Chapter Twenty-Four
Karvek twisted slightly in the chair, giving her more space but angling his body toward hers. Even with her sitting on the arm of his chair, he was still a bit taller than her.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking out at the scene before them. Twirling figures draped in silks, roiling melodies, and officers lounging around the room.
She wasn’t dressed half as finely or revealingly as the dancers. She wore her usual undershirt and leggings, and she had put on one of her knee-length dresses. No one had warned her what to expect, but at least she was wearing clean clothes. She should have tried harder.
“They are wonderful dancers.” She swallowed, taking the moment to look more closely. “Their dresses—they are fire-imbued, aren’t they?” She could feel her heart race again.
She knew little of fire-forgings, only that they let a person channel passion and emotion into their craft in a way that amplified the emotions of those witnessing or using the fire-imbued item.
Her family’s stories frequently talked of fire-forged horn-blowers that brought confidence and adrenaline to the surface, readying them for difficult battles.
The Guardians of Klees hadn’t had a horn-blower since the dakii came, though.
She faintly remembered a fire-forged performer passing through Klees, but Iryana hadn’t been old enough to attend.
She’d heard of fire-forgings that held fire, except they didn’t need a candle or oil to burn.
Her cousin Tonhald’s wife was fire-forged, but she used hers to make cold-resistant clothing for the clan to help them through winter, and Iryana had never been close enough with Teshya to ask about her life before the village.
“Indeed,” he confirmed. “The embroidery was done with a fire-forged needle, allowing certain emotions of the wearer and beholders to be brought to the surface. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.” It certainly explained the warm feeling inside her. It was subtle.
Karvek tilted his head toward hers while they watched the dancers. “Fire-forged magic is fascinating. It’s a shame there are no fire wells anywhere near here, or we may have ended up with more fire-forged. Can you imagine witnessing a true fire-forged performance?”
“Is this not that?”
He chuckled. “This is but fire-imbued magic.
I have heard that the wail of a fire-forged violin can bring a person to their knees weeping, and a painter with forged brushes can feed enough joy into a painting to make any who view it feel true bliss.
There are paintings in this estate of dancers wearing forged jewelry, like chains of brilliant rubies.
“I was sixteen when the dakii came, old enough to get into some trouble first.” He winked at her, and Iryana blinked in surprise.
“I remember going to a circus where one performer had fire-forged rings she tossed into the air and danced with. It was a circus, of course, so the forgings were to feed comedy, and I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. ”
There was a wistful look in his eyes that she couldn’t explain. She would never claim to understand Karvek that well, but she was surprised by his love of the fire-forged magic. Of something that affected him beyond his control. When he seemed like a man who wanted nothing more than control.
Still, the conversation seemed a good choice to postpone whatever he had brought her for.
“Do the dresses affect the dancers as they do us?” she asked.
“Even more so. Something imbued with fire magic will affect the wearer or user to a greater degree than those witnessing it. A fire-forging itself though, is reversed. The effect on the person who forged it is small, but it will affect everyone else to an incredible degree.”
Though focused on Karvek, she saw one of the courtesans in the corner of her eye start peeling her dress off. Iryana’s eyes flicked toward the others, and there was far more skin revealed than before. Like they were getting carried away with the magic.
“Does their magic affect other fire-forged?” she asked quickly, picking a place on the wall to the side to stare at. Anything to keep him talking.
“A bit.” Karvek nodded, considering her. “They are less affected by the magic of all fire forgings, though.”
“Where did the dresses come from?” Iryana looked at him, meeting those pale blue eyes.
She was feeling warm, and not because of the dancers. Focus, she reminded herself, keeping her eyes solely trained on Karvek. He seemed aware of what she was doing but amused by it.
“Whoever resided in Myura River before us abandoned it in a hurry. There were several imbued treasures to be found when we moved in.”
“How fortunate, then.” Iryana shifted uncomfortably, wondering how much her family had left behind in Klees.
Karvek leaned back against the chair, watching the others in the room. Iryana didn’t have much of a choice but to do the same, unless she wanted to just awkwardly stare at his profile.
