lives I thought you were above it,” Brea said one night as Nika had gone outside to get some air.

“What are you talking about?” Nika rolled her eyes at her sister.

“I’m talking about how you look ready to take off your veil and tie it around Sir Tristan’s throat every time he speaks,” Brea teased. “What’s he done to you?” Nika frowned.

“She’s in love with him,” Nika whispered. Brea looked at her.

“Oh,” Brea said. “Oh, Nika I’m sorry.” She looked at her. “But he’s married and Marina doesn’t seem like,” Nika exhaled.

“No, it isn’t like that, they aren’t together, they’re just,” Nika shrugged, “in love.” Brea rested her head on her shoulder. “And I love her.”

“At least you’re with her,” Brea said. Nika nodded. “Try not to hate her. It’s poison.” Nika looked at her.

“I think he misses you,” Nika said. Brea shrugged.

“Last time we were at the keep, Rian proposed again,” Brea whispered.

“Outright?” Nika said. Brea nodded. “What did you say?”

“No, obviously,” Brea rolled her eyes. “I’ll never marry.” Nika nodded.

“Papa will hate that,” she sighed. Brea nodded. “He had such high hopes for you.”

“You’re the one who’s going to succeed him though,” Brea whispered. “Chief Nika Averran.” Nika laughed darkly at that.”

Nika was asleep on a cot, having helped bring a baby and then name her when the flap of her tent opened.

Prince Anders was standing in front of her, her hair was uncovered and he stared for a moment before turning around.

“Anders, what in the world?” She grabbed her veil and covered her head.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen your hair, even when we were children.” She laughed and he turned around, he looked very serious.

“What is it?” She said. “Is Brea alright?” He blinked at her.

“Your sister is, fine,” he swallowed. “We had a messenger last night, Harran sent me, I ride fastest.” She nodded. “From Cammadan.” She exhaled. Marina.

“Is it over?” Nika asked. “Did she do it?”

“Nika,” Anders said softly. “Lord Brayton took the Duchess, they don’t know where.” She stared at him.

“That’s not possible,” Nika shook her head, “if something had happened to Marina I’d have felt it, or seen it.” Anders carefully cupped her face as she started crying and then pulled her close. “Please tell me it’s a lie, Anders, or a mistake.”

“I wish I could, Nika, I’m so sorry,” he said. “But they need you. Queen Annalise wants you to come.” She nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’ll let you get your things together. Harran said he’ll take you to Dovetail.”

“Alright,” she said and went back to her tent. She lit a candle and knelt.

“Amina, Dark Lady,” she whispered, “please, please don’t let her fall. I know what you desire, but I beg you, spare my beloved. Please.” She blew out the candle, grabbed her pack and met Anders at the horses.

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Interlude: The Villain

Brayton felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Marie looked serene, holding Anton’s hands as they exchanged vows.

Mine, the voice in his mind echoed. She’s supposed to be mine. But instead she was marrying Anton. Golden, perfect, careless Anton. He’d be careless with her too, in the end, like his father and his women, like he’d been with everyone else in his life.

Brayton wandered the courtyards and fountains, then into the city, but there was no respite from the sickenly sweet joy.

“Did you see her?” Two young girls he found himself sitting next to in a tavern were talking. “She looked so beautiful.”

“I was too busy looking at the prince,” the other one sighed, “he’s so in love with her, you can see it so plainly.” He stood up and stalked back out to the streets and back to the University and flopped on his cot and slept.

He awoke with a start and was someplace else entirely, a dark marble hall that mirrored the great hall in the palace, but rather than the intricate carved throne, a simple black one sat at one end.

And on the throne was a woman, she was ghostly pale with very light blonde hair, and dressed in whispy black.

“Lady Amina,” Brayton knelt to her. “Have I died?” He’d certainly wanted to. She laughed.

“Of course not,” she said, “but I did want to look at you.” He looked up at her. “You desire revenge?” He swallowed.

“Yes,” he said, meeting the goddess’s eyes.

“It will be yours,” she said softly. “The union of the Tumona line with Dovetail’s is of great pleasure to my siblings. I must have balance with them, your line will provide it.”

