Jaded

by Anya Bast

  Post-revolution the university showed a much more diverse body of students. Most of the noble houses in Rylisk had suffered death and destruction at the hands of the mob. Alek and Byron’s families had only survived due to their generosity to their respective communities. That meant most of the student population was now of the lower class variety. Whoever could pay the tuition—a much lowered one—or who made it in via the lottery attended these days. Bloodline notwithstanding.

  They exited the carriage onto a freshly cleared walkway that led to the main building, a large domed structure. During the revolution the campus had sustained quite a bit of damage, but it had mostly been repaired since then.

  The double doors let them into a large, echoing foyer with marble floors and a series of hallways leading away to what Lilya presumed must be classrooms. People milled the area. Immediately Byron spotted someone he needed to talk to and excused himself for a moment, leaving her alone near the doors.

  “Lilya!”

  She turned at the familiar male voice and saw Gregorio Vikhin striding toward her. “Gregorio, so nice to see you.” He gave her a hug when he reached her.

  “Where’s Evangeline?”

  “At home with the babies. They’re only a little over a week old.”

  “Babies?” She clasped her hands together at her chest. “She had them? Two?”

  His smile could’ve powered the building. “Indeed. Two girls. We named them Anastasia and Annetka.”

  “Ah, Annetka.” That had been the name of Evangeline’s one and only friend at Belai, who’d died when they’d been children.

  Gregorio nodded and smiled. “Anastasia is my mother’s name.”

  “As Nicoli was the name of Anatol’s father.”

  “Yes.”

  Well, the threesome seemed to be working out fine between them. Lilya was very happy for them, if not just a little jealous.

  Expectations, Lilya, she reminded herself. Such things were not for her.

  “Planning on having any more children?”

  Gregorio laughed. “If Anatol or I even bring up the topic it’s cause for the sharp edge of Evangeline’s tongue right now. None of us are getting much sleep these days.”

  Yes, she could see the dark lines under his eyes. Twin girls would keep the household hopping, but Evangeline was lucky she had two such supportive husbands to give her a hand. Evangeline was lucky in so many ways.

  “We were actually thinking we might adopt after these three are a little older,” Gregorio continued. “Angel House is full, especially after the revolution.”

  Lilya nodded and smiled. “That would be a wonderful way to build your family.” It had always seemed silly to her to bring more children into the world when there were so many already who needed families to love them.

  “Gregorio.” Byron greeted him as he came up to stand beside them. “It’s good to see you.” They shook hands.

  Gregorio looked to Byron and Lilya, who were standing close to one another. “Did you come here together?”

  “Remember when I said I was taking some time off from the project to have a houseguest? Lilya is that houseguest.”

  Gregorio’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. “That’s wonderful! I didn’t know you two were so well acquainted.”

  “We’ve known each other for a long time.” Lilya glanced at Byron and smiled.

  “So what are you doing here today, Byron? There’s nothing so pressing that needs your attention this moment. You didn’t need to travel all the way from Ulstrat.”

  “Well, actually, there’s the Aralynda matter.”

  Gregorio’s face went serious. “Of course. You intend to try and sway her before she leaves?”

  “It’s our last chance.”

  Lilya frowned, looking between the two men and wondering who Aralynda was.

  “Yes.” Gregorio’s gaze darted to Lilya. “Do you think—?”

  “No.” Byron’s voice was firm and protective.

  Gregorio’s gaze shifted between them, his eyes lighting with some new knowledge about their relationship. “I understand.”

  “Uh, what’s going on that I don’t know about?” Lilya shifted impatiently.

  “I’ll explain as we go upstairs. I just need to gather her paperwork and we’ll be off.”

  Someone across the foyer greeted Gregorio and he excused himself from them. “It was good to see you both.”

  “Give Evangeline a hug from me,” Lilya called after him.

