One Thousand Kisses

by One Thousand Kisses

  That solved one mystery. It both reassured and discomfited Embor that the cat had been the one to dance through his wards. He’d prefer his chambers be barred to everyone he didn’t sanction, including cats. However, cats were hardly assassins, and they had no care for Realm politics.

  He raised an eyebrow and spoke to the tom. “That wasn’t very civilized of you.”

  The cat didn’t answer. He began to purr under Anisette’s ministrations, punching the soft fabric of Embor’s blanket with his front paws.

  Embor had little experience with cats. He’d had more experience with children than cats. It annoyed him that the creatures—cats, not children—couldn’t be relied on for anything beyond cryptic foreshadowing and mysterious disappearances. Why didn’t they partner with fairies? Cats, whose precognitive abilities seemed more controlled than the Seers, could help the fairies stave off disaster. Fairies could provide the cats with as many brown blankets as they desired.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if cats knew what had caused the Incident and how to prevent another one. Pursuit of that goal had dominated the Court’s activities for forty years, but no cats had deigned to speak of it.

  Undaunted, Embor tried again. “How did you get into my chambers?”

  The cat’s claws loosened tufts from the blanket. He didn’t shift his piercing gaze from Embor.

  “The same way he got into mine, I suppose.” Anisette tickled the feline under the chin, where his fur was white. “Would you care to enlighten us, Master Fey?”

  The cat rolled to his back, exposing his belly, but kept one yellow eye pinned on Embor. He folded his paws to his chest.

  “Why did you urinate on my bedding?” Embor asked.

  The feline’s tail swished back and forth.

  “That’s what that smell was.” Anisette gave a surprised chuff and sat. The white fur on the cat’s stomach created a fiddle shape, much like the cephalothorax of a certain poisonous spider. “Naughty puss.”

  Embor flexed his fingers. If he forcibly retrieved his blanket, would it be worth the repercussions? The cat could come and go as he pleased. “Why have you taken up with Princess Anisette?”

  The rumble of the cat’s purr increased.

  “He likes me.” The cat struck playfully at Anisette’s hand. “I like him too.”

  “What caused the Incident?” Embor asked.

  She froze, her fingers buried in the cat’s fur. “Which one of us are you asking?”

  He advanced on the bed. “The cat.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t know a thing like that.”

  “If you won’t talk to me, cat, I need to speak with the princess.” Embor halted out of paw’s reach of the canopied bed, its mattress draped in a shimmery coverlet. “I have an idea for your vacation, Anisette.”

  “Have you really?” She concentrated on the cat, her hair spilling in front of her face. “I’m sorry you wasted your time. I’m not taking a vacation.”

  He pretended she hadn’t said that. “I’ll transport you to Fiertaggen tomorrow after breakfast.”

  She slid off the bed. “Your home district?”

  “Yes, it’s…” The safest place for her outside his presence. The Torvals would never venture to the Fiertag clanhome. “It’s cooler than Xerode this time of year.”

  “The sun is cooler than Xerode this time of year. If I go anywhere, I’ll go to my clanhome.”

  Serendipity and Tortagal bordered one another and had no quarrels. Anisette’s clan had no reason to refuse admittance to Warran Torval.

  “Unacceptable. Home is never as relaxing as one might wish.” She started to speak, and he raised his hand. “Fiertaggen would be a greater change of scenery. The southern part of the territory borders the Great Salt Bay.” While his home region wasn’t ideal in the hot months, the subtropical flora and fauna were very different from the low mountains and plateaus of Serendipity and the flat, grassy heat of Cappita.

  “You want me to vacation in your home district,” she repeated, as if she didn’t understand his simple statement.

  “There are a multitude of guest cottages and resorts. The area is popular with travelers. The Court will pay all expenses since Gangee mandated the vacation.” She’d be staying in the Fiertag’s heavily fortified clanhome, where his second cousins, the clan primes, could protect her, but there was no need to tell her that yet.