“Mine?” Brayton asked. She nodded. “I don’t understand.”

“In time you will,” she said, “do you pledge yourself to me?” She offered her hand.

“Yes, My Lady Amina,” he kissed it. “I am yours.”

He walked into the room where she was waiting.

“You came,” he said, Marie looked at him, her eyes alight with fury.

“I was summoned,” she said. He swallowed. “What is it you want from me?” He stepped closer. She drew back.

“Marie,” he said, “come with me, I can keep you safe.”

“Why should I trust a word you say?” She hissed. “You who banished my husband and threatened my child?”

“Because I love you,” he whispered. She laughed then, not a pleasant laugh but harsh and mocking. “I do Marie, it’s always been you.” She smirked.

“It was one night, ten years ago,” she said, “I didn’t even enjoy it.” He narrowed his eyes. He’d dreamt so many times of that night in Brightcoast, in Marie’s bed, her in his arms. She’d loved him back, he’d known it for sure. “Besides, I thought I was nothing but a deceiving witch, who seduced and corrupted your beloved cousin?”

“Marie,” he sighed.

“Or wait, I’m the innocent jilted wife, small and insignificant, as he pursues his true love, the Countess of Pantona?” She crossed her arms. “Which is it, Brayton? Am I scheming and ambitious or small and wounded?”

“They’ll kill you,” he said, “but I can stop that.” She scoffed. “And Annalise, she could,” he couldn’t even frame the lie. Marie knew, her daughter had to die.

“Do not speak of my daughter again,” she said. “Certainly don’t use her name, how dare you?” He stepped close to her. “I don’t know how you sold your lies, Brayton, but do you truly think I would believe you?” She turned and stalked out of the room.

Two days later he received word that the queen had disappeared from her rooms, and no one knew who she was. He seethed.

It was one night ten years ago. Her voice was haunting him now. And even more. I didn’t even enjoy it.

“She’s a child,” he objected. Amina stared him down.

“I chose her,” The Goddess shrugged. “You surrendered to my will, Brayton Dovetail.” He scowled. “Marina Sanpierre is to birth my sword as Marie bore my sister’s.” Brayton awoke with a start and walked to his window and looked out onto the courtyard. Marina Sanpierre was all of seven years old, and she made a flower bloom.

The gods played tricks. He’d loved one woman in his life, and she was dead, and by the time of her death she’d despised him.

Marie’s face danced in his mind constantly. The look of horror when he’d offered to shelter her and Annalise as Dovetail rose in flames. Her face draining of blood and life as his knife left her gut in the fields of Pantona.

But the girl was powerful, that had never been in doubt. And Amina had chosen her.

“May I help you with something, My Lord?” He was startled by Marina’s appearance in the drawing room. When had she become beautiful? “You sent for me?”

How old was she now? Thirteen or fourteen? The letters she wrote to Tristan Dugarry certainly revealed she was closer to womanhood than he’d realized. Her depth of feeling for the boy would be heartening if it weren’t so inconvenient.

And the resemblance between her and Marie, always present had become overwhelming.

“I did,” he said, “The Sisters tell me your work is going well.” She nodded and kept her eyes down.

“I am very grateful for your interest in my education, My Lord,” she said softly. He stood up and walked over to her. “I’m afraid I’m not progressing well enough to merit it.”

“I’m sure that isn’t so,” he said, lifting her chin. She looked up at him. “Your power is extraordinary, and it needs to be nurtured. Be patient.” He felt his own reserve of patience dwindle.

No, he couldn’t claim Marina Sanpierre until he knew Annalise’s fate. Or at least until he could legally take the throne, which wasn’t for another two years.

“Was there anything else you needed?” She asked, her voice trembling. He smiled.

“No,” he said gently, “I will see you this evening.” She curtsied and walked out.

He sat in the small cell beneath the palace that had been his, when Annalise walked in. He looked at her. He’d heard some of the older guards talking about the young princess, discussing her similarities to her mother.

Idiots. Annalise was nothing like his Marie. She was Anton’s daughter, through and through, brash and arrogant and careless and far too sure of herself. But these visits of hers smelled like something different, something tempered and patient and deeply civilized.

