Galenos stared down the Councilor. “The Storm Petrels are my brother’s company,” he began in clipped tones. “We still need their protection, too, because we have many enemies who are watching Kyratia at this very moment, just looking for the opportunity to destroy us. If we show any sign of weakness, they won’t hesitate to attack. We need to replenish their numbers to full strength.”
He didn’t raise his voice or lift a finger toward Charis, but the merchant felt the duke’s cold rebuke all the same. He shrank down into his seat and didn’t raise any other protests.
Galenos turned and looked at Korinna, leveling that same withering stare at her. “So you see why we need even more money than before. Spending money is another show of strength,” he said, not for the first time. “Rebuilding this city even better than before, innovating a new school, any other projects we can manage to show our wealth—perhaps a palace,” he added, his voice softening to encouragement. “Have you met with an architect to begin the plans for our palace?”
Korinna resisted the urge to taunt him like a child. He would go on about a palace! Her father, the late duke, had once had a lavish mansion for hosting parties and showing off to ambassadors from other cities, but the crystalbell bug infestation there had been so bad that they had to tear it down. When they were married, Galenos had bought them a modest house with only a handful of servants. She was comfortable there, but he kept insisting that it wasn’t fitting for their stature as duke and duchess.
Honestly, it felt like he was trying to just find a distraction for her, a fluff project for her to handle while he dealt with all of the real responsibilities of ruling. She was supposed to be his equal partner, but she knew he thought her too young and inexperienced to do much. She didn’t want to put her effort into picking out a style of pillars or selecting roof tiles when there was important work to be done. She might find these meetings boring, but she knew the decisions they made affected the lives of thousands of people. If she could just find a project that interested her—like building an emergency store of food—she could make better contributions as duchess.
“I’m meeting with an architect tomorrow,” Korinna said to placate him. She didn’t have an appointment yet, but she did have a list of architects from him, and surely one of them would jump at the chance to see the duchess even on short notice. “But if you’re looking for money, don’t we have that trial coming up for the traitors who took over the city? We could punish them by seizing their assets—especially the ones who are already dead.”
Around the table, some of the Councilors exchanged nervous looks and shifted uncomfortably. Most of them were newly appointed because the previous Councilors were arrested for treason or died in the same battle to free the city from wyld magic. They were eager to prove their loyalty to the new duke, but they also enjoyed a certain amount of wealth from their positions in representing the city’s Guilds. If a Councilor retired or was removed from office, they usually kept their money, or it stayed with their families when they died. To have the former Councilors’ families punished by losing their money must seem harsh to them.
But like Korinna, Galenos wanted harsh punishments for the traitors so no one would want to betray them again. He leaned back in his chair with a smile. “That’s an interesting suggestion. I’ll have to discuss it with our legal counsel to see if we’re entitled to their estates, but it seems like a fitting punishment.”
Korinna nodded. “It’s the same thing they did to me, after all. When you and I defied the last Council, they seized my land and money, even though they’d said earlier that I was entitled to keep my father’s gifts.” It was just one more thing she blamed Pelagia and the other traitors for. She’d wanted to give her old estate, Anoberesovo, back to the people who lived there so they could run the farm for themselves—and she had finally done that, once they wrested it back from the Council. Her old steward and mentor, Myron, made the major decisions for the estate, but the profits were shared among all of the families who worked the land.
“Very good, then.” Galenos made another note in his ledger. “If we can fine the traitors, then we’ll see how much money that nets us and we can reconsider the budget at that time.”
***
The Council meeting wore on late into the day, with discussions continuing during the noon meal without a break. By the time they were finished, Korinna was exhausted from talking and listening to so many mundane details. She wondered, fondly, if she might have time for another flight with Sungold before the sun went down. But Galenos picked up her saddle from their office and offered to carry it home for her, and she realized that she didn’t have the energy to think of lugging it all the way back to the military compound herself.
Despite their earlier arguments, she had to smile at the sight of him in his fancy tunic and kattar with a dirty saddle on his shoulder, leaving oil stains behind on the fine fabrics. “That’s sweet of you.” She stood up on tiptoe so she could kiss his cheek.
Galenos smiled and caught her with his free hand, pulling her into another kiss. “I thought I owed you a favor after losing my temper this morning,” he murmured in the soft tone he used only when they were alone. “I confess that I was surprised when I heard cheering outside and thought you must have arrived by parade or some other ridiculous fanfare. Did you mean to attract such a crowd?”
She shook her head. “No, I was just trying to get here as quickly as I could, and I didn’t stop to think what reaction it might spark outside. I felt guilty for making you wait.” She laughed at herself. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
He offered her his arm and she accepted it, letting him escort her out of the building. The guards nodded to them at the door and they nodded back, but no one followed them, and only a few commoners in the courtyard outside even turned their heads to look. Of course, they stood out on the streets—Khazeem were a rarity, especially one dressed as nicely as Galenos, and Korinna was still in her mercenary uniform—but although most people recognized them as the duke and duchess, they walked home every evening without being disturbed. When it was just the two of them, without a retinue of clerks to do their bidding or petitioners asking for favors, she could imagine them as normal people going home to supper after a long day of work.
