Guilt clawed at Elia’s belly until she thought she might be ill.
Cass had saved her life. He’d treated her kindly, escorted her home, and then she’d repaid him by casting doubt on his character at the first question that arose.
At the very least, she owed him an apology, but that was something she couldn’t offer until he opened the door.
She knocked again.
“Cass?” she called when no answer came. “I just want to talk for a moment.”
Still no response. For a moment, she warred with herself. Then she tried the door.
It swung open easily, revealing a dark room on the other side.
A dark and empty room. The curtains were open to the snowy night beyond the windows and the bed was still made.
Her stomach turned over.
Had he abandoned her again?
Behind her, a half dozen guards ran, the rattle of their armor loud as thunder in the hall. She craned her neck to see where they were headed. Two groups converged, and now, her heart sank. Cass was gone. The guards were on alert. Fear lanced through her, ice cold.
“Don’t be the reason they’re running,” she whispered to herself as she turned around and shut the door tight. “Please don’t be the reason they’re running.”
He was supposed to take her with him. They were supposed to solve this together. Instead, she’d offended him, perhaps hurt him, and now… She hurried after the guards, their heavy footfalls guiding the way.
She didn’t know what she expected, but the crowd she found wasn’t it. Guards clustered around two figures at an intersection.
Elia’s stomach lurched.
“Let him go,” Thea said from the other hall.
The men remained frozen. Elia stood with a cluster of guards behind the man in a deep green cloak, but she paid him little mind. Cass stood opposite her, and when his eyes met hers, the look of guilt that crossed his face was not so fleeting that she could have missed it.
The cloaked figure gave the slightest tilt of his head. “Should I? He seems to have attacked me with a… is that fruit?”
“You attacked me,” Cass replied through clenched teeth.
“I certainly did not. I was merely walking when you rounded the corner and threw that at me.” His other knife swept to the side, its tip pointed at the half-eaten pear that lay at the juncture of the floor and wall. “Terribly wasteful. Have you any notion how expensive it is to import and keep pears through the winter?”
Cass’s lip peeled back. “You have a knife to my throat and you want to lecture me about fruit?”
“You’re lucky it’s only to your throat, and hasn’t yet cut it.”
“Gil,” Thea scolded.
Neither of the men moved, and instead of breaking up the fight, the guards watched in amusement.
“I always knew you were tied to Kentoria,” Cass growled.
Elia gripped her skirts and tried to squeeze past the guards, her stomach turning somersaults the whole time. “You know each other, Your Majesty?”
Cass twitched and his eyes shot to her face, though his equanimity was fast to return.
“I rarely forget a blade I cross,” the king replied mildly. “Although I certainly never expected to find you here. I heard you retired.”
“I heard you were dead,” Cass replied dryly.
“Then it seems we have both fallen victim to hyperbole.” The king lowered his blade and took a step backwards, his stance relaxed. “Seize him.”
The guards surged forward, but Cass merely stepped back with a dark scowl. He did not fight when they took him by the arms and tore the knife from his hand for a second time.
Gaius sheathed his blades and Thea slipped forward to greet him with a hug. He kissed the top of her head and gave Elia a thoughtful glance. “I didn’t expect to have guests during this weather.”
“A lot has happened over the past day, Your Majesty,” Elia said with a small curtsy. She still never knew how to behave around the king. He was so cordial with her, she always feared her comfort would lead her to impropriety. Yet he never seemed to mind informality, and he’d suggested she call him by first name more than once. If it bothered him that she didn’t, she doubted she would ever know. For all that he was affable and welcoming, he was no less secretive than Cass.
Whom she didn’t know at all, she told herself as she glanced his way. He watched all of them, his brows drawn together, but the rest of his face unreadable. She’d never known him at all. They’d only met the day before. How had he so easily convinced her that he could be trusted? A strange ache swelled in her chest.
“I assume you tell me this because those events are what led to me finding him within my castle,” the king said.
Elia tried not to cringe. “I… Yes. There’s a lot to tell, Your Majesty.”
He regarded her with the same thoughtful, guarded look, then turned toward Cass. “You’re being rather quiet.”
“Not much for talking,” Cass said. His shoulders were tense, but he made no effort to escape his captors.
“Yes, I do recall that.” The king offered a grim smile. “I suggest now as a good time to break the habit.”
The flex of a muscle in Cass’s jaw betrayed his reluctance before his silence did, but the creases between his brows deepened. “I had no intention of coming here, and less intention to hide. I asked to speak with you directly.”
“Not knowing I would recognize you?” Gaius smirked.
“I had my suspicions.”
“Which is why it’s hard to imagine you’d present yourself before me. Rulers want information. I understand.” Gaius waved a hand toward the walls and ceiling. “But believe me, I have no quarrel with Nylmeres. My word has never been worth anything to your king, but you get to decide if it has value to you.”
Cass snorted. “Hard to trust an assassin.”
The king’s smile grew tight. “Yes, you would know.”
The knots in Elia’s stomach grew ever tighter. She stepped back, her head bowed. Gaius was too smitten with her cousin to punish her harshly, but she couldn’t see herself escaping punishment altogether. Her hands drifted until they clenched together in front of her stomach, fears she’d only just quashed surging to the forefront of her mind.
How had she trusted him? How had she spoken on his behalf? Everything he’d said, every word about helping Peretor, meant nothing now.
An assassin. A chill ran down her spine.
What would her father say?
At last, Gaius sighed and waved to his guards. “Take him to a holding cell. Station two guards to watch him at all times. Do not leave the cell unattended for any reason.”