  “I will,” he called back. “I know she’s anxious to see you. When you get back from Ulstrat, we’ll come by for a visit.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  Byron took her elbow and led her up the stairs. “So, tell me about Aralynda,” she prompted him.

  “She’s a woman who lives on the outskirts of Milzyr, a former J’Edaeii. She’s had a very rough time since the revolution and she wants nothing to do with the new government, yet her magick is extremely powerful and could be of great help to the farmers of Rylisk.”

  “What’s her magick?”

  He glanced at her, grinning. “She makes plants grow twice as fast as normal.”

  “Ah. That would be a helpful type of magick to have at the state’s disposal.” She reached the top of the stairs. “Let me guess, she doesn’t want to be at the state’s disposal?”

  He stopped outside of an open door and sighed. “She’s an older woman and proud, very—”

  “J’Edaeii?”

  He nodded. “Life has been rough on her these past three years. She’s spent time on the streets, she’s starved, and she’s been mistreated. She blames the new government for all that.”

  “She sounds like Evangeline once was.” Lilya paused. “Considering her recent history, you know I’m the best person to talk to her, don’t you?”

  “No.” Byron walked past her into the room.

  Frowning at his back, she followed him in and glanced around.

  Desk, chairs, bookshelves. This must be his office. He walked around to the other side of the desk, pulled out a drawer, and began riffling through a pile of papers.

  Lilya put a hand on her hip. “And why not?”

  He glanced up at the tone in her voice. “I brought you into the city for pleasant things. I intend to drop you on Bergen Avenue with a purse full of money while I meet with Aralynda.” Bergen Avenue was where all the finest shops were located. “I never intended for you to come with me to talk with an irascible, proud woman with a recent history so close to yours and so sharp it might full well draw blood from you.”

  She smiled and spread her hands. “And, yet, here I am, fully qualified and willing.”

  “No.” He stared at her in challenge for a long moment, then went back to riffling through the desk.

  “Byron, you can’t tell me what to do.”

  He looked up her. “I want what’s best for you.”

  “That’s very sweet and protective of you, but I’m a grown woman. I’m strong and resilient. I know what I can handle and, Byron, I can handle a lot.”

  “I know you’re strong, it’s just—”

  “You want to spare me any unnecessary pain. I appreciate that. I want the same for you.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “I understand, but I don’t agree. I can help you and I want to help you.” She tilted her head at him. “Do you really think I’m the type of woman who’d prefer to go shopping when there’s any opportunity I could take to aid someone?”

  He studied her for a moment, then sighed as though relenting. “No, I don’t.”

  She favored him with a winning smile. “Then it’s settled, I’m coming with you.”

  His full lips twisted and she had a moment of all-consuming lust watching them. He had the most sensual lips of any man she’d ever known. “I guess it is.” He dipped his head again, still searching for his papers on the woman, Aralynda, she guessed. Finally he came up with a fistful, then closed the drawer.

  “Where is Aralynda goi
ng that it’s so urgent to talk to her today?”

  He came around the desk to stand beside her. “She’s leaving Rylisk tomorrow. There’s a small enclave of former J’Edaeii in Malbask.” Malbask neighbored Rylisk to the north. “She’s set on leaving, but I’ve talked with her several times and have glimpsed a way to get through to her. I just haven’t been able to say the right things. This time, I go armed with a monetary offer from the government so maybe words and pleas to her sentiment won’t matter.”

  “To a former J’Edaeii, the monetary amount matters greatly.”

  “Ah, yes, and the amount is not great. We only have so much money we can offer the former J’Edaeii as an incentive to join our cause and we must spread the lot out among them. It’s not all that much.”

  “Let’s go try.”

  He stared down at her for a moment, then dipped his head and caught her lips against his. She melted against him a little, inhaling the heady scent of his skin that mingled with the musky scent of the cologne he used every morning after his bath. She closed her eyes, drinking him in, enjoying the slow slide of his mouth along hers. Sweet Joshui, she could kiss this man forever.

