Chapter 37 Kasira
KASIRA
KASIRA’S OLD MALIK PARTNER WAS BEDECKED IN KALISH ROYAL blues, the golden crossed swords stitched atop her breast. Her face looked healthier, fuller, and her brand had been tattooed over by the same symbol as on her clothes—a royal pardon.
“You made a deal with the King,” Kasira said.
The smile that cut across Revna’s face made Kasira’s skin crawl. “It seems we’re both in the habit of bargaining with royalty.”
Already Kasira’s mind was seeking an escape.
She could easily avoid Revna and return to the Library unimpeded, but she didn’t know what she would be running from.
Had Revna approached her independently or as a messenger of the King?
She was one of the few people who knew Vera and the Paratal had visited their Malik camp before Kasira left, and it sounded very much like she knew exactly what that knowledge was worth.
“What do you want?” Kasira asked.
Revna’s face twisted into a snarl. “I want my life back! The one you took from me.”
“I never meant—”
A sharp laugh cut her off. “Do you think I care what you meant to do, Kas? You knew how important my position was to me, to my family. My father—” She broke off, her eyes filling with a distant pain. “Everything that happened to me is your fault. All so you could go play at having magic.”
“The Library isn’t what you think, Rev,” Kasira insisted. “Magic, beasts, none of it.”
It was the wrong thing to say—she knew it even as the words left her lips. But it was also the truth, and some part of her could not lie to Revna any longer. That was twice now that her instincts had failed her. What sort of con artist refused to lie?
“You think I’ll believe a word you say?” Revna hissed. “Don’t forget I know exactly where you come from, Kasira. You’re not a mage. You’re a thief and a liar and a fraud. I should never have shielded you. You deserved every word of their judgement.”
Kasira didn’t defend herself. It didn’t matter what Revna thought of her.
Didn’t matter what anyone thought. Caring about that was a luxury for people who stayed.
People who built relationships with others to make them last, not who crafted them to fit a story, a goal.
If she wanted to survive, if she wanted her life back, she couldn’t afford to care.
So then why did Revna’s words needle at her?
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling a sharp twinge of emotion in her chest. “I truly am.”
“Your apology is too late.”
Kasira’s blood chilled the same way it once had before a beast. “What did you do?”
Revna swept a hand toward the castle. “The King wants to see you.”
In that moment, Kasira understood. This was how Revna had gotten her pardon: She had exchanged it for the knowledge that Vera had visited Kasira at their camp.
Vera’s story that Kasira was a random criminal who had infiltrated the Library of her own accord wouldn’t stand up to the revelation that she and Vera not only knew each other, but had met directly prior to Kasira’s arrival at Amorlin.
The King knew his cousin was up to something. The boy Kasira had spared in Ayador had died for nothing.
Calm down, she told herself. The King can’t touch you. As Assistant Librarian, she had diplomatic immunity. The King would have to call the Conclave to have her tried, and if he intended to do that, he wouldn’t waste time speaking with her first. It was with that certainty that she followed Revna.
The two guards at the castle doors didn’t stop them or even check Kasira for weapons, which she supposed was a benefit of her position.
Revna led her through a low-ceiled entrance hall to the first room on their left.
The windows overlooking the garden had been curtained shut, and the King sat on one of two opposing couches with a glass of wine in hand.
King Carthur gestured for her to sit. “Assistant, good of you to join me.”
“Your Majesty.” She bowed, realizing now that when he’d said he hoped to speak to her later, he was setting the stage for this encounter. If anyone discovered them meeting, the excuse for why was already in place.
She sat, and Revna took up position at the King’s back, arms folded behind her. A messenger and a guard then. How much of herself had she bargained away to fix what Kasira had broken?
Whatever she had to, Kasira thought.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Assistant,” the King said. “It’s come to my attention that you’re working for my cousin.”
When Kasira didn’t respond, the King gave her an expectant look. She raised her brow, seeking a little of Allaster’s imperiousness. She had power here—if she could figure out how to use it. “Was there a question in there, Your Majesty?”
His lips twitched. “What is the nature of your relationship with Vera Helsen?”
“Nonexistent.” She made a point of not looking at Revna.
“Lying to me, however adeptly, will not go well for you.”
He is not the fool his courtiers have made him out to be, Kasira thought as she weighed her options.
She had a feeling the King was playing a game of his own: By acting the mark, people spoke more freely around him, thinking he wasn’t a threat.
They didn’t realize that he was aware of every move they made.
King Carthur set aside his drink. “I have no great love for my cousin, and I know she wants more power. She has been that way since we were children. Always seeking another foothold above the last. There is only so much higher she can ascend before she becomes a problem for me.”
“She’s waiting for you to reveal what you have on her, Your Majesty,” Revna said when Kasira remained silent. “She’ll keep letting you talk until you do.”
Genuine surprise flitted across Kasira’s face.
She hadn’t realized Revna had paid that much attention to her behavior at camp, hadn’t realized how much her Malik partner knew her.
Kasira had thought of her time in the Malikinar as temporary, a means to an end, but it had been much more than that to Revna.
The King grimaced. “Very well. I know that my cousin and Paratal Helvarin visited your battalion for the sole purpose of meeting with you. Shortly thereafter, you deserted the Malikinar, apparently to take Eirlana Corynth’s position as Assistant Librarian.
I believe those two events to be connected, and any attempt you make to tell me otherwise, I will consider a lie. ”
The King was building up to something, illustrating her precarious position before revealing what he wanted, but she would not divulge the truth about Vera until she understood the full implications of her situation.