She liked him best when they were alone. The weight of leadership lifted from his shoulders, making him a little less serious. Now that they were used to each other’s presence, he relaxed around her and showed more of his emotions. A year ago when they first met, she thought he was cold and unfeeling as a stone, but she’d come to realize that he guarded his inner thoughts out of fear of being hurt. She was learning to recognize the subtle signs of how he really felt hidden underneath his stern exterior.
She could tell now by the way his eyebrows furrowed together that he still had something on his mind. She leaned her head against his arm and looked up at him. “What is still bothering you?”
He tilted his head back to gaze up into the darkening sky. “Nightshade.” The name came out like a sigh of regret. “You’re right, I don’t spend enough time with her. With everything else going on, I’ve let her fall by the wayside.”
“Do you want to go see her now?” she asked hopefully. Perhaps she could muster up the energy for a short flight after all.
But he shook his head. “No, it’s late.” He looked down at her and smiled. “I know you’re tired and hungry, so we’ll get back and see what supper Egina has ready for us. But first thing tomorrow, I’ll go flying with you, and I’ll make an effort to join you more often.” He raised his eyebrows. “Does that seem fair?”
She squeezed his arm happily. “I can’t wait. Nightshade will be glad to see you, too.” Sometimes Nightshade flew alongside Sungold on their morning flights, but no one could tend to or ride her except Galenos, and Korinna could see her disappointment every day when there was no sign of her rider.
They talked about inconsequential things the rest of the way home, leaving behind the problems of
government for the evening. When they came to their small two-story house in a modest neighborhood, the smells of a home-cooked meal drifted out through the open windows. With summer fast approaching, the days were getting hot, and it was nice to have a breeze through the house to cool it down in the evening.
Inside the front door, Korinna paused and knelt in the alcove which held the ancestor shrine. After a moment’s hesitation, Galenos joined her, bowing his head in prayer. She lit two candles at the altar—one in front of the death mask for her father, Duke Basileos, and one for her mother, Pherenia.
Their prayers appeased the spirits of the dead in the Dry Lands of the afterlife. In the troubled months after his death, Korinna’s father had appeared to her several times, a silent reminder that he could not rest until Kyratia’s future was secured. When Korinna and Galenos had finally liberated the city and taken control, Basileos’s ghost was satisfied, and she hadn’t seen him again. She thought that her parents might still be watching over her from afar, but she mostly hoped that they were happy together now as they had never been able to be in life.
When they were finished, Galenos offered her a hand up and led her the rest of the way into the house. Like most houses in Kyratia, it was built in a rectangle of rooms opening into a central courtyard with no roof, filled with a flourishing garden and a patio for relaxation. The front of the house was nicer, with bedrooms on the second floor for both of them, while the servants lived in the back of the house, but all of them had nice views of the courtyard. During the winter storms the courtyard had been too wet to enjoy, but now at the end of the year with the weather drying up, they’d moved the furniture back outside. There was a round table in the middle of the patio, surrounded by chairs, and couches for lounging among the flowering plants and trees of the garden.
Children buzzed around the table, bringing dishes out from the kitchen in the back of the house. Egina, the cook and housekeeper, wasn’t in sight so she was probably still putting the finishing touches on the food, but her children were the rest of the household staff and they knew what to do without direction. The oldest boy, Hermippos, at fifteen and almost a man, carried the biggest dish, a heavy tray with roasted chicken and garlic; the youngest one, Tithon, who at four years old was barely tall enough to reach the table, still had his own task of setting out the silverware. The other three were just as busy with their work.
Galenos and Korinna stopped at the edge of the patio to stay out of their way. Aristia, the younger girl who was almost twelve, looked up when she saw them enter and skipped over to meet them. She cocked her head to one side as she habitually did so her good ear was tilted up toward them. “Will you want to change before dinner, m’lady?” she asked Korinna.
Korinna knew that the proper thing to do would be to get out of her flight leathers, but now that they were alone in their own home, she didn’t really care about looking proper. She laughed and shook her head. “No, I’m too hungry to wait. This all smells so good!”
Galenos set the saddle down on the ground and looked at his own stained clothes ruefully, but he shrugged it off. “We might as well sit down before this food gets cold.”
Hermippos hurried over and picked the saddle up off the ground. “I’ll get that for you, m’lord. Shall I take it up to the lady’s room?”
Korinna nodded. “Yes, you can just leave it on the floor somewhere that it won’t get tripped over. I will tend to it later.” Along with her wardrobe of fine clothes that suited a duchess, she kept her riding tack hanging in her room along with her old uniform and other loose outfits that she could wear for exercising. She tended to get restless when she couldn’t stay active.
Hermippos nodded and carried the saddle upstairs, the heavy weight barely slowing him down. With his strength, he could make a fine soldier in a year’s time if he wanted to join. Korinna thought they had more than enough help in such a small house, and without schooling or an apprenticeship, there weren’t many opportunities for a boy like him. Most soldiers were driven to the life because they had nothing else. But she wouldn’t suggest that path to him, since she knew how most of society looked down on mercenaries. They could afford to keep paying him if he wanted to stay as a servant with the rest of his family.
