Leyna chortled quietly, watching Zander lift a ripened cherry from a tray. With Gislan’s gaze settled on him fondly, he raised it slowly up to his mouth, winking deviously. “She is not tired of your bedroom antics yet?” Leyna laughed, trying hard to mask the smile on her face.
“No woman could ever tire of my bedroom antics,” Zander smirked. “And what of you? Have you bedded your persistent suitor yet?”
“Now, now, Zander. Underneath this façade, you must remember that I am a lady. I would never do such a thing.”
“What’s it been? Five years? Six? You must be doing something to keep his interest.”
“Almost six,” she rolled her eyes. “And maybe it is the fact that I am not doing anything that keeps his thoughts on me. He respects me.”
“Or he has other women to occupy him until you are suitably swayed from your virtuous ways.” Leyna jabbed her elbow roughly into his side, offended by his comment. She dared not speak out angrily in response, as similar fears had crossed her own mind over the years. She tried not to focus on them.
It was shocking to think it had been so long. Six years. Or would be within the next few months. No one really seemed to be counting anymore, these days.
Her letters to the Consul had grown fewer and farther between, the information less and less pertinent. Initially, she had documented every name she overheard spoken by Oksuva and her other ladies. In time, the names became repetitive, falling into a routine of common business associates with no real power in the scheme of things. Then again, Oksuva still preferred to leave Leyna out of her meetings, bringing her in only on occasion when the topic was less sensitive for her ears. Her job was to take up space when necessary, and when she wasn’t needed, she was to tend to Oksuva’s quarters, dusting, sweeping, and whatever else Oksuva felt would occupy her time productively.
“He is a perfect gentleman when we are together, and if you must know, he is far too busy of a man to be seeking any other women. His only free time is spent in my company.”
“So Oksuva still allows you both to meet in private? If so, I am more amazed by your claims at purity.” Reaching out for another cherry, Zander bit into it, faster this time, his posture relaxing at Gislan’s diverted attention. “I didn’t think she was ever going to look away. She disgusts me. Really.”
“Nearly an hour every day, yes. And I do not need you to believe me in order for my claims to be true. Think what you will. I am not the one whoring myself for an invitation to these parties in order to hoard their leftovers,” she chuckled.
From across the room, she could see Kael’s soft green eyes watching her carefully. He was leery of Zander. As he had been from the day they first quarreled over her. Kael harbored a deeply seeded hatred over what he believed Zander had done to her. Ruining her. It would make her laugh if it wasn’t for the guilt she still held inside over all the lies.
“You wound me, Madam,” Zander replied mockingly. His head leaned in closer to her ear, following her gaze to where Kael was standing. “You may want to keep an eye on that man. His eyes used to glow brighter when he tried to strike me down with his stare from across the room. Either he is slowly starting to come around to my charming ways, or the light is dimming in there.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, peering into the crowd to get a better look at Kael.
He was set apart from the rest of the guests in his finely tailored suit, hair slicked back away from his face. The ends curled up around the collar of his shirt, blending in with the shimmering grey and silver threads of his jacket and accented by his pale skin. Though she so often gazed into his eyes, she had missed it before, the dullness to the usual brilliance there, hardening the green hue.
But what could it mean? The Vor’shai tended to mask their inner energy when it was appropriate to do so, blending in with the crowds of the locals in countries outside of their own. Never before though had she seen it masked in such a way.
“I’ve seen it before – but I would not want to worry you. I am sure it is not the case…” Baiting her, Zander turned his eyes on Leyna curiously. He could see the questioning expression on her face. Her thoughts were too confused to hide it.
“You believe he is dabbling in their sorcery.”
Zander was surprised by her candor. She could tell by the way his head shifted away from hers and the length of time in which he pondered over his own words before responding. “Well, that is one way of putting it, yes.”