That wasn’t Marie either. That was Caleb Pantona.

“When did you know?” She asked him that day. He raised his eyebrows.

“Know what?” He asked. She frowned.

“That you were chosen,” she said. He smirked.

“On your parents’ wedding day,” he said. Her eyes went dark. Anton again. “Amina asked if I wanted revenge. I did.” She swallowed. “You’re a lost cause to her, of course but I imagine you’d take her up too at this point.”

“I don’t want revenge,” she said sharply, “I want justice.” He laughed.

“No you don’t,” he said, “oh, Caleb tamed you well enough, Cousin, to pass for others, but you’re still Dovetail, still Anessa’s heir. She was a conqueror, heedless and greedy. We lead with our blood, our hearts, we don’t get to be satisfied.” She swallowed, looking afraid. “Your mother never quite understood that.” She turned on her heel and stomped away. “Until next time, Princess.” He called after her with a laugh.

The palace was mostly empty, as Annalise had taken the court to Brightcoast, a practice he’d put a stop to almost immediately.

It was one night ten years ago, Marie’s voice had echoed for the past sixteen. No, there was no need to go to Brightcoast ever again.

“Eat something.” He looked up. He hadn’t seen Sebastian Anselm in maybe twenty years. The Mastero shoved a plate through a small door.

“No appetite,” Brayton said. “What do you care?”

“Annalise wants you to live for reasons surpassing my understanding,” Anselm shrugged.

“Because she’s fighting her nature,” Brayton said. “You know it.” Anselm frowned.

“I never agreed with your assessment of your family’s nature, my Prince,” Anselm said. Brayton looked at him.

“I’m not a Prince, Sebastian,” Brayton said softly.

“Your father’s pride robbed you of the title,” Anselm said. “Though Howard should have fought for you.” Brayton was surprised. “A great many of us failed you. I have a many regrets and your treatment as a boy is among the worst.” Brayton frowned. “It doesn’t change anything of course, but still.”

“So you think she should have killed me,” Brayton leaned back. Anselm nodded. “Why do you think she refrained?”

“Caleb Pantona advised it, and she can’t argue with him now, your fault,” Anselm shrugged, “and she’s always been contrary, the easiest way to get her to do what you like is to tell he not to do it.” Brayton stared baldly at him. “So perhaps that is your legacy to her.”

“She’s Anton’s,” Brayton frowned.

“Not entirely,” Anselm said. “She’s more thoughtful, more open to advice, that’s Marie. And the Pantonas have left their mark, she won’t ever be a distant or ceremonial ruler, her hands will be dirty, she’ll know her people and that was always their way.”

“She would come to see me,” Brayton said, “and just ask questions.” Anselm smiled.

“This unsettled you,” he laughed, “because it’s your way.” Brayton nodded. “You don’t like thinking of her as your kin, she was the obstacle for so long.” Anselm sighed. “Meanwhile, she is treating you as a person, remarkable, difference that.” The old man went to leave but paused. “Marina Sanpierre is remarkable.” Brayton smirked.

“She is,” Brayton said.

“In spite of you,” Anselm said. He turned and left. They didn’t see, without him Marina Sanpierre would have spent her life analyzing sea weed in Brightcoast like her mother had. He had seen her honed and made extraordinary.

He eventually fell asleep.

“You know,” he startled at Amina’s laconic voice, “it isn’t so much that you failed, but how spectacularly you did so.” She was walking, drawing her hands along the bars of the cell. “Not only is the girl even more firmly entrenched in my sister’s light, Annalise Dovetail will likely breed with that lesser son of her island and my brother chose the bitch pup from the merchant twins.” Brayton stared in disbelief at the goddess.

“You managed a visitation to scold me?” He asked. She sighed and flicked a hand and opened the door.

“Fail again and it is the end,” she said. He stumbled out the door. Not a dream at all, then.

He knew he had to work his way south, despite feeling as though he should run very far away.

It was agony, this fall. Pain and fire shooting through him worse than the forced starvation of the last blessings.