  “I . . . care about you very much, Lilya,” he whispered against her lips.

  He cared about her; he didn’t love her.

  Expectations, Lilya.

  She smiled against his lips. “I care very much about you too. I’m happy to be spending this time with you and Alek.”

  He backed away from her and cleared his throat. “Alek is certainly enjoying your company.”

  Her smile faded. “Why is there an edge to your voice when you say that?”

  He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and gave a low, rough laugh. “Because I’m an idiot, Lilya, that’s why.” He pushed past her without another word. “Let’s get going.”

  Aralynda lived in a small one-room apartment on the west side of town. Lilya followed Byron up a flight of creaking wooden stairs and down a chilly hallway to her door and knocked. Nothing happened for long enough to make Lilya think Aralynda wasn’t home. Then a scuffling and muttering from the opposite side of the door met her ears and the lock snapped open.

  The door creaked inward to reveal a tall, thin woman with iron-colored hair staring at them. She wore a threadbare gown and tattered slippers, yet she did it with such a rigid backbone and regal carriage that Lilya could easily imagine yards of silk and lace.

  “You again,” came Aralynda’s tight voice as soon as her gaze met Byron’s.

  “Me again, Aralynda, yes.” Byron gave her his most charming smile, a smile Lilya was sure no woman had the power to resist not even Aralynda Hansdaughter, formerly Aralynda J’Edaeii. “I wanted to come over, say good-bye, and make you a final offer.”

  Aralynda eyed Lilya. “Who is this?”

  “This is Lilya Orensdaughter, a friend of mine.”

  Lilya inclined her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Aralynda scowled at both of them and Lilya thought for certain she’d slam the door in their faces, but instead she opened it wider and stepped aside, allowing them passage. “I have time for one cup of tea, but mind the disarray, I’m packing.”

  They entered after her and Lilya took stock of the humble abode. A few pieces of worn furniture, tiny corner kitchen, boxes and clothing strewn on the bed. It didn’t appear that Aralynda had much to pack. The apartment was quite spare, but it was spotless.

  “Well, sit down, then.” Aralynda waved at a couple of chairs, sounding put out, then moved into the tiny kitchen to make tea, presumably.

  Lilya and Byron sank into rickety chairs near the fire and soon Aralynda brought them both weak tea in chipped cups. Then she retrieved her own tea and sat on the threadbare rouge divan opposite the hearth.

  Looking at Byron expectantly, Aralynda sipped her tea. “So, talk. I don’t have all day.”

  Byron shrugged in an easygoing manner. “Of course.” He looked down at his teacup and Lilya stifled a snicker. She knew that Byron hated tea, especially weak tea, and the tiny, delicate cup in his massive hands looked ridiculous. “I come today with a monetary offer in hand, Aralynda.” Well, he was getting right down to business. “An incentive to keep you in Rylisk. You won’t like Malbask anyway, it’s very cold.”

  Aralynda’s straight back went a little straighter. “The government of Rylisk would offer me money to stay here?” She said government the way another person might say maggot.

  “Yes. You mean much to us.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes took on a calculating expression. “How much?”

  He glanced around her apartment. “Enough that you could afford a better, warmer apartment.” He lifted the cup. “Dishes that aren’t chipped. Food on your table and a new gown or two.”

  She studied him for a moment with hard, glittering dark eyes. “I accept your money and I’m beholden to the government, then? Bound to provide my magick whenever they ask it of me? A slave?”

  He gave his head a sharp shake. “Never a slave. You would not be compelled to use your magick at any time, but we would hope you would take joy in helping your fellow citizens by using your gift. We could put all of that in writing, if you choose.”

  “Take joy?” she sputtered. “My fellow citizens?” She pointed a bony finger toward the window. “Those are the people who stripped me of my old life and set me on the street to rot. I froze. I starved. I was beaten by men in an alleyway once. Why should I feel any inclination toward helping these people? If I take this money from you I will be a prisoner of my enemies.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Hansdaughter,” Lilya broke in, “but how is that any different than being J’Edaeii?”

