Short hair was out of fashion in Kentoria. Elia turned her head this way and that, examining it in the mirror. After what Banne’s knife took, there was nothing to be done. The rest had to be cut in order to make it presentable. Shoulder length was not as short as it could have been, she supposed, and it made her curls more lively, but she wondered what people would say.
“What do you think?” she asked as her family’s maidservant wiped clean the scissors and put them away.
Angene paused to consider her for a moment, then gave a shrug. “You look more spirited. But you have for some time, now.”
Elia grinned. Romaric had said the same thing, though she hadn’t yet had Angene shear off her hair when her brother had departed for his next cycle of guard duty. Rather, he’d said something about the return of her light.
They’d been sent back to Kentoria separately, with him being carted off first thing the following morning. She’d stayed behind a day longer, waiting for King Valdessic’s carefully penned response. More than one cup of tea had been enjoyed with Queen Alessia while he wrote. In the end, he hadn’t completed it and promised to send it along later.
Romaric had been overcome with relief when she made her appearance, as had her parents. Part of her had hoped the rest of her elder brothers might be present, but she’d lost track of time and no longer knew when to expect them home. It was just as well, she supposed; it gave her time to write a proper report of events to deliver to the king. That she’d been returned whole and well and that a reply from Valdessic was forthcoming was already known. By now, all of Samara had to know.
As Elia fluffed her curls one last time, a knock sounded at the front door and her heart all but leaped out of her chest. “I’ll get it,” she called before Angene so much as turned. Her feet carried her down the stairs so fast, she wondered that she didn’t fall.
“Goodness, child, slow down!” her father called from the front parlor as she flew to the front door.
She yanked open the door and froze. “Peretor!”
Her friend shuffled on the front step and offered an awkward smile. “Oh, I… I didn’t expect you’d be the one to answer.”
“You didn’t? Why are you here?”
He put a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Ah, to apologize. To you. I mean, I came to see you, but I didn’t know you’d… Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ll just skip right to that.”
“Sorry?” Elia blinked twice. “Whatever for?”
“I’m not real proud of how things turned out at the end of everything that happened.” Peretor scuffed the toe of his boot at the ground. “It felt a lot like running away.”
She inched forward and drew the door almost shut behind her, offering them a little more privacy from prying eyes inside. “No one thought you were running away, Peretor. The whole situation was dangerous, and your uncle was right there, dragging you off. To be honest, I can’t believe you’re out here just walking about right now.”
He smiled, but it was halting, nervous. “Well, it’s easier without him around, that’s for sure.”
Elia had already heard about Vinson’s arrest. Peretor’s safety had been one of the first things she’d asked about upon her return. “I heard King Gaius granted you your uncle’s estate.”
He nodded. “Just for now, until his sons come of age. They’re a good bit younger than me, so it’ll be a few years. And that’s part of what makes me sorry, too. I feel like I’ve benefited from everything that happened to you, and you’ve got nothing at all.”
The faintest of sly smiles curved her lips. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve gotten plenty.”
“Have you? Huh.” The way he scratched the back of his neck told her he didn’t believe it. “Well, that’s all. I’m out running errands and I figured I’d at least stop by. And if you need anything, anything I can offer, you let me know, all right?”
“I will. Thank you, Peretor. Truly. From the bottom of my heart.” She touched her breastbone in earnestness.
Peretor smiled back and offered a half-hearted wave before he retreated to the gate.
She watched until he latched it behind him, then stepped inside.
“Elia, dearest, who was that?” her father called from the parlor.
“That was Peretor.” She padded down the hall and around the corner to stand beside her father’s desk below the wide window. Early spring growth put a haze of green beyond the gauzy curtains. Had it only been a few weeks ago that it was winter, and they’d sat on the couches in this very parlor the night after a blizzard?
“Came to say hello, did he? Good. There’s been some talk about him, you know. People worried he’s not all well after everything he’s been through.” Her father sat back and gave her a speculative frown. After all they had been through, he meant.
“I’m sure he’ll recover. He’s a clever young man, and he has good business acumen. A few weeks with the merchant board will set him right in no time.” It was a small stroke to her father’s ego, but it worked well, for he puffed up a bit.
Then, abruptly, he put down his pen. “You know, my dear, all that’s transpired has had me thinking. I know you’ve always enjoyed being here with me and your mother, but it may be time to start thinking of the future.”
The time for that had been a decade ago, when all her friends were paired off and married. She made herself smile, all the same. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I—by the Light, who is that now?” Her father leaned sideways and peered out the window.
Elia’s heart leaped.
“Are they leading horses up my path?” He leaped from his chair and hustled for the door, only to reach it at the same time as Angene. The maidservant curtsied and drew the door wide, letting her father pass first.
Elia ran to join them with her heart pounding in her chest. For several days, she’d expected this, unsure of how fast they could travel. Now, she could hardly keep herself from bursting out the door to greet the horsemen.