The courtesans dancing swapped out with some of the mingling ones, a man now up there dancing with a young woman whose hair was pale as daisies.
Instead of dancing apart like those before, they danced together.
His hands trailing over her body, hers over his.
They pressed together as they moved, slowly pulling at clothing.
They were smiling and laughing, clearly seeming to enjoy themselves.
The officers seemed glued to the performance, the other courtesans making their rounds around the room to see who wanted their attention. Other than a few lingering glances, they didn’t come anywhere near Karvek, which seemed strange given it was his gathering.
Unless that was her purpose. Iryana looked at him again, swallowing down the panic.
No one seemed to be there against their will, but that didn’t mean they really had much of a choice when their general invited them.
Still, it brought to mind something from life before the beasts came.
People who would follow the military around to where they were stationed, looking for soldiers to warm their beds. Perhaps it was like that?
Karvek’s eyes drifted over to her occasionally, not in a secretive manner, but in an appraising sort of way. Like he was looking for something. He didn’t reach for her, like the other officers did with the courtesans, their fingers twirling and tugging at the flowing silk.
She eventually relaxed again, as much as she could in such a gathering at least.
Iryana had been raised without the propriety of much of the ketsan, and she had gotten used to seeing the soldiers in the hall at night.
There was also not a lot of privacy in the barracks—in the fort in general—so people seemed far less worried about others watching them.
Still, in the hall she wasn’t expected to watch.
Darish pulled one woman into his lap, his shirt somewhere on the floor while the courtesan kissed down his chest. Her lips traced the magic-forged tattoos decorating his bulging muscles. Iryana could only see the woman’s bare back and her dress pooled around her waist.
Iryana realized that she and Karvek were now the only two fully dressed.
Despite the countless hours she had spent alone with Karvek, she knew nothing about this side of him. Hadn’t even known there was this side of him. She struggled to figure out what to expect, what he would expect.
“Do you—” she hesitated, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer, but she had to say something. Her skin was crawling. “Do you, uh, prefer to watch?”
He chuckled. “No, this isn’t for me. It keeps my officers happy.” He raised a sharply arched brow as if to ask if it would keep her happy, too.
“Why don’t you take part then?”
“My tastes aren’t particularly conducive to a group atmosphere. I like to control… everything.”
She swallowed. She’d known this about him, his desire for dominance. Hadn’t thought about it in this context though. Images of Karvek and the control he’d prefer flashed through her mind, and Iryana fought for a clear head.
Everywhere she looked was skin. The room reeked of sex, moans rumbling under the sensual melody of the music.
Would he ask her to join him afterwards? Was she willing to say yes if it got her closer to the well? Could she stomach it? He was a murderer; she’d seen him covered in blood. She wasn’t sure if she could pretend well enough to get past that.
She was almost willing to get up and dance herself, if just to give herself something to do. Thankfully, he changed the subject.
“You did well in Midmarket, Iryana.” He smiled at her, eyes lingering more than usual. “You were very helpful.”
The memory of Karvek kneeling in blood, his blade stabbing at the man, came to her mind like a flash of lightning. She fought to keep her face neutral. Play the game, she pleaded with herself.
“I want to find my place here.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that.”
“I wish it didn’t take so long to be initiated,” she hedged. “To feel like I really belong.”
“Oh?”
Before she could answer, a thud echoed around the walls as a wild-eyed soldier charged into the room. A few of the courtesans gasped, but the officers didn’t seem to be paying attention to the intrusion.
“What is it, Sheshar?” Karvek asked calmly.
“Why was the King Commander’s representative here?
My captain refused to give me an answer, so I’ve come to you for one.
You promised us we were outside his control.
” The man sneered. “I’ve heard about your time with his daughter, but I never thought you’d want to crawl into bed with the rest of them too. ”
Iryana’s interest piqued at that.
“Don’t bore us,” Karvek ordered harshly, leaning forward. “Why are you here?”
Sheshar straightened. “You made a lot of promises to convince us to come here, to join you. Were they all lies? Tricks? I’m here to demand you answer to them, General.”
Now the room stilled.