  “I’m not going on vacation. I already spoke to Gangee and got my prescription.” She pointed at her rosewood dressing table, where a bottle of spell globes sat conspicuously in the center. Beside it was a skein of yarn.

  “If you do both, you’ll be twice as unlikely to suffer another attack.”

  “I am not,” she said, snapping her consonants, “going to suffer another attack. I have an idea what the trigger is and a plan to defuse it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “In a few days. Maybe a couple weeks.”

  Had she connected the Torvals’ abuse of her to her panic attack? “What’s the trigger?”

  Her lips whitened as she pinched them together. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “I need you to tell me.” If she was close to right, he’d confirm it. He was tempted to tell her regardless.

  She opened her eyes, her expression glassy. “No.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Did you tell Gangee?”

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s private.”

  She had no idea the danger she was in. If the Torvals had mindwiped her once, they wouldn’t hesitate to do it again—or worse. She must confide in him, give him the proof he needed to banish them forever. “What if I told you I know what happened to you?”

  “How could you know why I panicked?” She rubbed her arms briskly. “Unless you caused it.”

  “Me?” He squeezed his forehead in frustration. “I wouldn’t harm you, Anisette.”

  “Not on purpose.” She tucked her hands under her arms as if she were cold, but her room was pleasant.

  “Not ever.” Embor put his fists on his hips to keep from taking her shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to warm her or shake her. “I insist you tell me what upset you last night.”

  “If it was you and not…” She blinked several times and shivered. “My new climate-control spell is overactive. It’s freezing in here.”

  He flicked his hand, increasing the ambient temperature. “Please continue.”

  “What was I saying?”

  “You were telling me why your stress is my fault,” he said in a dry voice, “and withholding the real cause.”

  “It’s only a theory.” She hastened to the dressing table, unscrewed her bottle and shook a pill into her hand. “I…I forgot, I’m supposed to have one every day.”

  Embor had been at the appointment. Gangee had instructed her to dose herself as needed, not daily. He watched her activate the tiny globe with some degree of guilt. This was part of the reason Gangee had said not to tell her. Trying to remember what had frightened her—and arguing with him—had increased her anxiety to the point where she wanted to medicate.

  He considered his role in her situation. Had finding Embor and Anisette together inspired Warran’s evil deed? Had Warran wanted to turn the princess against him? With the election so close, the Torvals had ramped up their smear campaign, their desperate measures. Trying anything and everything.

  As Embor knew too well, insanity, sadism and lechery ran in the Torval clan.

  Perhaps he shouldn’t have tweaked Warran’s nose with that bow to Anisette. Even if he couldn’t prove the Torvals’ misdeed, he wouldn’t allow her to become a pawn in election politics. He needed to win in order to continue the programs he and Skythia had begun, the work they’d done, the strides they’d made. The Torvals would undermine the Realm’s stability—and make his hunt for the other Torvals nearly impossible. They’d foster the AOC, and that agency was already bloated far beyond its original function.

  All the more reason to send Anisette away.

  She wore a
contemplative expression as the healing globe took effect.

  “Is your spell complete?” he asked. He had little sensitivity to healing magics. He only knew his energy globes had kicked in when he began to feel brisk. It was easier to tell when they were wearing off.

  Anisette, her face smooth, returned to stand between him and the cat. “I believe so.”

  “Now can you tell me your suspicions?”

  She took a deep breath and released it, blowing several hairs out of her face. “All right. Here’s what I think. I had no physical manifestations of stress until I’d seen you in the gardens. Nothing else I did yesterday was out of the ordinary.”

  “How could I have pushed you over the edge?” He tamped down his skepticism. Mostly. “Our encounter wasn’t hostile. I found it instructive. Did I mention I’m interested in children?”

  “You must know you aren’t…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I’m not what? Interested in children? I promise you I am.” He wondered how many children the two of them would have. Probably two. Twins often bred true.

  “I shouldn’t.” She stared at the floor, her hair concealing her face, and pleated her apron.

