CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AT FIRST, THEY just went to court. They arrived every evening, and Sefoni played shanj all night.
By this time, news of her shanj prowess was well known, and every shanj player in the whole of the Briganian aristocracy wanted to try his skill against hers.
Sefoni had never lost a game, and she didn’t lose against any of these men, either. She played—game after game—trouncing one man and then the next man, until Haid would come and collect her, claiming that he wanted to dance or that he was bored or any number of reasons.
But Sefoni knew it was calculated, that he never wanted her to play too long.
One evening, he pointed out two men, who were servants in the court, and he said that they’d been watching her games and taking notes. “For Madigain, undoubtedly,” he said. “He’s watching you.”
They didn’t come back to court after that.
They visited a few dinner parties, here and there, and the same pattern continued, with Sefoni playing games and beating men until Haid collected her.
But as time passed, they went to those parties less and less.
Now, Haid spent half of his time with his nose buried in obscure shanj books. Sefoni was delighted, having never seen these books before, thinking that she had read everything on shanj. One was very old, with browning pages, and it was not even about shanj, but about the game that had proceeded shanj, its forebearer. It had come across on the explorer ship from Kandja along with Haid’s ancestors.
However, Haid would not let her read the books, which she found rather hard, but he said it would do her no good to memorize strategies, because her natural talent was thus that she was better than anything written in any book.
He was only reading the books to provide a challenge to her.
They began to spend every afternoon in the library of his townhouse, bent over shanj boards. Haid would have five or six books at his disposal, paging through them, consulting them as he made his moves, and Sefoni would have to react.
This was heady and exciting for her, because it was a challenge.
One afternoon, Haid beat her.
She gaped at the board, at his fingers wrapped around her regx piece, and she was stunned. She wasn’t even sure how she felt. She’d never lost a game of shanj before, and it was an odd feeling. It was…
Well, it wasn’t actually good.
“You all right?” he said, eyeing her. He set the regx down.
“Of course,” she said stiffly.
He smirked at her. “Perhaps we should play strip shanj. Whoever loses has to remove an article of clothing, and I want you to take off your dress.”
“My entire dress?” She drew herself up. “How about one of my slippers?”
“Come now, we both know I won’t win again,” he said. “I’ll easily end up utterly nude, and this is my only chance to get out of your clothes at all. I suppose you want to play another match immediately to reassert your natural dominance?”
“I’m not dominant,” she said, glaring at him.
“You can be sometimes,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “Have I told you I like that in a woman?”
“Will you play again?” she said.
“Of course,” he said.
And they did, and she won. They played another game after that, and she won again.
But… the loss… it unsettled her in some way.
They spent every night together. Usually in Haid’s room, sometimes in hers. Hers was closer to the library, and if they were quite eager after an afternoon of shanj, they might end up there instead, and have supper brought up for them to eat wrapped in blankets in front of the fire.
That night, she might have been dominant, purposefully dominant. She put her mouth on his scar and licked it until he was stiff and then she rode him until they were both out of breath, demanding he hold off his climax for so long she was sure he would break and that it wouldn’t work, but…
Well, he was hers, wasn’t he?
Afterward, he nuzzled her breasts and said sleepily that he was going to have to beat her at shanj more often.
She was bothered by this, and she lay awake long after he was asleep, wondering if there was something wrong with her.
Then she wasn’t even sure what the wrong thing was.
That she was unsettled by losing, when other people lost at shanj all the time? That she enjoyed telling Haid what to do in bed? That he seemed to think it was all absolutely fine when she was so unsettled?
He didn’t beat her again for days.
When he did, she was even more upset by it than she had been the time before, and she was so upset with herself for being upset that she got to her feet and left the room without a word.
Haid called after her.
She ignored him.
She wanted to go outside, but it was cold, fiercely cold, the dead of winter, and so she had to settle for the downstairs sitting room, where Haid would certainly come for her.
Except he didn’t.
She heard him at the doorway, being intercepted by a servant with a message from Mairli.
“Maiss Utherain sends word that she is having trouble getting the metal you want,” the servant said. “The seller she works with is demanding more money than she can get her hands on.”
“Oh,” said Haid. “Well, how much?”
The servant told him.
“Blazes,” said Haid. “That much, I’ll need to go to the vault at the Sticx.”
And he left.
When he came back, it was hours later, and he had missed dinner.
“Sorry,” he said, finding her in her bedchamber. “I had a devil of a time with Mairli. She kept talking about various sundries. I think she is making up problems because she is lonely. Her new house is nice, though. She says it’s a loan from Tristanne. I can’t make heads or tails of the two of them.”
She was sitting by the fire, and she had the Kandjan book in her hands. She’d been reading it. It was very interesting stuff. The game had been quite similar when it was first conceived, but it hadn’t used the same sorts of pieces. “Yes, I don’t know what to make of Mairli and Tristanne either.”
“It’s coming along nicely, though. She’s so very talented.” He spied the book in her hands and strode across the room and snatched it out of her hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to lock these up. Of course you got into the books.” He sighed heavily.