“Your cousin made me an offer, but I declined it,” she replied, stalling for time. “She wanted me to take Eirlana’s place at Amorlin as her spy. I decided to take it for myself instead. Which is why she exposed me once she found out.”
The King rose to pace along the curtained windows. “Did she tell you what she wanted you to discover at Amorlin?”
“She did not.”
“I see.” He paused, pulling back a curtain to peer out into the garden beyond. “I would be careful aligning yourself too closely with her. My cousin thinks she’s smarter than she is.”
“In my experience, Your Majesty, most people do.”
A crooked smile bloomed on the King’s lips. “I’d like to offer you a bargain of my own.”
Kasira’s gaze flitted to Revna, seeking some indication of where this was heading, but the woman only stared back at her with the icy stillness of a predator. However things went with the King, Revna would be a problem.
“If the rumors are to be believed,” King Carthur continued, “my cousin is attempting to gather enough evidence against the Librarian to call the Conclave. I don’t care who reigns over Amorlin and supporting the Conclave would help balance out this Yadora marriage business with many of my courtiers.
But I’m not in the habit of letting my cousin’s plans come to fruition, and knowing her, she did not reach this point in a, shall we say, appropriate manner. ”
He faced Kasira, bright eyes calculating. “I would like you to bring me incontrovertible proof of her illicit activities.”
Kasira kept her expression impassive, even as her thoughts warred.
The King would let the Conclave proceed and take the credit for it himself.
Either way, the Library lost. Either way, she lost the Library.
With Vera, at least she had the certainty of her safety.
Or as certain as she could be in a game where she held so little power.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, however I got here, I am still the Assistant Librarian of Amorlin, not a royal’s spy.” She stood to leave.
“If you refuse, I will tell the Librarian of your meeting with my cousin.”
Kasira stilled, and that was all it took for a smile to grace the King’s lips.
“I thought you might not like that. I have a feeling your business with Vera goes deeper than what you’ve claimed, but even if it doesn’t, I can’t imagine you want to give up your position, and I know for a fact Allaster St. Archer isn’t the forgiving sort. ”
Kasira knew that too. She was still trying to get Allaster to move past Vera’s revelation. Their trust was tenuous at best right now—it wouldn’t survive this too.
Revna was looking at her strangely now, as if she saw something she didn’t understand. Unsure of what her expression had betrayed, Kasira molded her face back into a blank mask.
“If I do this, I want your word that you won’t pursue the Conclave,” Kasira said carefully. “And I want my criminal record expunged and enough coin to start a new life.” The same things Vera had promised her.
The King regarded her coolly. “High demands from a woman without any bargaining power.”
“You need me to get that proof,” she countered. “If you expose me to Allaster, I won’t be able to do that.”
“Indeed.” The King returned to his couch and glass of wine. “I will give you one of those things, Assistant. You may go.”
Kasira snapped her fingers, appearing in the courtyard.
Her heart beat in time with her racing thoughts, searching for a solution that didn’t end with her in a prison cell.
If she told the King the truth, he would put a stop to Vera’s plans, and her bargain with the Ambassador would be void.
Vera would reveal her to Allaster, and she’d lose her position as Assistant.
She would lose him. She’d have no choice but to run, her life nothing but a series of escapes once more.
She could use her one request of the King to ask for immunity, but where she believed that Vera would likely keep her word, she did not think the same of the King.
He wanted to eliminate the threat against him, and Kasira was a part of that.
Vera might be safe from his hand, but the pawns in her service would not be.
“You look like Iylis when someone breaks one of his cups.”
She spun at Allaster’s voice. Somewhere between leaving her and now, he must have found several refills of wine. His cheeks had a light flush to them, and the top button of his coat had been undone, revealing the long column of his throat.
“Why do you always seem to lose a button every time you drink?” she deflected.
He looked from the empty flute in his hand to the offending button. “I ran into Lady Nyelle.”
“What does she—oh.” It occurred to Kasira, not for the first time, that Allaster was much older than he looked. He’d had an entire lifetime before meeting her. Still—Nyelle?
“You and Lady Nyelle?” she asked. “But I thought—Mora.”
A pained look crossed his face. “I loved Mora, but not in that way. I think May always had more of a romantic interest in her than anyone else, but she soon met Taya.”
“You’re much more talkative when you’re drunk.”
“I am not drunk.”
Ever so gently, she pressed a finger into his chest. Allaster swayed, then shifted back a step to keep his balance. Scowling, he seized her hand and pulled her toward the soulice door. She let him, trying to keep her smile from crumbling as she thought of the choice before her.
More than one set of eyes followed them through the garden, whispers trailing like cloaks in their wake. Allaster seemed as aware of them as she was, his shoulders rising closer and closer to his ears as he bristled.
“Do you need something?” he finally snapped at a particularly obvious set of gawkers, and there was something in the way he said it, about how his hand tightened on hers, that left her feeling untethered.
When had that defensive ire of his gone from being directed at her to being pointed outward around them both?
Allaster wrenched open the soulice door and released her hand as he crossed through. She followed, letting the door swing shut behind her. They had barely entered the portal room before he cast her one last, inscrutable look and vanished.
In the space his absence revealed, something caught her eye.
A silver bracelet with a crescent moon charm rested just at the edge of the hallway to the infirmary, as though someone had dropped it on their way through.
Except May would never be so careless with it, and—Kasira stopped, the stark sight of blood on the bracelet’s edge turning her cold.
She dove into the magic, seeking her friend’s energy, but found nothing.
May was gone.