  Byron’s face went from passively accepting of Aralynda’s rant to alarm. Lilya calmly sipped her tea and waited for Aralynda’s inevitable eruption.

  Aralynda turned her icy gaze to her. “Before someone cut it out of me on the street, I had a jewel nestled at the base of my spine.” She lifted her chin. “A diamond. It was there for over thirty-five years. I was widow to an Edaeii for most of those years.”

  “Did you love him?”

  She scowled. “What an impertinent question! That’s none of your business, young lady.”

  “It’s a very simple question, Aralynda. Did you marry him because you wanted to marry him? Because you loved him? Or did you marry him because you were forced to marry him in an effort to infuse the Edaeii bloodline with your magickal talent? If the answer is the latter, you were a prisoner, no matter how many diamonds were embedded in your flesh or how many gorgeous gowns draped your body.”

  Aralynda’s lower lip trembled and Lilya thought for a moment she’d made a horrible mistake. Then her face softened and she looked away. “He was horrid. Twice my age. Our wedding night was—” She shuddered. “I never bore a child because I couldn’t stand his hands on me. Still, they threatened . . .” She trailed off.

  Of course. She’d only been a broodmare.

  After a several moments of silence, Lilya rose, set her teacup on the mantel and walked over to sit near Aralynda. “The J’Edaeii were wronged in the revolution. They were lumped together with the oppressors when they were really the oppressed. You were taken from your family at a young age, raised to think it was your birthright to become jeweled and marry an Edaeii. Then the revolution occurred and you were wronged again, this time by the people who should have sheltered you. The people didn’t understand. They viewed you as a traitor and they did some horrible things.” She paused as Aralynda turned her head to look at her. “Rylisk is a different place now.”

  “Is it? I don’t believe that.” Her voice came out cold and bitter.

  “You’ve never had a chance to live as you see fit, Aralynda. Every moment of your life has been dictated by someone else. This is your chance to finally live as a free woman. You can do as you will with your power. The government hopes you will use it in service to others, as do I. Ultimately, however, the choice will be yours
.”

  “And Malbask? I have people waiting there for me. My plans are made. The costs for travel paid.” She waved a hand at the half-packed boxes scattering the floor.

  “I’ll cover your expenses personally,” Byron cut in, “and give you an extra bonus for your trouble.”

  Aralynda gazed out the window, clearly deep in thought.

  “You said you never loved your husband,” Lilya said quietly. “But it’s not too late to find real love. You have the rest of your life ahead of you to live as you choose.”

  “Find love?” She gave a sharp laugh. “I’m too old.”

  “No one is ever too old for that.”

  “Don’t give me that clichéd dribble.” Yet her voice lacked bite.

  Lilya took a chance, reached out and covered the older woman’s hand with hers. “It might be a cliché, but it’s also true.”

  They left a short time later with Aralynda telling Byron she would take the afternoon and evening to think about it and would send word to the university when she’d made her decision . . . on Byron’s coin, of course. Byron gracefully agreed and took his leave, his tea sitting untouched.

  Eighteen

  He pulled Lilya against his side as they walked down the hallway. “You said the right things, Lilya. I think you convinced her to stay.”

  She smiled up at him. “Aren’t you happy you brought me with you now?”

  “I’m always happy to have you at my side, love.”

  Those words made her heart skip a beat. She cursed herself.

  They met Alek for lunch at an outdoor café not far from where her house was located and told him about their meeting with Aralynda.

  Alek set his fork down on the table beside his plate of pasta. “I can’t believe you convinced her to stay. She’s a sour old biddy.”

  “You’ve met her?” Lilya asked.

  Byron sat back in his chair and surveyed the busy street. “I think I’ve sent almost everyone out to see her, trying to talk her into working with us.”