“I thought the object of all of this was to make sure that I was better than Madigain, that I was the best shanj player that I could be.”
“It is,” he said.
“So, why do you need to beat me?” She was surprised how bitter she sounded.
He sat down next to her in a chair by the fire. “You know I’m cheating, don’t you? It’s meaningless that I beat you. I’m only doing it because I’m denying you knowledge that I have, and it’s also the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I’m surprised I’ve managed it at all.”
“Is it because you want to lord it over me?” she said.
“No,” he said, laughing. “Although you are taking it a bit harder than I thought you would, I must say. And even with knowing I’m cheating, it still bothers you.”
“I’m not…” She was embarrassed of her reaction. “I don’t mean to be bothered.”
“Do you want to punish me for it?” His eyes danced and he gave her a teasing smile.
She blushed, looking away. “Is that why? It’s because of sex. You like it when I’m forceful with you?”
“No, that’s just a happy side effect.”
She glanced at him. “I have to say it doesn’t make sense to me. After what you went through with the Cowntess, I would think—”
“Oh, there had to be some part of me that was susceptible to the Cowntess, didn’t there?” He waved this way. “My predilections precede her interference, and I’ll thank you not to further associate anything we do with her.” He shuddered.
“Apologies,” she whispe
red.
“It’s because I want you to know what it feels like,” he said.
“What what feels like?” She was still contemplating what it would mean to punish him exactly. What would that entail? Why did it sound so intriguing to her?
“Losing,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “But why? I’m not supposed to lose to Madigain, am I? You want me to beat him, I thought you said. It’s about humiliation, public humiliation, and it must be complete.”
“No, not to Madigain, but you will have to lose occasionally,” he said. “We have to engineer certain aspects of the tournament to make sure the right people end up in the right places. And so, strategically, sometimes, you will lose.”
“Oh,” she said, furrowing her brow.
“You remember when you came to me the night before we stole the bracelet, and you told me that you couldn’t pretend to want to be kissed because you hadn’t been kissed?”
“Yes,” she said. “I see. I can’t pretend to lose if I haven’t lost.”
“Precisely,” he said. “And I couldn’t tell you that, because it would have ruined it. You wouldn’t have really felt it.”
“You’ve been manipulating me,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Does that make you angry?” he said. “Do you want to punish me for that?”
“You’re very interested in being punished,” she said, and she couldn’t keep something sultry from seeping into her tone.
He grinned at her. “I could punish you if you’d rather.”
Something low in her belly tightened. “Haid,” she said in protest, but there wasn’t much strength in it.
“I have it!” He lifted a finger. “We’ll play strip shanj, and you must lose on purpose as many times as it takes to get off everything you’re wearing.”
She shook her head at him.
“That’s a good punishment, don’t you think?” He got to his feet. “I’m going to go find a shanj board and some pieces.”
“Haid!” she protested again, but this time she was laughing.
“Or we could go straight for the spanking.”
She felt heat come to her face. “Haid!”
He smirked.
She leaned forward. “People do that?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve invented the idea entirely on my own, of course.”
“I hate you,” she decided.
“Mmm,” he said. “Well, perhaps you’ll spank me, then.”
She was mortified. She was laughing. She hid her face and clutched the top of her head.
“The shanj board then?” he said, his voice a purr. “Perhaps we’ll work up to the spanking.”
“I’M NOT TEACHING you anything else, ever,” exploded Tristanne, sitting back on her heels. She was in the sitting room of her townhouse with Sefoni, and in front of them, set out on the floor, were a number of locks of various sizes and colors. Some were padlocks and others she had removed from doors and vaults herself.
They were her practice locks, which she liked to run through in order to make sure that she had not lost her touch. Sometimes, she simply liked to pick locks for pleasure. It could be very satisfying just in and of itself.
“You’re impossible, dove,” said Tristanne. “I don’t think you can learn.”
“Perhaps it’s you,” said Sefoni, tossing the lock picks she was holding onto the carpet. “You may simply be a terrible teacher.”
“I assure you, it’s not me.” Tristanne pushed up to her feet and stalked to the other side of the room, swinging her arms back and forth. “I like you a great deal, Sefoni, and I know Haid is head over heels for you, and I want nothing but his happiness. But I think he overestimates your skills.”
“I can do it,” said Sefoni.
“No, I’m the lockpicker,” said Tristanne. “So, I should be picking the lock. I still want to go in the window. You can let me in that way. I’ll climb up the side of the building and be at the window.”
“You’ll have to take it up with Haid,” said Sefoni. “You know it’s his plan. He doesn’t even share it with me, not all the aspects.”
“But what does he have Mairli doing?” said Tristanne.
“Oh, I should think that would be obvious,” said Sefoni. “Why else do you think he wanted her?”
“The brooch,” muttered Tristanne. “Of course.”
“That brooch?” said Sefoni, pointing across the room at it.
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Sefoni.
“Let’s not talk of it.”