“And what might be another way of putting it?” she asked. “It seems pretty straight forward to me. But I would have to rely on your previous experience to urge me into believing it, for I have never witnessed a Vor’shai’s descent into darkness before. Tell me – is it really so subtle that the person closest to him would never notice it?”
“Those closest to the dabbler are more likely to notice, but then deny it. Make claims that it isn’t true. Convince themselves of it so wholeheartedly that it is completely overlooked until it is too late.”
It was a frightening thought. Kael would never use such blasphemous magic. He couldn’t. To do so went against everything she believed – and what she’d been convinced he believed in also. “I will ask him about it,” she said quietly. “I am confident it will be nothing but a misunderstanding. A trick of the light in this room, perhaps.”
She could feel Zander’s hand on her shoulder, comforting her. An innocent gesture. Seeing him touch her, Kael’s eyes flashed angrily in their direction, storming across the floor with long strides to confront them.
“Ah, the demon cometh. I do hope he avoids my nose this time…”
“Is this man troubling you?” Kael demanded. His hand shot with incredible speed out toward Zander’s arm, forcing it away from Leyna harshly. “He seems to forget that he no longer has any right to lay a finger on you.”
Leyna sighed heavily. Her gaze traveled over to Oksuva and Gislan, aware that Kael’s hasty approach had drawn their interest, their eyes settled on the trio, watching intently. “Kael, you know Zander and I are friends now. This is not worth creating a scene over.”
“Creating a scene?” Kael laughed. Almost sinister in the sound. “After what he did to you, how can you possibly call him friend? He treated you like an object. A whore! And you still think him to be good to you?”
The room was quieter than it had been before. Guests were edging away, creating a space around them at the end of the table, displaying them in front of the entire room like a dramatic act in a play. Zander stood with admirable confidence. His left brow was raised, amused by the claims Kael was making against him. Only he and Leyna knew the truth; and neither one of them could say anything to set things straight.
“Think what you will, I never caused any harm to the lovely Eleni –”
“Save it for the gods. It is up to them to decide the fate of your soul for your heinous acts against your people, not me.” Kael’s hand tightened around her wrist, squeezing painfully, his eyes focused on Zander, unaware of his own strength. “Come, Eleni,” he scoffed. “You will honor me with a dance while this creature finds his way elsewhere.”
“But I do not –” he pulled her forward, leaving her with no opportunity to finish the protest until they were already standing in the middle of the foyer floor, “– know the dances here…” Everyone continued to stare at them, clearly curious. Whispers already were circulating around the room. Rumors. Gossip. More scandals in the home of Mikel and Oksuva. There were so many as it was, without needing help in creating more.
She knew it was a lie she told him about the dance, allowing him to lead her through the motions as the music started up again with a lively tune. It was a traditional dance of the court, though the Siscal style was varied from that which she had learned in Tanispa under Faustine’s tutelage, it was simple enough to grasp the pattern.
A slave would never have any knowledge of the steps, of course. After all the years that passed, it remained the one constant in her mind which reminded her daily that
she would never fit in with these people. That Kael would never fully understand her, or know her. She spent much of her time concentrating on forgetting the steps, unable to focus her attention on Kael’s lingering stare. The expression she saw on his strong features sent shivers through her. He had never before looked at her with such heated anger.
“I beg you to never grant him your private company ever again. Do you promise me?” he asked, his voice stern. His rage was gradually subsiding while watching her twirl under his arm, stumbling over her feet to face him again.
“You are unfair to him, really. But for your sake, I will try to maintain a greater distance when there is no one there to chaperone.”
“I am not unfair to him. If anything, I am too merciful for letting him live after what he has done. He deserves to die the most painful of deaths that Queen Vorsila could ever bestow upon a traitor as detestable as him.”
With another spin out away from his body, Leyna let her eyes trail over to the table where Zander had been standing, his face now lost in the crowd of people gathering at the dessert trays. Nervously she searched for him. Fearful of the thought that he might have left without any farewell to her.
