by M. J. Scott
"So you want to run?"
"Maybe. I want us to be free, don't you?"
"I want us to be happy. I want you to be happy." He kissed the top of her head. "So call your demon, and let's ask her more questions.”
The conversation went quickly at first. Elarus confirmed what she had already told them. That she could remove their bond, which would make it difficult for a mage to track them. News that made Cameron's face darken, though he held his tongue.
"How long would it take?" Sophie asked.
"Fast," Elarus said. "You want?"
"No! Not now. We're just interested."
"Is it noisy?" Cameron interjected.
Elarus tilted her head. "Noise?"
"The mages here all felt when you and Sophie did what you did. There's no point breaking the bond if doing so would alert every mage nearby that something was happening."
He was right, of course.
"No noise," Elarus said. "Breaking is different to bonding."
That didn't lighten Cameron's expression any. "Could you make the bond again?"
Elarus shook her head slowly. "Human thing. Not sanctii."
"We can do that part ourselves," she said. "We did it once before."
"We can hardly roll you over a ley line just as your magic manifests a second time," Cameron said.
"We would work it out, together." Now wasn't the time to bring up again that one reason to break the bond would be to let them separate for a time, to hide more easily apart. Now wasn't the time to continue this conversation at all, if she was any judge of Cameron's temper. She would ask Elarus what she knew about visions in the morning. Right now Cameron needed sleep. As she did. And food. Or food and then sleep, she didn't really know or care which order.
She thanked Elarus and the sanctii disappeared.
Cameron stared at the spot where she had stood, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
"Do you want to eat or sleep?" she asked.
"Is this conversation done?"
"For now," she said. It was the best she could give him. "Unless you want to keep going?"
"Goddess, no," he said. He pressed his thumbs to his temples. "Food. I need food."
That solved that problem. She crossed the room and used the charm to summon a maid.
Cameron excused himself to go and wash up before dinner. Or to go and curse somewhere she couldn't hear him perhaps.
She sat by the fire to wait for him, resisting the urge to lie down on the bed. If she did that, she wouldn't wake until morning.
The doorbell chimed not long after Cameron returned, and she opened it to find one of the kitchen maids with a fully laden trolley.
"We hadn't ordered anything yet," she said, confused.
"No, my lady but the healers sent a message to say if you hadn't by the time the main hall was served, then we were to send some. We were getting ready to bring this to you any way. There is a tea for Lord Scardale that he is to drink. In the blue pot, my lady."
"All right, thank you." She stepped back to let the woman in. As the trolley rumbled forward, a familiar squawk came from the corridor and Tok landed on the floor a few feet away from the door. He squawked again and then hopped to Sophie's feet and pecked at the hem of her dress. "Caw."
"Hello," Sophie said. Which earned her another peck. She twitched the hem back. "Don't do that. I'm sorry I haven't been here today, but look, I'm fine." She bent down and stretched a finger toward the bird. He tapped it with his beak, then rubbed his head against it, the movement oddly cat-like. "You go to bed, Tok. They will be wondering where you are. And we aren't going anywhere tonight."
The bird looked back down the corridor and spread his wings, ruffling his feathers.
"You go have your dinner. I'm going to have mine." She rubbed a finger down his back, and he leaned into it again. He was getting harder to resist. Perhaps she should ask Madame how one went about bonding a petty fam. In a few more days. After everyone had time to calm down about Elarus. Though, if she and Cameron decided to leave.... Perhaps not. "Go on now," she said gently, trying to ignore the sudden pang of sorrow at the thought she might have to leave Tok behind.
"Persistent beasties, aren't they?" the kitchen maid said from behind her. "They come around the door to the kitchens, begging for scraps. We're not supposed to feed them, the Master of the Ravens doesn't like it, but we do sometimes. Better to have them on your side, I think."
"Yes," Sophie agreed. She straightened, and Tok squawked again. She shook her head at him. "Go. I need my dinner. You need yours. I will see you in the morning." She smiled at the kitchen maid. "Thank you for bringing the meal."