“You mean let’s not talk of Mairli,” said Sefoni, picking up a padlock. “But you’re the one who brought her up.”
“There’s nothing to say of her.”
“You gave her a loan for that house that she purchased.” Sefoni thrust her tongue between her lips as she concentrated on sliding one of the lock picks in the lock.
“I did, and I would have bought it outright,” said Tristanne.
“You care about her.”
“I don’t want to care about her. I don’t want to care about anything.” Tristanne knew she sounded petulant. She didn’t care.
Sefoni wiggled the lock pick about in the lock searchingly, just as Tristanne had been showing her to do. “You care about Haid.”
Tristanne sighed. “That’s not the same. He can take care of himself.”
Sefoni looked up from the lock.
“Mairli makes me weak,” said Tristanne.
Sefoni nodded slowly. “Ah.” She turned back to the lock. “Yes, I understand that.”
“Do you, dove?” Tristanne came back across the room and sat down on the floor next to her. “Give me that.” She snatched the padlock away from Sefoni. “You can’t just poke around in there willy nilly. You have to carefully feel around until you find the proper place for the pins.” Expertly, she clicked the lock down with the pick and then handed it to Sefoni. “Try. Just there.”
Sefoni furrowed her brow, and repeated Tristanne’s movement. Then her eyes widened when she did find it. “Oh!”
“It’s like finding a woman’s clit,” said Tristanne.
Sefoni snorted.
“Feels almost as good,” said Tristanne.
Sefoni twisted the lock pick and the lock fell open. “Ha!”
“Yes, yes, very nice, but I did it for you,” said Tristanne.
“Fine,” said Sefoni, snatching up another lock and inserting one of the lock picks into it.
“You’ll need two of them,” said Tristanne, picking up the other pick and handing it to her.
“Madigain used me because of my weakness in caring for Lynette,” said Sefoni. “That’s the queen. She’s my cousin, you know. I’ve seen her at court a few times recently, and she is as she always has been, oblivious. Once, when I told her of what the Cowntess was doing, she insisted we must bring the Cowntess to justice in some way, but we couldn’t because she didn’t have her bracelet back. When she got it back, of course, she had no thought of justice. She’s… I love her, but she’s remarkably self-centered, and I don’t think she can help it. I, however, am just not built that way.” She thrust out her tongue between her lips again.
“You’re quite adorable when you do that,” said Tristanne. “It’s rather a pity that you and Haid are so thoroughly enmeshed with each other. I have no chance with you at all.”
“Oh, you don’t want me.”
“How do you know what I want, dove?”
Sefoni worked at the lock for several moments. “I think you want Mairli. And I don’t think it’s so bad to be weak. I wouldn’t change it about myself, personally. I wouldn’t be like Lynette is, utterly focused on myself, blind to everyone else’s plight. I don’t think you wish to be that way either.”
“I want to be safe,” said Tristanne.
“Well, we’re never safe,” said Sefoni. “Safety is impossible to achieve.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, there’s always something, isn’t
there? Something you didn’t plan for, something you couldn’t have predicted? Lightning strikes. Dumonte invades with a firestarting king. Madigain seduces your beloved cousin. What’s more important is not keeping yourself safe but being ready to react to whatever happens.”
Tristanne furrowed her brow. Interesting perspective. Of course… “That’s easy to say when you’re a firestarter yourself. Anything that comes at you, you can simply burn to ash.”
“I suppose,” said Sefoni. “Perhaps I could have contrived to get close to Madigain and burned him to death and taken the bracelet back all on my own. But then I would never have met Haid, and…” She sighed. “Well, Haid and I are part of each other now.”
Tristanne felt that like a sharp blade to her heart, and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t because she wanted to be part of someone else. It wasn’t that at all.
“You and Mairli could be too,” said Sefoni. “She cares about you. Why don’t you… whatever you’ve done to her, you could apologize, you know?”
“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” muttered Tristanne. “And I don’t wish to talk about this anymore. Give me that lock.”
“If you unlock all of them and I unlock none of them, I’m never going to learn.”
“Oh, you’re never going to learn regardless, dove. It’s as I’ve been saying, you’re hopeless.”
“YOU’RE SLOW,” PAIRCE said, yanking her knives out of the wall. She and Cadon were down in the room in the Sticx where Cadon had once been kept. Now, the room didn’t contain a bed, and it was set up as a room for practice. There were various man-shaped effigies that were strewn about the room.
“No, you’re going too fast,” said Cadon, who was bent over, panting. “You have the easy part of it, simply throwing those knives, whereas I’m doing all the heavy work, and you expect me to run all over the place.”
“They’ll be fast,” said Pairce, tucking her knives back into the holsters where she kept them at her ankles. “Now reset the room.”
“Give me a minute,” Cadon said, wheezing.
“I’ll do it.” She went over to one of the effigies and picked him up. It was stuffed with straw but yet still somewhat heavy. She set it up on the stand and put an ax into the handle they had contrived for its hand.
Scars and Swindlers Page 23