And the visions.

Marie, more content in a barn fleeing for her life basking in Anton’s smiles than she’d been in a palace beside him.

Marina, sleeping soundly and peacefully in Tristan Dugarry’s arms.

Marie whispering that she loved Annalise as a baby and would protect her from everything hunting them.

Marina on her knees before Damian Lestoff.

Marie, swallowing and gasping Anton’s name with her last breath.

Marina pleasuring the witch girl.

It was enough to split his mind. Though when it was settled he knew he needed to leave. Getting out of Cammadan had proved tricky, the only train he could follow into passed through Pantona, a massive risk, but that idiot innkeeper, (also featured in a few visions, also with Marina, damn him) had let him pass without thinking. He’d made his way to Rastan and began working as a healer, it was something.

She’d walked in the room and he’d felt it warm up. Raniere had practically run to her. Of course, what man wouldn’t? She’d been a beautiful girl, but womanhood had made her stunning. She was furiously ignoring Lestoff, and given the way the little merchant bitch had attached to him, he shouldn’t be surprised. Carolina Dugarry was either dimmer or more vindictive than he’d anticipated. Repaying her husband’s clear betrayal by taking his lover’s former paramour into her bed was either insane of brilliant. Or possibly both.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Princess Rila said. Brayton smirked at her. He’d sampled the princess’s favors himself. Rila was an amusing diversion. “She’s lovely but that’s surely not a reason for the world to turn upside down, or for my brother to make a fool of himself.”

“To the Cammadie she’s a reminder of Queen Marie,” he explained. Rila frowned. “Who they adored.”

“Mm,” Rila nodded. “More so than their current queen?” He scowled. “You’ve told me you don’t approve of her Braga, no need to pretend now.” He laughed.

“I have obviously never seen her,” he shrugged, “but she was raised as little more than a farmer’s bastard. For all it’s sung of in glory these days Pantona is mostly wheat fields and provincial villages.”

“And Brightcoast?” She asked. He inhaled sharply.

“Two moldering seaside ruins and a fish market,” he said. She giggled. “Shall I come see you tonight?” She shrugged.

“If you like,” she said. “I think you should rescue my brother now.” He grinned and walked over.

He didn’t know what to expect, but Marina’s impertinence and Dugarry’s threat were both shocking. He couldn’t get past Marina as a pliable young girl, barely able to meet his eyes without blushing and Tristan Dugarry as a sullen youth, silent and brooding. The man and woman before him were confident, furious, and obviously deeply cautious.

The sword could fall any day. He knew that.

Marina lay sleeping in the bed he’d laid her in after she fainted. Shadow travel was difficult, and she was already disturbed. He’d lost control in the ice garden, he couldn’t do that again. He wanted her, badly, but he couldn’t rush her.

“Shall I call the goddess,” a shadow guard came. He glared at it.

“Not yet,” he said, “when Lady Marina is carrying the child, we will call her.” It bowed and swept out. The guards upset Marina, they always had. He’d have to keep them away from her. But when she woke he lost his temper again.

He’d seen her brought up meek, soft, submissive, respectful. But five years had broken that. She was willful now, and angry. He shouldn’t have told her about her correspondence with Dugarry. He pulled the book he’d enchanted to track their letters and opened to one.

Dear Tristan,

Lord Brayton observed my lessons today. I had planned to weave a shroud for your mother, as it’s been three years, but instead I was taught how to blend a potion that causes sleep. If your sister is still struggling when you return to Dovetail perhaps she can use it? I gave it to Papa and it helped him.

When are you coming back? Mercy is a fine companion but I miss you. Are you moving to Dorin? Countess Olivia said you might be, that nothing was decided. I hope you don’t. He’s started looking at me a way that gives me shivers. But when you’re here it doesn’t feel so terrible. Please come back soon.

Yours,

Marina

He looked at that one often. The first time she signed Yours, the first time he’d realized her tender feelings for the boy weren’t sisterly, or friendly.

The first time he’d decided that he wouldn’t lose her to another golden, careless, boy. And now he had her. He smiled. Yes, she was his, she always had been.

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