Chapter 36 Kasira #2
He eyed her over his glass. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
“I thought we were past this.”
He snorted, taking a large draught of his wine. “I don’t know if we ever will be.”
Kasira gritted her teeth, becoming aware of the eyes and ears around them, the quiet whispers.
To anyone watching, it would look as though something were amiss between the Librarian and his Assistant, and they wouldn’t be wrong.
She ought to twist it to her advantage, to paint a picture of strife and weakness, but in that moment, all she could think about was the way he was looking at her, as if begging her to give him a reason to trust her.
She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to. But more than that, she did not want to lie to him again.
A reckless impulse surged within her, and she held out her hand. “Dance with me.”
Allaster clutched his wineglass closer. “I think not.”
Kasira set her drink on a nearby table before seizing his hand.
Allaster stared at the point of contact unblinkingly.
“Let me rephrase that,” she said. “This party consists of two types of people: those who support the Prince’s union and those who don’t, which can effectively be translated to allies and enemies.
And they’re all trying to gauge the same thing: the strength of the Library.
From their perspective, you got a worthless liar in place of a trained Assistant, Ambassador Vera wants both our heads, and the King has yet to listen to a word you have to say about beasts and the balance of magic. ”
Allaster was still staring at his hand in hers. “And us dancing helps us how?”
“It presents a united front. It quashes any rumors that the Library is divided or disrupted by my arrival. It makes us an ally worth having instead of the prey Vera wants us to be.” And it let her forget, if only for a moment, what was to come.
A complex web of thoughts worked its way across Allaster’s face, ending with a sigh of deep resignation. “I truly despise these games of perception.”
“Good thing I love them then,” she said and dragged him to the dance floor. He finished his wine and set the glass on the tray of a passing server, then allowed her to position him for the dance, despite looking as though he would prefer to be anywhere else.
He stared at her hand on his hip and his hand on her shoulder and said, “You have this backward …” But the music was already starting, and she tugged him along through the first few steps before he wrested control, flicking her hand free and dropping his own on her hip.
She half considered letting it stay there.
She was far too aware of his touch, the heat of his fingers burning through her dress as if nothing separated their skin.
Allaster was a good dancer—so was she—but with the two of them struggling over who would lead, their dance grew to resemble more of a battle.
He threw her so roughly into a spin that she dove into the magic for support, using it to pull herself back toward him with strength enough to drive her elbow into his ribs.
He wheezed, hand tightening about hers with magic-enhanced force, and then she was pushing him backward with every step, the lead reclaimed.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he grunted as they passed through a turn.
“You didn’t ask one,” she returned, but he only stared at her.
“Fine. Yes, I worked for Thane, but that was a long time ago. And if Vera visited my battalion, that’s news to me.
I was already gone.” She drove her shoulder toward him, forcing him back a step.
“The Paratal was doing a circuit of Malik camps, you know, and the two are never far apart.”
Allaster used her momentum to pull her through, spinning so she was the one going in reverse.
He moved her so easily, and she finally let her body flow at his direction, finding a rhythm with surprising ease.
The dexterity of his hands combined with the way each movement rode the edge of control brought a flush to her cheeks she prayed he dismissed as exertion.
“Why isn’t anything ever simple with you?” he grumbled.
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Perhaps because you insist on looking for knives where there are only outstretched hands.”
“Poetic.”
People were staring at them now. Their strength, agility, control—they were beyond anything those watching them could imagine, and the crowd gaped in open wonder.
Kasira’s face was caught halfway between a grin and a grimace, the same determination reflected in Allaster’s.
By the time the music swelled to an end, Allaster pinning her against his chest with one arm, they were both panting heavily.
“What message, precisely, did that send?” he growled in her ear.
It sent a shiver down her spine, and she spun out from his arm before she could make another poor decision, clapping with the rest of the bemused crowd around them to cover her sudden fluster.
“You wanted to be seen.” She nodded to the dance floor as they walked away.
“There wasn’t another couple within five feet of us. ”
There was a flush to his olive skin, his hair twice as disheveled as usual. Her fingers itched to sort it back into place. “And?” he pressed.
“And to most of these people, the Library is a faraway place of faraway magic capable of turning people into toads—”
“I told you—”
“I know,” she said, and the tenderness in her voice softened him in turn. “But they don’t. Let them see exactly what fucking with the Library will get them: us.”
Allaster gave her a bewildered look bordering on admiration. But whatever words hovered on his lips were swallowed back when a woman appeared at their side, executing a swift bow with a fist to her chest. When she rose, Kasira recognized her from Ayador as Queen Sarren’s aide, Ryn.
“Librarian,” she said. “My Queen requests a moment of your time.”
Allaster ran a hand through his hair, brushing the tousled curls back into place. “We should go when I return,” he told Kasira, before following Ryn.
Kasira snatched up another glass of wine and made her way through the crowd, seeking space to think.
That dance had not been part of the con.
It had been selfish and reckless, and though she didn’t think it would have any bearing on the final outcome of the Conclave, it had imprinted itself on her in a way that left her breathless.
She emerged at the edge of the crowd, where an older woman held court among a group of laughing nobles clearly hanging on her every word.
The woman’s crimson gown clung to a curvaceous figure, layers of sheer fabric making up the bodice in the Riviairen style.
The delicate gold needlework brought out the bronze tones in her brown skin, her dark eyes traced in golden paint and a matching circlet set in her gray-speckled hair.
The woman spotted Kasira and disentangled herself from the courtiers with a quick word, approaching quickly. Kasira put the dance from her mind and settled back into her persona, her curiosity budding.