Gislan. It only made sense that he would have returned to her side at the host table, flirting with her unabashedly, the way he always did. Distracted from the dance, she let Kael continue to lead her through the motions blindly, scanning the line of people at the table for Zander. She was surprised to find him absent, though something else stood out to her that she hadn’t noticed before. An unfamiliar pair of blackened eyes were fixed on her from behind Oksuva and Gislan. Cold and hard in their abyssal darkness from one side to the other. Two endless holes positioned on either side of his nose. There was no color which would indicate where the pupil faced, but there was no denying their focus.
“Kael, do you know who that man is?” If Kael had spoken anything further on their previous topic, it had fallen on deaf ears. And she didn’t care if her random inquiry revealed her lack of interest in his stubborn grudge against Zander. All that mattered now was this strange man, his gaze ever present on her skin even when she looked away, hoping to escape the uncomfortable sensation.
Following her eyes, Kael shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by the odd presence this man was emanating. He exuded power unlike any of the Ven’shal associates who had visited these walls. “That is Oran Bedrick. Mikel’s gift to Oksuva for their anniversary. Did you not hear anything I said?”
“I heard you,” she said, distracted. “What do you mean by gift? He is giving her another man? Why would he do that?”
“He is not giving her the man in the sense you might think,” Kael grumbled. He was annoyed with her. She’d ignored his ranting about Zander and it was obvious to him that she wasn’t going to allow the conversation to veer back to it. “Since the day Oksuva met Mikel, she has been trying to gain an audience with a particular Ven’shal man, but his name has never reached my ears. All I know is that Mikel had no means of contacting the one she wanted, this man being well outside his realm of knowledge and the social circle he kept. From what I gather, Oran is an associate for someone who knows her desired subject personally. Through him, it could grant her a means of finally meeting her target.”
“How did he come to know Oran then, if these people are so elusive?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?” Kael ceased his movement on the dance floor, drawing Leyna off to the side against the wall. “I recommend that you not take any interest in it. These men are not anyone you should go anywhere near, and certainly shouldn’t let your curiosity pull you in.”
She stared hard into his eyes. It was difficult to look beyond the dimness there that she’d overlooked before, now irrefutable. But when had the change happened? How could she have possibly missed it? Or could it be something new. Something that had come to pass between the time she last saw him and the present.
“You tell me not to let my curiosity pull me in, and demand I not go anywhere near these men – and yet what of the things which you should not be curious about? The things which you should not dabble in?”
“Eleni, you aren’t making any sense. What are you talking about?”
Firmly grasping the sides of his face in her hands, she held him still. “Do you think it is not noticeable? Did you think I would not see it?”
Realization. It was obvious in his eyes. He knew suddenly, with absolute clarity, what she was referring to. A glimmer of shame flittered over his features. The anger she’d seen there only moments before dissipated into nothingness, returning the gentleness to his gaze that she was used to seeing there. “I could not help it. Mikel insisted on it. He is too powerful of a man to deny. Not to mention he knows how to tug on someone’s strings just right until they do exactly what he wants.”
“What could he have possibly said or done which would possess you to manipulate that sorcery?”
“He questioned my loyalty… and threatened to harm you if I did not comply.” He cast his eyes downward, avoiding her steady gaze. “It is no secret around this house that his marriage with Oksuva is hanging by a thread. If I had not done as he commanded, he wouldn’t have thought twice about taking you, the way he threatened to the first time he saw you and I together. I couldn’t bear to see him do that to you.”
“But why did he command it?”
“A test.”
A test? To Leyna, it sounded more surreptitious on Mikel’s part. A hidden reason for his requests. But what? What would Mikel stand to gain from Kael sinking into the Ven’shal magic? “Did something happen which would have caused him to think you disloyal?”
“Now is not the place to discuss it.”
It was a yes without having to speak the word. Her heart sank in her chest, wishing everyone in the room would disappear. She pulled her hands away from his face, slowly, unable to look at him. She couldn’t remember ever having wanted a glass of wine as badly as she did at that moment.