“Is that…?” Her father trailed off and put a hand atop his head in clear confusion.
The horses stopped halfway up the path. From his point in the lead, Cassian looked down and met her eye.
Elia touched her chest as emotion swelled. He’d dressed in finery for the occasion, his beard trimmed meticulously short and his waves of dark hair smooth. He’d always struck her as handsome. Now, he would make every woman in Samara swoon.
He didn’t look for long, turning his attention to her father instead. “Good evening, Lord Myroth.”
“You… You’re that scoundrel,” he stammered out.
Cass gave his head the slightest bow. “Our last meeting could have gone better. Let me try again.” He slid from his horse, showing no sign of the injury that had kept him from returning to Kentoria by her side. His polished boots clicked against the stone walkway as he turned and touched one hand to his chest. “I am Lord Cassian Daros, younger brother of Queen Alessia of Nylmeres.”
Elia smiled so broadly, she had to gather her skirts in both hands just to keep her composure.
Her father gaped. “You—by the Light, you’re royalty? Why in all the heavens are you here?”
A tiny smile worked at the corners of Cassian’s mouth as he looked past the old man and met Elia’s eyes. “I’ve come to make a proposal.”
“And so our little spymaster claims her prize.” Gaius moved a small, brightly-colored wooden piece across the map and placed it atop the capital of Nylmeres. He braced his hands against the edge of the table, observing the rest of the peninsula occupied by Kentoria and its neighbors. Thea dared say the look on his face was smug.
She paced around his table and its maps to slide an arm around his waist. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in response, pulling her close. She nestled in, grateful for his touch. The first kiss of spring was in the air, but nights were still cold. “Are we really going to call her that now?” She’d been joking when she suggested it to Elia, all those weeks ago.
“I don’t see why we oughtn’t. The space is vacant, and she’s now in a rather advantageous position.” He paused to add a second wooden piece, this one dark. Somehow, it looked right when he put it next to the piece representing her cousin.
“I don’t think Valdessic and Alessia will appreciate having a spy planted in their midst.” The letter they’d received back from the Nylmerian rulers lay at the edge of the table, alongside the letter informing them of Cassian and Elia’s engagement. She brushed her fingers against its corner. The warmth of Valdessic’s response to the wedding invitation had come as a surprise. Was it wise to plant eyes and ears in the middle of Nylmeres so soon after that bridge was mended?
Gaius made a soft, thoughtful sound. “They’d likely be bothered if we didn’t plant one. Elia’s relation to you means she’ll be welcome within our walls, and Cassian comes with her. There’s no telling how much information he’ll carry back to the Nylmerian crown.”
“So we need our own spy in their palace to balance things out?” Thea was only guessing, but she was not surprised when her husband nodded.
“It’s a gesture of goodwill, if you can believe it. An acknowledgment that there will be no secrets between their kingdom and ours.” He kissed the top of her head, but his eyes remained on the map.
“In that case, their marriage is convenient, to say the least.” She squeezed his waist. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this from the start.”
A sly sort of smile curved his lips.
Thea leaned back to peer at him. “You didn’t, did you?”
“It takes but fifty hours of interaction for a friendship to begin, and two hundred for an intimate relationship. They’d accomplished the first on their own before I even knew Cassian was here. All they needed after that was a little push.”
She gasped and swatted his chest.
All it yielded was a chuckle and another kiss to the top of her head.
“I should have known you were up to something when you gave her permission to accompany him,” Thea muttered, though it had been her idea to begin with. “I’m not even surprised that you’d have interpersonal bonds figured out to the hour.”
“Tragic, when you consider what I used that information for in the past.” He rubbed her back with one hand, then sobered and withdrew. “Now there’s only the problem of Albanhaite.”
“The assassin?” She crossed her arms as he leaned against the table again.
“We still don’t know who sent her, but we have one lead.” His gaze slipped across the map to Angroth, the little teardrop-shaped country to the north. They’d been there before, driven by a task Thea no longer wished to think about, regardless of how it had pushed the two of them together. With a mystery left to solve, she couldn’t avoid letting it into her thoughts.
She drummed her fingers against her arm, missing the warmth of his body nestled against her side. “Do you think it has something to do with Lucan?”
“Unlikely, unless he set things in motion long before Eccenthe was killed. I’d suspected his involvement in that situation, but it made no sense.”
“Because the blade that took her wasn’t yours,” she concluded.
Gaius gave a slow nod.
“What do we do, then?” Thea had expected some sort of retaliation, but they’d not heard so much as a whisper from Angroth’s queen.
He straightened. “We’ll send someone.”
“You can’t just move people about on a board, Gaius. These are lives, not games.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he protested. “I just happen to know someone who might enjoy a trip to the isolated but legendary library in Styrnox. Someone who will be coming to pay us a visit for our wedding soon.”
Understanding hit her like a wave. She dropped her arms. “Rilion.”
Gaius smirked and moved a lonely piece across the map.
