I lay still in his arm and the curve of his body and stared into the dark.
Cassius settled in closer and settled me in closer by nestling me deeper into his frame using his arm about my belly.
One thing in that moment I knew for certain.
This, he and I, were not working.
“I should have gone to see the pixies with you,” he whispered into my hair and burrowed even further into my back at the same time nuzzling my hair with his face. “I regret I did not.”
Oh goddess.
And wasn’t that just the crux of it?
For I would make up my mind that it wasn’t working between us.
Then Cassius would say something like that, and say it holding me like that, snuggling me like that.
And then I’d think that it could.
47
The Plan
Farah
Fifty Miles Inside the Southern Border
WODELL
True woke me with his movements.
I lay, staring into the dark, as he turned from me, and in his sleep—as he had done four times before (not including this time, this made five, and I was most assuredly counting)—he moved agitatedly.
Very agitatedly
But unconsciously.
As he had promised, we went to bed together every night since the night after my mother had been killed.
And as he had promised, in the days, he was the strong one, allowing me to be weak.
This included, after my mother’s funeral…
After her body had been treated, she had been shrouded and I had laid her favorite things about her slab.
And Mars had adorned her dressings from neck to feet with long, delicate chains of gold sparkling with rubies and emeralds and onyx and amethyst.
And Elpis had carefully arranged the jeweled, intricate headdress over the wrappings on her face and head.
And last, True had surprised me after sending a bird and having a man on the fastest horse in Wodell race to Firenze so he could set the gold Dellish scepter on her chest with its large aquamarine jewel at the top. A scepter he shared any mother of a queen of Wodell would be buried with.
Then my mama had been set deep in her clan’s tomb for eternity.
After all of that, we had gone back to the palace with me feeling numb.
And there, in my bed (that had in the time that had passed become True’s and my bed), he’d held me close to him, silently, often rubbing my back, my arms, kneading my neck, doing this for what felt like hours.
Until him doing it made the life start to come back into me.
His patience was astounding.
And beautiful.
He was perfect.
Utterly.
But even in that perfection he was broken.
Completely.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
My mother would have known. Or at the very least, I could have talked to her about it and she would have helped me decide what to do.
But my mother was no longer here.
And it was times like these, and other times I knew would be varied and abundant in the years to come, where I missed her like it had been but moments since she had passed, not weeks.
I also wondered if this feeling would ever ease.
But I could not think of me.
I had to think of True.
I also thought about the conversation I’d had with Mars that day.
For, outside True, he was all I had left.
I knew Elpis wished to heal the breach between us. In fact, she had changed her mind and come on this trip so she could attend my wedding.
And with as little as I now had in my life, I knew it was foolish to resist her advances.
She had not been openly unkind to my mother.
But Elpis had blamed Mama for something she did not do, something Elpis knew she did not do, but she blamed her all the same.
I was having trouble coming to terms with that, and when I shared this with my intended, True advised me that I had enough to come to terms with—the loss of my mother, my impending wedding to him, the Beast rousing—Elpis could wait.
And he was right.
I would have liked to talk to True’s mother about what was troubling her son, but even if I knew True had had words with her about her coldness to me, that coldness had not changed.
Which was something else concerning me for the longer his mother kept her distance from her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, the angrier True became about it.
He tried to hide this from me, and he was good at it.
He did not hide this from his mother, and I could tell she was not fond of it.
And she felt I was the cause of it.
Therefore, I had the suspicion she blamed me.
And since Silence seemed to be avoiding me for whatever reason (perhaps she wasn’t good with grief, though she seemed wholly adept at handling just about everything else that came her way, and a great deal had come her way since this all began)…
And since True was in love with Elena, and he was the one I needed assistance with in the first place…
This left me with Mars.
Who, in the end, had turned out to be the perfect person, even if he did not have the answers I sought, for not only was he like an older brother to me, he was also a trained and tried soldier.
I’d broached it with him that very evening, on the rise of a moor in what I was discovering was the verdant green, gentle land that was Wodell.
After I shared my concerns, Mars was silent for a moment before he said, with no small amount of sadness, “This is common, I’m afraid, my little sister.”
Although it was sad, I had some relief, for if this night agitation was common, perhaps there were those who knew what to do about it.
“As that is so, how do I make this unrest in the nighttime cease for him?” I’d asked.
Mars had slid his arm around my waist and looked down at me, answering carefully, “Sometimes, it never goes away.”
That was not the answer I’d wished to hear.
Mars continued sharing.
“There are normally two kinds of generals, Farah. First are those who order their warriors to advance for the thrill of the battle, the desire to win at all costs. Men like this do not have trouble sleeping. They do not for they do not have the ability to count the true cost as they don’t understand the severity of it. Their warriors might as well be carved of wood and adjusted on a gaming board. They are not flesh and blood. Trajan, Cassius’s brother, was this kind of general.”