"My pleasure, my lady." She looked down at Tok. "If you come with me back to the kitchen, I can find you a treat before you go back to the tower. Cook was making pate earlier. I'm sure there were liver scraps. The raven master won't know."
Tok clicked his beak enthusiastically and launched himself into the air, disappearing down the corridor.
Sophie laughed. "Liver seems popular. I must remember that."
"Is he to be your fam, my lady?" the maid asked curiously.
"Maybe," Sophie said. "We shall see."
The maid nodded. "These things take time. And I must be on my way. If he gets to the kitchen before me and starts annoying the others, they'll shoo him off, and he'll come back to bother you. Then we'll both have the Master of the Ravens looking for our heads."
"We wouldn't want that," Sophie agreed. "Thank you again."
When she went back into the room, she found Cameron, damp hair shining in the firelight, arranging plates and covered bowls and baskets on their small table.
"The tea in the blue jug is for you," Sophie said. "Rachelle's orders."
Cameron eyed the jug dubiously. "I might start with food," he said. "In case it's one of those healer teas that tastes like three-weeks-dead carrion."
"As long as you drink it eventually," Sophie said.
"Rachelle wouldn't know if I tipped it out the window," Cameron offered, looking unenthusiastic.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sophie said. "Besides, you need to drink it. I want you at full strength in case I get the urge to have my way with you."
He laughed and held out one of the chairs for her. "That's an incentive I cannot resist."
Hunger kept them silent for the next twenty minutes as they made short work of the food, which Sophie was pleased to see included several pieces of the lemon cake Lia had mentioned.
She was devouring a slice when the chimes sounded again. "What now?" she muttered through a half-full mouth.
Cameron shrugged and went to the door. There was a quick murmur of voices, and then the sound of paper tearing after the door closed again.
"A note from Imogene?" Sophie asked, still intent on finishing her dessert.
"No," Cameron said and something in his tone made her look up.
"Who then?" She asked.
Cameron held out the piece of paper, and she saw the heavy wax seal on the bottom. The cake turned to stones in her stomach.
"The emperor," she breathed.
"Yes.” Cameron said. "We are summoned, it seems." His tone was grim, and she regretted that more than the cake. She didn't want to be the wife who brought that sound to her husband's voice.
"When?" Perhaps it could wait to morning. If it could, then it couldn't be bad news, could it?
"Now," Cameron said.
Chapter 7
The emperor stood with Imogene, Colonel Perrine—the chief of the Imperial mages—and another tall blond man Sophie judged to be somewhere around thirty. His face was handsome—strikingly so—but coldly stern as he gestured at a piece of paper that lay on the table behind them. The other three didn't look pleased with what he was saying.
All four looked up when the servant cleared his throat and said, "Lord and Lady Scardale."
"Your Imperial Majesty," Sophie said, dipping into a hasty curtsy.
"Lady Scardale," Aristides held up a hand. "Lord
Scardale. If you could wait there." He turned back to the blond man and motioned for him to continue. Imogene broke away from the group to join Sophie and Cameron.
"Major," Cameron said. Imogene didn't quibble about his choice of address. So. They were here for a matter where she was an Imperial mage, not a duquesse.
"Lord Scardale, Lady Scardale." Imogene nodded. She stood in front of Sophie, partially blocking her view of the emperor and his companions.
"Major du Laq." Sophie bobbed another curtsy before she realized that perhaps she shouldn’t if Imogene was using her rank, not her title.
Imogene's mouth twitched, but she made no comment.
"What's going on?" Cameron asked in a low tone shaded more toward demand than question.
"His Imperial Majesty will tell you shortly." Imogene’s blue eyes were sympathetic, but her face stayed impassive.
Cameron frowned. "Can you at least tell us who that is with the colonel?" He gestured to the three men standing by the table.
Imogene’s mouth flattened. "That is Lucien de Roche. As of a few months ago, also the Marq of Castaigne."
"Oh? And what does he do when he's not being a lord?" Cameron asked. Imogene turned toward the emperor, leaving Sophie with a clear view of the man.