  While the sight of her loose hair awakened images best kept to himself, he began to see the appeal of the braid. He considered tipping up her chin so he could read her expression, but the gesture seemed too paternal.

  He shoved his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. “Look at me.”

  She shifted the angle of her head but didn’t meet his gaze.

  Personal contact, as he understood it, could heighten communication and understanding. Skythia often grabbed him when she wanted to make a point.

  Embor cupped her upper arm. Her skin felt like satin. Now she looked at him. “Feel free to speak your mind, Anisette.”

  She licked her lips. “You only have yourself to blame if you don’t like what I say. I’m forever telling Tali this when she asks me to be honest.”

  “I accept that.”

  “She still gets angry with me.”

  He shifted his thumb, stroking her creamy skin. Talista got angry with him for being honest as well. “I’m not your sibling.”

  “No.” She raised a hand as if to take his arm, completing the circuit, but adjusted her pinafore instead. “The thing is, you’re not an easy man.”

  Numerous questions flitted through his head. Did that make him difficult? Hard? Complex? Before he could settle on a response, Ani filled the silence. “That sounds harsh. What I mean is, you’re not an easy person to be around.”

  That sounded worse. He appreciated her candor even as he wished he were…easier. For her. He didn’t care about easing anyone else. “I believe I mentioned yesterday that I am the Primary. My job is demanding.”

  “You did, but…” She sighed. “How can I say this?”

  “With words.” He rubbed her arm, intending to reassure. “I won’t be angry.”

  How could he be? He knew what his position entailed. Friendships, entertainments, relaxations—for the most part, he and Skythia had sacrificed those to perform their duties. He didn’t regret it. He and Skythia were the right choice for the Realm at this juncture.

  “It isn’t that you’re the Primary.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she glanced from her arm to his face. Actually, to his chin. “Elder Skythia is friendly. Relatable.”

  “And I’m not?” He raised his eyebrows. Both of them. His surprise wasn’t that someone found him unrelatable but that Anisette had verbalized it.

  The tactic with the physical contact must be working. What would she confess if he touched her more? He took her other arm, gliding down until he clasped her wrists. He found himself wanting to hold her hands, but the gesture might be too distracting for a discussion about his shortcomings.

  She reddened further, her cheeks matching her hair. “It’s not possible you don’t know.”

  “I have some idea,” he admitted.

  The tomcat on the bed pirruped. The muscles of Anisette’s arms tensed as if she intended to break contact with him to pet the cat. “I don’t mean to offend.”

  “I’m not offended.” Hells. He took her hands. He wouldn’t be derailed by a cat. “How can I be more pleasant for you?”

  Her pink lips worked but no sound came out. “I can’t answer that,” she spluttered. With her attention on him, she didn’t notice the cat rolling on the bed, presenting his belly for a rub.

  “I’m not averse to hearing I’m perfect the way I am.” He stroked the back of her hands with his thumbs.

  “You’re not perfect.”

  “I know.” If he were, she’d love him instead of avoid him. She’d have succumbed without him having to do anything besides be himself. “I have split ends.”

  “You have split…” Her eyes rounded. “Are you…you…trying to be funny?”

  If she had to ask, he’d failed. As usual. “It’s not against Court law for the Primary to joke.”

  The cat head-butted Anisette in the rear. “Meow.”

  She tried to pivot, and he stopped her, squeezing her hands. “I’m not finished.”

  “The cat is…” A line appeared between her brows. For all he knew the cat was telling her something horrible.

  “The cat can wait.” If she picked the cat up, it would place his body between Embor and his goal. He’d started out intending to schedule Anisette’s vacation. Get her away from the Torvals. Now?

  Now he wanted to put her at ease. If nothing else, she’d be more likely to agree to go to Fiertaggen.

  He spoke louder than the cat was purring. “I also can’t swim.”

  Her fingers, which had been inert, curved around his. “How did you grow up next to the Bay and not learn to swim?”