I had heard this of Prince Trajan, and I was not a woman to wish ill on anyone, but this, as well as many other things I’d heard about him, made me not think it was so bad he was no longer among us.
“And then there are those who weigh the cost, and lament it, even before their horses advance,” Mars went on. “Therefore, they do not advance unless they are assured their strategy will lead to as little loss as possible, with as much as possible to gain. These men, like Cassius, like myself, might not find sleep easy or we will face other reminders of what an order from our lips means to a soldier. It is inevitable. It cannot be escaped. It is, for a true general, yet another cost of battle.”
I had stared up at him, not liking that it was clear, in some way, he faced these same things.
Also knowing he was not quite done.
He wasn’t.
“True is a third type of general, cara. For he is forced to go into battle by men who are not soldiers at all, giving orders he knows are reckless, but he has no choice but to issue them, sustaining losses that could have been avoided. And as such, as much as it injures me to share this with you, I cannot say what you could do to help True to find some peace.”
Mars was very wise. I had great hope he could assist me.
Therefore, this was a grave disappointment.
He’d then wrapped his other arm around me, held me in his brotherly embrace, and said into the top of my hair, “Though, y
ou do have those close who know him well. My wife, for one. His lieutenants are others. I suggest you seek them out and share your concerns. Perhaps they can be more help than me.”
“Silence does not wish my company so much these days,” I noted carefully, for it wasn’t only my company I’d noticed she was avoiding.
He sighed.
“Is all well?” I asked.
“Ah, Farah. True to you, concerning yourself with me,” he replied on a squeeze of his arms. “Do not. If there was a time when you need to look after yourself, it is now.”
This might be correct, but I was still worried.
I tipped my head back and caught his eyes. “But Mars—”
Another squeeze, a different one, stopped my words.
“All will be well with my new wife and I,” he assured, finishing with, “In time.”
I did not know if I should share what I right then wanted to share. True had told me in the privacy of our tent within days of setting off to Wodell, and I did not think he told me thinking I would tell anyone else.
But if it would help Mars, and Silence, I needed to share it.
“True has noticed this as well, Mars, and he fears she should not have accompanied you to the necropolis.”
At this statement, Mars’s brows drew together in puzzlement.
He then announced, “He is not correct in these fears. My queen appeared bored throughout our activities in the necropolis. Indeed, she practically fell asleep at the pits.”
“I had heard this,” I murmured.
“She is much stronger than True thinks,” Mars declared. “In fact, all those Dellish have underestimated her, from what I can see, since she drew her first breath. This is why it is good she is now Firenz. She is with her kind now. And being with us, she will flourish.”
If Mars believed that, I did too.
And at the very least, it pleased me to know he was proud of his bride.
They did not seem as happy as they had before they wed.
But Mars was like his father. He could do anything.
He’d lead their way.
Our conversation ended not long after that, with Mars again suggesting I seek one of True’s men, or Silence, to discuss my qualms.
However, prior to retiring, I had not been able to do this.
Which meant, with what seemed to be my luck, True would have another episode that very night.
And that he was doing.
I waited, and his agitation did not calm, and I did not like it.
But I did like him, so I knew I had to do something about it.
I made a decision, pushed up in bed, reached to the stand beside it, and found the stick flints. I struck one, opening the cage to the lamp, and lit it.
I blew out the flint, tossed it to the stand and twisted the knob so the illumination was brighter.
That done, I turned to my intended.
I reached out tentatively and touched his shoulder.
Even with a light touch, I could feel his skin was hot, even feverish, and clammy.
“Oh, True,” I whispered.
When he did not wake, even with some careful pressure, I curled my fingers around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.
He came up so fast, his long arm flying out, I recoiled and would have toppled over the side of the bed if True had not caught my arms.
Caught them hard.
The pads of his fingers digging.
And he was staring at me through the lamplight, right at me, but also right through me.
It was clear he didn’t see me.
I didn’t know what he saw.
But I knew it was terrible.
“True,” I whispered, lifting a hand between us.
He made no response, just sat there, his grip tight, his eyes haunted.
I had to stop this.
“True!” I called sharply, wrapping my fingers hard around his neck.
With a violent shake of his body, and of me in his hands, his head jerked, and I knew the moment his focus had returned.
“Farah?” He looked down, saw he had a hold on me and his grasp loosened, but he did not let go entirely. “What on—?”
“You seemed to be having an…” What word to use? “Odd dream.”
He stared at my torso.
I tried not to stare at his.
True slept in loose pants made of a lightweight material that were held up by a string tied under his navel.