“Assistant,” the woman greeted Kasira warmly with a dip of her head. “I am Nyelle Yadora. I had hoped we would get a chance to talk.”
“Did you?” Kasira returned the small bow, mind already turning. Lady Nyelle was one of Allaster’s few allies, which made her a valuable source. “And what is it you hoped to speak about?”
Nyelle offered Kasira her arm. “Why don’t we walk?”
Ah, so it was that sort of chat. Accepting her arm, she allowed Nyelle to lead her from the crowd to a more secluded area of the garden, where great white trellises coated in climbing vines obscured them from view.
Nyelle released her with an evaluating gaze. “You look lovely.”
“As do you,” she returned, and waited. She would not be the one to betray her hand first.
Nyelle smiled as if she knew exactly what Kasira was doing. “I have to say that when I heard of what you had done, I was worried, but in truth, I think you have been good for Allaster.”
First-name basis, Kasira thought. Exactly how close were these two? “I’m not sure he would agree,” she replied. “In fact, I think he would prefer not to deal with me altogether.”
“He would prefer not to deal with anything at all, but here we are.”
At that, Kasira afforded her a smile. “You seem to know him rather well.”
“Better than most, though we haven’t seen much of each other as of late.” She offered a shrug whose nonchalance Kasira didn’t believe for a second. “Does he still drink too much mylak and forget to eat?”
Kasira recognized what Nyelle was doing: She was trying to establish an anchor between them via a shared sense of exasperation with Allaster’s eccentricities.
Through it, she could extract information from Kasira under the guise of casual conversation.
It presented the woman in a new light—not just a source, but a potential threat.
“Lady Nyelle,” Kasira replied evenly, “if you want to know how Allaster is doing, just ask.”
A small smile curved her lips. “Forgive me. I haven’t yet decided whether to take you at your word.”
“At least you’re direct in yours.”
“Sometimes too much, I’ve been told.” Nyelle clasped her hands before her and nodded down the path. “Let’s keep walking.” They took a turn about the outskirts of the garden, looking like nothing more than two women conversing.
“Allaster is … troubled,” Kasira told her after a moment. “And I have a feeling I only know the tip of it. He’s keeping something from me, and it’s weighing on him. To answer your question: No, he doesn’t eat, and yes, he drinks too much mylak.”
Nyelle eyed her curiously. “You’ve shared all of that very freely.”
“I know you aren’t his enemy. I know the look of someone who cares for another.
” She was not above using Nyelle’s own tactics against her.
If Allaster refused to tell Kasira what was happening, and May was too loyal to him to do it herself, then the next best thing was an ally with a vested interest in Allaster succeeding, but removed enough that they might not feel the same personal attachment.
Nyelle made a considering sound and rounded to a stop in front of Kasira. “I have what I came for. I sense you have questions of your own?”
Kasira had clearly passed a test of sorts. Had Nyelle been feeling her out as a threat? She clearly cared about Allaster, and as his only ally in Kalthos, perhaps she was the source of his information on Kasira’s past.
“You asked me how he is,” she began. “Do you know the cause of his distress?”
The noblewoman’s hand strayed to a brooch on her dress—pure gold and carved in the shape of three rising flames: Haidra’s mark. “I wish I did.” Her gaze followed Kasira’s to the brooch, and her fingers curled about it. “You must be wondering why I wear this if I’m a beast sympathizer.”
“I’ve never cared for the term.”
Nyelle laughed lightly. “I like you, Kasira. Tell me, what do you know of the religions of the northern reaches?”
“They are the source of the goddess’s word.
” At least, that was what Revna had always told her, upholding the notion like a banner of honor.
Thane had spoken of it too, with the sort of bitter reverence born of someone who resented their belief.
Despite her mother’s roots in the area, Kasira herself had never visited, her childhood contained to the capital.
“Indeed. But if you travel north, beyond the swamps to the base of the Terasor Mountains, you will find a very different story being told.” She gestured to a nearby bench cocooned by shrubs, and they sat.
“I pray to Haidra every night, but mine is not the goddess these people know. In the northern cities, beasts are seen as sin, the same as here, but they are seen as sins to be appeased, not destroyed.”
Kasira frowned. “Appeased?”
“We make offerings to them, committing good acts to counteract the terrible ones that birthed them.” Nyelle spoke with a fervor that rivaled Vera’s, the sort of conviction that came only from unwavering belief.
“Haidra’s beasts are her children, each creature a piece of her light that breaks off when a sin is committed and returns to her once it has been appeased.
Killing beasts is a mockery of that belief. ”
Kasira tried to wrap her mind around the idea that the capital’s entire religion had false origins. “But how did it get so twisted?”
Nyelle gave her a grim smile. “The world has a way of stripping away what it doesn’t find useful about a thing instead of taking it for what it is.
As Haidra’s light spread south, where the Isherwood swallowed the land, and beast attacks were common, people began to blame the creatures for their misfortunes, a sentiment my ancestors used as a platform to gain power.
In the end, they lost the throne to the Ralks, and now here I am, trying to undo everything they stood for.
But this battle will be lost before it begins if Allaster isn’t prepared to fight. ”
Kasira should have used that moment to plant a seed of doubt. If Nyelle thought Allaster weak, she might withdraw her support from him. It was exactly what Kasira had warned him against when they’d arrived at the party, and it was exactly what Vera would have wanted her to do.
So when instead she found herself saying, “Allaster will protect the Library with his life,” without a shred of doubt, it left her disquieted.
Nyelle bowed her head. “I believe you,” she said and rose. “One of the King’s aides is approaching, and I have a feeling she isn’t here for me. Until we speak again.” She departed as Kasira rose to face the approaching aide.
And came face-to-face with Revna.