  “I find immersion in water unpleasant.” Embor glanced at the bed. The cat slid past Anisette, rubbing his whiskered face against her rear.

  “Fire magic,” she guessed.

  He shrugged. He’d known fairies with fire magic who didn’t mind water. As much. “Do you enjoy swimming?”

  She tilted her head. “Breathing underwater was the first magic I learned.”

  “Have you visited the Bay?”

  “Many times. The first time, I was young. We went to Gala. Tali nearly…” She shook her head. The cat batted the long fall of hair down her back. “It was a long time ago.”

  “I can only imagine what she nearly.” He raised her hands to his chest and thought about kissing them. Instead he peered into her eyes. “Tell me the good parts.”

  “I swam far out under the waves. My mother says when I came back I told everyone stories about fairies under the ocean. I don’t remember the stories. I just remember it was beautiful.”

  She was beautiful, her face full of wonder, the pinched expression she tended to wear around him gone. “Are you relaxed now?”

  “Actually, yes.” She bit her lip and smiled, her face tilted toward him. “I feel nice.”

  The cat, haunches twitching and pupils huge, crouched behind her and readied himself. Embor led her away from the small predator like they were dancing. She followed. When they were out of the cat’s range, he halted, trying to ignore the malevolent yellow stare and concentrate on the princess.

  “Can you share,” he asked slowly, caressing her fingers, “what you think might have triggered your panic attack besides me? I want to help you.”

  The deep blue of her eyes was ingenuous, yet assessing. “Why do you want to help me?”

  He provided a quarter of the truth, not as honest as a half-truth but not a lie. “You’re an asset to the Court.” When she failed to react, he gave her another quarter truth. “I can’t believe anyone would intend you harm. If someone does, come straight to me with whatever concerns you have. You and I share a history.”

  And a future.

  “I swear there was something.” She sighed, her brow wrinkling again. Behind her, the cat thumped to the floor. “I wanted to tell you something recently. Yesterday or today.” T
o his surprise, her hands cooled in his grasp. He increased the room’s temperature again with a mental command. “I’m not usually forgetful.”

  “Perhaps it will come to you if you relax more.” He could think of a few ways to ease tension without anxiety spells. “I’ve been told I have warm hands.”

  “And how would your warm hands relax me?” she asked, the expression in her eyes no longer guileless.

  “However you wish.” Unless he missed his guess, she was flirting. He wondered exactly what type of pills Gangee had given her. Her taking one every day might speed the courtship.

  She didn’t answer immediately. He hoped she was thinking about his hands, his hands on her skin, his hands heating her. Pleasing her. He was definitely thinking about it.

  As his imagination sprang to life, so did his body. Hells. She’d read his hormones and lust. He ought not be that obvious until he’d told her about the Seers. He dropped her hands and stepped away.

  A yowl erupted from the floor, startling them both. The cat pounced on Embor’s feet, whipping his tail back and forth, and began to claw his slippers like a dervish.

  Embor stifled a curse.

  “Master Fey, what is it?” Embor thought Anisette sounded annoyed, unless his own annoyance was coloring his interpretation. What was with that cat?

  As quickly as he’d assaulted Embor’s feet, the cat leapt away, pivoting in midair to land with his front to the fairies.

  Anisette knelt and inspected Embor’s feet. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” Though he felt the fool, he and the cat stared at one another, neither of them blinking.

  She rose and straightened her apron. “The cat says you’re lying to me.”

  Embor blinked—first—and turned to the princess. The cat purred loudly. “About what?”

  “Something before the exam, something during the exam, something right now.” She inched away from him. “That’s a lot of lying.”

  “I haven’t outright lied to you.” That he could recall. “I may not have provided all the information due to its restricted nature, but I’ve no reason to lie.”

  “He says you do have a reason.”

  He restrained the impulse to dangle the cat by the scruff and demand the beast talk to him, man-to-man. “Cat, if you see so much—” Could the cat see they were bondmates? “—you know I have her best interests at heart.”