He wore Imperial mage black, like Imogene. The Imperial mages held ranks within the emperor's army, but Sophie didn't know what all of them were. Or if there were any special ranks for mages. Imogene was a major and wore golden suns on her collar as badges of that rank. Whatever insignia decorated the marq's collar was done in black, and from this distance, merged with the fabric so she couldn't determine its shape.
"Lord Castaigne is a Truth Seeker," Imogene said.
Truth seeker. The way Imogene said those words suggested they were a title, not a general description of the man.
"What is that exactly?" Sophie asked quietly. Lord Castaigne glanced over briefly but turned back to the emperor when Aristides said something Sophie couldn't quite make out. Whoever he was, he looked immaculate, black clothes unwrinkled and unstained, long boots gleaming. His blond hair, ruthlessly tamed into a queue, also spoke of control and restraint. The only thing out of place in the severe angles and planes of his face, were his eyes, a curiously smoky shade of green that stood out against his pale skin even at a distance. A color that seemed somehow too wild when compared to the rest of him.
Imogene turned back and gestured for them to all move farther away. Sophie followed her. Until the emperor decided to include them in the conversation, there was nothing to do but wait. Better to spend that time finding out whatever information Imogene was free to share with them.
"Truth seeking is an unusual talent," Imogene said, her right hand toying with the buttons of her severely tailored left cuff before stilling again. "They are illusioners, but they work with the judiciary and the military in matters of crime. People call them the emperor's all-seeing ravens. They can monitor interrogations or help...facilitate a confession."
"Torture?" Sophie swallowed. She'd been under no misapprehension as to what was likely to happen to Sevan when he'd been dragged out of the throne room by the emperor’s guards.
"Not exactly," Imogene said. "Not bodily harm." Her lips pursed. "But they can show things to a prisoner that might persuade them to cooperate."
"Such as?"
"Images of the crime. Images of their likely fate," Imogene said. "Whatever may work. But truth seekers also somehow know when someone is lying. It is not a common talent. Some say they have the sight, as water mages do. Lord Castaigne has a reputation for being very good at his work. They say he never gives up. Can never be swayed. Some might call it ruthless."
There was an edge to her voice. Whoever this lord was, Imogene did not appear to approve. Given she herself was an Imperial mage, a major at that, and the wife of one of the most powerful duqs in the empire, Sophie was hard pressed to imagine what a truth seeker might do that Imogene might disapprove of.
On second thought, she was better off not trying. She had enough to worry about without letting her imagination add to the list.
"This is about Sevan, then?" she said. What else might someone with the abilities Imogene had described, be doing for Aristides that could possibly concern Cameron and her?
Imogene's brows lifted. Sophie's jaw tightened. Illvyans. Just because she didn't want a damn crown for herself didn't mean she was stupid. "What else could it be?" Sophie said, voice sharper than strictly polite.
Aristides had said that he would question Barron Deepholt and James Listfold before putting them on a ship back to Anglion. They might have had something to tell that might be relevant, but she didn't believe they had any part of Sevan's plot.
Hopefully Aristides had treated them with some degree of care, with respect to their diplomatic status, if nothing else.
Roughing up an ambassador was not the done thing. Of course, Aristides might consider himself above such trifling concerns, but she hoped—for the barron's and James's sakes—that he had not completely lost his senses. She had no fondness for the barron, but James was part of Cameron's family. His sister-in-law's brother.
But before Imogene could respond, the emperor said, "It seems we are at an impasse. Thank you, Lucien"—in a somewhat disgruntled tone—“Let’s get this over with.”
Sophie, Cameron, and Imogene all turned. Besides, the emperor, Colonel Perrine was rolling up the piece of paper they’d been studying, though something about the expression on his face made Sophie think that perhaps he'd rather have been tearing it to pieces. She suppressed the shiver that threatened to crawl up her spine despite the overly warm room. The emperor’s expression spoke of news that was unpleasant, if not outright awful.