Galenos pulled out a chair for Korinna to sit down, then took his own place beside her. The children finished setting out the food and Egina emerged from the kitchen, wiping her face with the corner of her apron.
“Welcome home, m’lord, m’lady,” she said, ducking her head politely. She took her seat next to Korinna. That was the signal for the children to sit down, too, filling the rest of the seats at the table.
In Anoberesovo, Korinna had grown up eating with her household staff as if they were her own family, and she didn’t see the need to change once she was living in the city as a duchess. Galenos had gradually warmed up to the idea and now, months later, they were all comfortable sitting and talking together around one table.
Egina and her older daughter, thirteen-year-old Xenia, were the most talkative along with Korinna. They discussed the day’s events: Korinna’s flight with Sungold and the crowd she’d drawn when she landed in front of City Hall, Egina’s trip to the market, gossip Xenia had heard from servant girls she’d befriended in the neighbors’ houses.
Galenos ate quietly for most of the meal, savoring the food. Along with the chicken, there was flatbread, mixed green salad with cucumber and crumbled goat cheese, cured olives, and fig turnovers for dessert. Some of it came from their own vegetable garden in the back, and all of it was simple fare like Korinna had grown up eating in the country. Galenos still encouraged her to try exotic foods from time to time, and she’d come to like some of the spices and other strange things he favored, but Egina was a Kyratian cook who didn’t know anything else. Korinna appreciated the comfort of familiar food in her own home.
When they were finished eating and the children started to clear the dishes away, Galenos reached for her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “You must be tired,” he said gently, but his eyes questioned her.
She smiled and squeezed his hand back encouragingly. “Not too tired, my dear,” she said with a wink. The food had rejuvenated her, and she was happy to say yes to his unspoken question.
They stood up and his arm snaked around her waist, slipping under her tunic to find the bare skin of her stomach. “If you’re sure,” he said, bending his face down to her. “We’ll have to get up extra early in the morning if I’m going to have time to fly with you. There’s no council meeting tomorrow, but I do have other appointments to keep.”
She stroked his cheek, always smooth although she’d never seen him shave, unlike Seirenian men who grew heavy hair on their faces and most other parts of their bodies. “I’m sure,” she whispered. She wanted to kiss him, but they preferred not to be too demonstrative in front of others. She’d wait until they were in private.
He kept his arm around her as they went up the stairs. His bedroom was at the top of the stairs and hers was farther down the hall, and he was always respectful of her personal space, never coming to join her unless she invited him. But she invited him often. He wasn’t the first man she’d ever been with—in the three years of womanhood before she’d met him, she’d had a few other lovers—but there was a new excitement in living with someone, to falling asleep in his arms and waking up next to him in the morning. And Galenos was attentive, taking time to learn what she enjoyed, so their connection had only deepened over the months.
Maybe it was only the eagerness of newlyweds that kept drawing them together, but Korinna was happy to indulge while it lasted. And she knew, although they hadn’t spoken of it yet, that there was another responsibility they had to their people. The last duke’s reign had ended in chaos because there was no clear heir to take his place. Korinna hoped that Galenos and she would have many children to carry on their legacy.
She waited until her bedroom door swung open before she turned in his arms and pulled him down for
the kiss at last. She tasted red wine and figs from dessert on his lips. He scooped her up off the floor, carrying her into the room, and kicked the door closed behind them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, finally free to do what she wanted, feeling a rush of sensation that rivaled the joy of flying with Sungold.
“I love you,” she whispered in his ear.
His arms tightened around her and he buried his face in her hair, which had come loose despite her multiple attempts to restrain it. “I love you, too.”
Galenos I
Flying in the morning was an invigorating start to the day. Galenos was glad he’d gone along with his wife’s request, and just as she’d promised, Nightshade was more than eager to see him, bounding toward him across the field without any of her usual hesitation. She sniffed him all over as if to make sure he was still the same. Out of guilt for his long absence, he fed her a pickled cloudfruit, although he knew that he still had to save his personal stores for another half year. Cloudfruits held some kind of magic that aided the marewings’ ability to fly, but they were only available to harvest once a year, and all riders saved some and learned to ration it out over the sixteen months so their marewings would stay fast and strong in the air.
He wondered, not for the first time, what wild marewings did the rest of the year, since he didn’t think they were able to save any cloudfruits for themselves. But most marewings didn’t have the strenuous life of a mercenary’s mount, flying long distances and fighting battles. Perhaps eating the fruit only once a year fueled their magic enough for their everyday lives. It was one of the many mysteries of the monsters, because no one saw marewings in the wild often enough to learn about their behavior.
Now that he was retired from fighting, he flew with Nightshade for the sheer joy of it. It wasn’t very duke-like to put on his old uniform and glide over the city, but most dukes didn’t have a past as a marewing rider, and since marewings lived thirty years or more, becoming a rider was a lifelong commitment that he couldn’t just abandon when his circumstances changed. Korinna had embraced their dual roles, flying every chance she got. The populace seemed to admire it, so why not? She was right that he owed Nightshade more of his time.
A Pride of Gryphons Page 2