Although the Dellish way of men dressing—with frock coats and waistcoats and high-collared shirts, some with neckcloths (though True didn’t often wear these) and frilly, lace cuffs frothing out from the sleeves of their jackets (and True did not wear these either, though I had seen a straight edge with a protruding point at the cuff and the wink of a malachite on the shirt he’d worn to Mars and Silence’s wedding)—I felt was actually quite attractive (the way True wore them).
That said, his sleep pants were by far my favorite item of his attire.
Because he looked good in them.
Also because they left his chest bare.
His stomach was trim, flat and boxed.
His ribs were ridged.
His chest defined.
His shoulders dented by the deep cut of his collarbone.
And he was hairless there.
All of this was attractive.
Very attractive.
But it was the veins.
The veins that traced up his forearms and over the bulges of his upper arms.
Though mostly it was the veins that tracked from underneath his sleep pants at his pelvis up the plane of his flat stomach toward his navel.
Not to mention the deep indentations that circled his hips, something I could see as sometimes those pants rode low, and I watched avidly when they did as he walked about my room and then our tent, blowing out lamps of an evening.
He was lean and sinewy up top in a way that, even then, with all that was happening, made my mouth water.
So much, with him staring at my torso like that, my eyes could not deny themselves the opportunity to return the favor.
At first look, I bit my lower lip.
“Farah.”
I forced my gaze back to his.
This was not entirely difficult.
He had the most beautiful green eyes in the world.
“The light is on,” he noted. “Are you all right?”
No.
I was not all right.
My mother was dead.
I was to be made princess of a foreign land, doing this being wed to a man I was falling in love with. A man who was in love with another woman.
And he was plagued by ghosts that haunted his dreams and I had no idea what to do about it.
“I, yes…well, no. You…that is, I was sleeping and…”
It occurred to me as I blathered that this was True.
The only way to make him all right was to make him feel useful.
“We near Notting Thicket,” I blurted.
“Not really,” he muttered. “At this pace, we’ll be there next year.”
I felt my lips quirk for he was right. We were proceeding very slowly.
“We’re nevertheless no longer in Firenze,” I told him.
Understanding, or the understanding I wished him to believe, dawned in his eyes and they grew gentle.
“This is true,” he said, falling back with his hands on me so I fell with him.
He then slid his arms around and cuddled me close.
This was not an unusual circumstance. In fact, I fell asleep in his arms every night.
But he’d never kissed me.
He hadn’t even tried.
He hadn’t even appeared like he was going to try.
“It’ll be all right,” he assured. “And as we’re both awake, I’ll share what I decided earlier. We shall delay our wedding further. At least a month. I’ll speak with mother about it in the morning.”
I lifted my head, which had fallen to rest on his shoulder, t
o look at his face.
“A month?”
He tipped his chin to catch my eyes.
“I wish you to see the Doors. I also wish you to see the Lights.”
“The Doors and the Lights?”
He nodded and explained.
“The Doors are in the southern part of the Great Thicket Forest. Centuries ago, gnomes made their homes in the trees, using magic. They carved out the trunks and built up, but in so doing, their castings kept the trees alive, which they still are to this day. The gnomes still live in them, and if they allow you in,” he grinned at me, “and they like me, so they allow me in, they’ll show you.”
“Of course they like you,” I said.
He made no reply, just gave me a squeeze. But the skin around his eyes softened.
“And that sounds remarkable,” I continued.
“It is,” he agreed. “Mighty trees with these beautifully carved doors in the trunks, dozens upon dozens of them. I can only stick my head in and look up in most of them. Some of the bigger ones, I can enter, only crouched low. But they’re extraordinary and they’d be most proud to show you.”
“I would like that,” I said softly. “And the Lights?”
“Direct in the middle of Great Thicket,” he shared. “There’s a tall rise there, and I do not know what causes it, you can’t see them anywhere else in Wodell, but some nights, the skies dance with lights. Bright pinks and blues and greens and violets. The sprites have hung lights in the trees that are attuned to the dancing lights. When the skies light up, little balls illuminate in the trees. It doesn’t happen every night. It doesn’t even happen often. But when it does, it’s magnificent.”
“It sounds so,” I agreed, for it did. I’d never heard of anything like it.
“We shall hope it happens when we’re there. And we’ll remain if they don’t, for a time, to see if they will. There’s a charming village close by with an inn that has warm, inviting rooms and a pub where they make delicious pies and sandwiches. There’s also a bakery that makes chocolate custard swirls, the best in Wodell. And a shop that sells crystals from all over the earth. Even the Northlands and Southlands and Mystics.”
“I may wish to go there just for the village.”
His face grew gentle and he used the backs of his knuckles to stroke up on down my arm, murmuring, “You need some magic, sweets. And you need some time. Last, you need to fall in love with your new home.”
The Plan Commences Page 16