The men turned, and as they pushed him forward, Cass turned his head to catch Elia’s eye. “It’s not what you think,” he said so softly, the words tugged at her heart.
She watched them escort him away with a lump rising in her throat.
“The rest of you are dismissed,” the king continued. “I have no need for protection within my own walls, especially not from those who would let a known danger walk through the front door. Someone fetch a maidservant and have a drink delivered to my private quarters.”
The remaining guards shuffled away, either eager to carry out orders and escape, or abashed at the scolding.
Elia swallowed hard. “And me, Your Majesty?”
He snorted. “By all the goodness of the Light, Elia, please. Don’t use such formality when we are in private. Come, we have much to discuss.”
She put her head down and crept along behind him as he took Thea’s hand in his and led the way to his rooms. Her eyes latched onto their fingers, his warm, golden-toned skin and Thea’s pale. The contrast was not so great as the difference between her own complexion and that Cass sported, but it was close, and it put a different sort of ache in her chest this time.
What if she’d touched him that way? What if she’d kissed him when it crossed her mind?
“I expect you’ll have questions of your own,” Gaius said as they walked. “You are welcome to ask, and it may be easier to begin if you share them now.”
Of course she had questions. The biggest was how they were supposed to begin.
Elia wet her lips with her tongue and made herself breathe. “He told me his name was Cass.”
Gaius nodded. “He was truthful. He is Cassian Daros. A Nylmerian agent and a capable Ligneumancer.”
“A Ligney-what?”
He wriggled his fingers. “Wood. Carpentry. Although he mostly used the skill to create weapons that royal Metalmancers couldn’t detect.”
“That explains the trees,” she murmured.
Gaius raised a brow. “Pardon?”
“He said he took a job working in a sugarbush. Working with the trees, I suppose.” Elia’s own ability was so minor, it affected her life little. But she’d worked with Thea and had seen firsthand the way life among the textiles was most comfortable for her cousin. Whether it was due to her abilities as a Threadmancer or due to the familiarity of such a setting, Elia didn’t know, but even in the palace, Thea hadn’t surrendered her needle and thread.
“Hm,” was the king’s response.
Thea squeezed his hand, then let go. A servant stood beside the door to his private quarters, so they didn’t have to open it themselves, but they could still only pass through the door single-file. Thea went first. “I apologize. I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t question.”
“Why would you question? You’ve never met him.” Gaius paused to wave Elia through the door ahead of him. “And I assume you only just have.”
Which made bringing him to the palace all the more foolish. “When you say he’s a Nylmerian agent, what does that mean? A spy?” Ironic, if so; that was supposed to be her role. She forced her hands down, but they trembled, and she found herself gripping her skirt to force them to be still.
“More often than not. There are some people who are difficult to encapsulate in a single word.”
“And some words are less encapsulating than others,” Thea said, amused. “Ligneumancer? Really, Gaius. You know the rest of us just call them woodworkers.”
“Which fails to brush upon the artisan magic at their fingertips,” he argued. “You are welcome to think of a term you like better. In the meantime, I would appreciate assistance in determining the best course of action for ensuring my holding cell is empty by morning.”
Elia stopped in the middle of the parlor. “You don’t mean to keep him here?”
“Certainly not. He will be held briefly, as formality dictates, to let the current king of Nylmeres know he was found. Then he will be released and allowed to carry information back to his liege.” Gaius unfastened his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. His black clothing was damp in places from melting snow, tiny clumps of which still clung to his boots.
“I don’t know if I have it in me to repeat the whole story.” Weariness from the late hour had long since set in, and in the wake of the excitement in the halls, Elia felt more tired than ever.
The king sat on a couch and opened his arms to Thea, who settled beside him and nestled close. “I don’t need the whole story. I know enough, and I know the Nylmerian crown’s reasons for animosity toward me. That animosity is part of why our friend will be let go. My predecessor damaged a number of our international relations, and the better I handle their former spymaster after capture, the better those things will go.”
Elia found her way to a chair and made herself sit. Any other time, it would have been comfortable. Now, it was a harsh reminder of where they were—and of the danger she’d unwittingly guided through the gates. At least now she knew what Cass had meant by allegiance, she thought bitterly. “Former spymaster?”
“Or so I understood. We’ve crossed paths more than once, as I am sure you have gathered. The only reason he still draws breath is because when last we met, I…” the king trailed off and a distant look took his eyes. “I did not feel my orders were just, and I let him walk away. In some respects, I suppose I should thank him for the change that realization brought.”
Beside him, Thea smiled.
He cleared his throat. “Nonetheless, men are not often comfortably reminded of their own mortality, and my own informants confirmed that after our confrontation, Cassian—Cass—ultimately resigned from his role as spymaster. What became of him after that was of little consequence, until now.”
Elia rubbed her hands together in her lap. “Do you suppose he’s come out of retirement?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I cannot fathom what sort of game this is. Or what I should do about it now.”
Game was not a word that would have crossed her mind, but she turned it over in her head, all the same. It rattled against the last thing Cass had said, and the things he’d said earlier.
That he was leaving. That he would go after Peretor’s kidnappers on his own. That he would see the job through. That it wasn’t what she thought.
Whatever it was.
“If I may,” Elia started, scarcely catching herself before she added an honorific, “I have an idea.”
Gaius raised a brow, but lounged against the arm of his couch. “Go on.”
She set her jaw and mustered her courage. Whatever it was Cass meant, they’d find out before long.
And if it was a game, there would have to be a winner.
She drew a breath and explained.