Aristides beckoned. There was no choice but to obey the summons. Cameron moved closer to Sophie as they walked to the table.
"Lord and Lady Scardale, this is Lucien de Roche, Marq of Castaigne," Aristides said, his words somewhat brusque.
The emperor was in a mood. Sophie braced herself, then remembered she should be curtsying to Lord Castaigne. His rank of Marq was equivalent to Cameron's Barron, but it was still polite to curtsy when being introduced.
But before she could, Lucien bowed. A brief but perfectly executed movement that suggested he was impatient with the whole business. Sophie kept her response along the same lines. Now that she was closer, she could see that the insignia on his collar was a stylized bird. An all-seeing raven?
"Lord Castaigne was supervising the interrogation of your Mestier Allowood," Aristides continued.
Was? Sophie swallowed, stomach suddenly far beyond cold. "I see," she managed. "I assume if you have brought us here, Your Imperial Majesty, then something has happened? Did Sevan confess?"
"Not exactly," Lucien said. His voice was deep. And grave. A serious voice to go with the serious-looking man. "He was not entirely coherent. Whatever the poison was that he took, it did some damage before the healers arrested its progress."
"He must have told you something, or we wouldn't be here," Sophie said sharply. Aristides’s brows lifted, but he stayed silent. Sophie ignored him. The man had offered her a crown. If she was to have any hope of him taking her refusal seriously, she needed him to know she wasn't a pushover. Not a pawn for him to place as he pleased. Of course, it was a fine line to walk between that and not making him think that she was fierce enough to hold a throne.
She turned her gaze to focus solely on Lord Castaigne. Whose expression was unreadable. This close, she saw that his collar wasn't empty but that the insignia pinned there was the same black as the material. Two black circles. They were engraved but she couldn't tell what the design might be. “Did he say anything?"
"He did. But, as I said, he was somewhat incoherent. We were hoping that perhaps you and Lord Scardale may have an easier time understanding what he may have been talking about," Lord Castaigne said.
"Can't you ask him?" Cameron cut in.
Lucien's lips pressed together briefly. "I am
afraid not. The poison had weakened him. His heart gave out in the end. My condolences."
Sophie shuddered, bowing her head. Poison? Or what the Illvyans had done to him? Poison was a convenient sort of excuse for a dead prisoner. Particularly one who'd been under interrogation. Sevan Allowood had tried to kill her. She'd wanted him punished, yes. But she hadn't wanted him dead.
Unlike whoever had sent him to kill her, who seemed not to have cared if Sevan died in his attempt. Her fingers started to curl, and she relaxed them with an effort. She might not have wanted Sevan to die, but she was rapidly developing a desire for the person behind his efforts to do so. Painfully, if possible.
They clearly didn't care much about the fate of anyone who got in their way. Only about achieving whatever mysterious goal they were trying to achieve. Aristides called it manipulating the succession in Anglion, but Sophie didn't know if it was that simple—if one could call playing games with kingdoms simple. Why bother killing her if it was simply about the crown? She had removed herself from eligibility in the eyes of most Anglions, if not by the letter of the law, by coming to Illvya.
"What about the others in the delegation?" she asked. "Did you ask them about what Sevan said?"
"They claim to have no insights. Lord Castaigne tells me he believes them," Aristides said, frowning. As though he was annoyed by the marq's assertion but had no reason to challenge it. Which was something to remember. That this truth seeker's word was accepted by the emperor it seemed, even though Aristides didn't like what Lord Castaigne had to say.
She didn't much like it either. "Are—"
"You used your...talents on them, my lord?" Cameron interrupted.
Sophie recognized the quiet anger underlying his words, knew the thought of James being hurt in any way would make him sick. As it did her. She swallowed, hard.
Cameron trusted James—believed that it was James who'd tried to warn them that the Anglion delegation may be treacherous—but more than that, James was family. Someone who'd done nothing to deserve being dragged into this mess. Other than be connected to Cameron by marriage. The only reason for him to have been sent on the delegation was to see if family loyalties would lure Cameron home where simple duty could not.