Rubbing her head, she started to walk away from him, her body pulled back roughly at Kael’s strong grasp on her wrist. “Where are you going?”
“Away,” she snapped. With a hard twist of her wrist, she broke free of him, storming off into the crowd. The heavy golden fabric of her skirt swished at her quick pace, nearly tripping her with its length. In her haste, she’d failed to gather it up in her hands to prevent stepping on the hem, grabbing it irritably as she managed to maintain her balance, hoping no one witnessed her stumble.
Her skin crawled, alerting her to the eyes of Oran following her through the mass of guests clogging the room. Dancers had taken up the center of the floor, pushing the rest of the crowd along the outer edges, and into Leyna’s path, preventing her from making the progress away from Kael that she’d hoped for.
For the sake of the mission, she needed to get back to Oksuva. She couldn’t do what Kael asked of her, avoiding this mystery man who held such rank amongst the Ven’shal. Her job was to find out as much as she could about them. What use would she be to her people if she knew there was something of possible interest and she passed it up because a man told her to? Since when had she ever listened to what anyone told her to do, anyway?
Finally the table was within her sight, the crowd thinning to allow her passage along the back wall to where Oksuva and Gislan were seated, talking excitedly to the mysterious man. From her closer view, she could see him now, clad in heavy damask, the black threads matching the color of his hair and eyes. A tiny upturn on his nose gave an appearance of constant disapproval. His lips curled in a sly smile, noticing Leyna’s approach.
“Ah, she is even more fair than I had thought from a distance,” he greeted, bowing low, while gallantly taking her hand to kiss the back of it. “I beg you, Miss Oksuva. Will you introduce me to this stunning creature?”
“That? That is merely one of my attendants. Eleni. One of my husband’s slave girls.” Leyna could hear the detestation in Oksuva’s voice at Oran’s interest, ignoring his previ
ous company with her and Gislan. “While you are here, Eleni, make yourself useful and tell Oran that it would be worth his master’s time to come visit us here in Dalonshire. He does not seem to believe me, or my sister. I am running out of ways to convince him.”
Yes. He had to bring his master there. She needed to know who it was, and what Oksuva’s intentions were in meeting them. But it would do her little good if Oksuva refused to allow her to be present for the meeting. “What would it require to convince you to bring your master here for my lady to speak with?”
She didn’t like the way his eyes slowly moved over her body, taking in every detail, appraising, and apparently pleased with what he saw there. “For you? I tell you what, Oksuva. We may be able to work something out after all.”
Sitting up straight in her chair, Oksuva’s eyes opened wide, glancing over to Leyna in confusion. “Really?” she asked. “And what exactly would you ask of me to make it so? You know I would be willing to give you almost anything you desire.”
“Do you think your husband would mind if I took you away for a bit? To discuss this matter privately?”
“I really couldn’t care less if he minded or not,” Oksuva frowned. Fluidly, she rose to her feet, offering her arm out to Oran. “He might have more fun in my absence, anyway.”
Curious, Leyna turned to watch Oran and Oksuva, their tall, wiry bodies weaving easily through the crowd, disappearing down a dark hallway. Gislan looked miserable, deprived of her sister’s company, left without even Zander to occupy her need for constant attention. “Well, you clean up nicely, at least,” she waved dismissively, shifting in her seat to face back to the plate of food on the table in front of her. “I don’t see, however, what any of these men find so attractive about you.”
“Perhaps it is my endeavors to not make it appear as though my body is easily accessible, the way some people do.”
It felt good to take a passive jab at Gislan. So many times, Leyna had been the focus of Gislan’s ridicule, assumed to be due to jealousy at the thought of Leyna having been with Zander, whom she now claimed to be hers; and hers alone. She could feel the anger rising up in Gislan as she brushed by her, making her way to her station at the end of the table.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 40
