Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Was this the daughter that Sheshar had spoken of before Karvek silenced him? She seemed to be pointedly ignoring Karvek.
“This is Iryana, once of the Klees Guardians but now of the 18th.” Karvek pulled her slightly closer, hand curving over the side of her hip.
“How interesting.” He looked at her carefully, then back to Karvek. “I haven’t seen a fire-imbued dress like that in over a decade. I would offer to buy it off you, but it does look like it was made for your friend.”
“Perhaps we can talk later,” Karvek mused. “But it looks like there is competition for your attention, so I will leave you to it.”
The group of women stepped closer as Karvek led Iryana away.
Iryana was stiff as they walked away, Karvek chuckling softly before purring, “Do not worry, my little guardian. We spoke of the dress, not of you. I said I take care of what’s mine, did I not?”
She shivered slightly, nodding.
Karvek started to lead her around the room, his hand splayed across the side of her lower back. She didn’t doubt that he wanted her to feel exposed, under his control, but it didn’t seem to be his primary motivation.
When eyes slid toward them, they fell right off Karvek and onto her. She could feel eyes on her, on her dress, on her body. No one could pay any attention to Karvek with her at his side, and he was far too clever for it to be unintentional.
He wanted their eyes on her instead.
Karvek stopped, turning to watch as a few dancers and acrobats began to perform around the center table, moving gracefully and sensually to the lull of the harp.
But his eyes quickly fell on her, searing, until she couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel them.
She was getting used to the way people looked at her in the fire-imbued dress.
There was always a sign of its effect on them.
Perhaps their lips would part, a quick gasp being stifled.
Shifting in their seat. Pupils dilating.
Karvek’s gaze didn’t seem too different from usual; it was always so intense.
It was like his control over himself was so strong that not even a fire-imbued dress could break it.
“I know you want to join the 18th,” Karvek said, causing Iryana to suck in a breath.
“Yes,” she breathed, trying to remain neutral.
“Are you prepared to be forged?”
Her heart thundered, a fuzziness seeping into her brain. “Yes, if you believe I am ready.”
He smiled slightly. “Then it’s time for you to prove yourself.”
Iryana had to fight to calm her nerves, her excitement. This was it. But if what she’d already done hadn’t proved herself, what would he ask of her now?
Karvek led her around the room, unsurprisingly but unnervingly offering no further explanation.
The furthest edges of the room were full of exposed flesh and slow, carnal movement, but that wasn’t where Karvek directed her attention.
“The older woman at the table of young soldiers.” Her eyes found the woman he mentioned.
“General Vholekya. Though she was a Countess, not an officer, before the dakii came. She has renamed her division the Queen’s Brigade, guarding the capital city and those inside like we do to the surrounding settlements. ”
The general held herself almost too straight, staring at her neighbors with a haughty look of superiority. When she glanced over at the King Commander, it looked as if she was humoring him.
“Are there truly still people alive in the capital?”
“So she claims.” Karvek didn’t seem happy about the idea.
The capital city was at the mouth of the main network of rivers that flowed through Istri, the Yuresh led to it as well.
She’d been taught that not only was its location strategic for trade, but it was the only place in Istri with wells of all five magics nearby.
Karvek continued, barely giving her thoughts a chance to keep up. “Her territory is almost as large as Ivan’s, with at least three metal wells. But far to the north, if my sources are to be believed.”
“If she guards the capital city, does she not still recognize the queen’s authority?” It had been a decade since Iryana had heard news of the royal family that had once ruled Istri.
“Perhaps, but she has submitted to the King Commander all the same. Queen or not, the capital city cannot be in a very strong position, isolated as they are.”
Iryana could not imagine ruling a kingdom, only to have dakii descend and reduce that territory to just the very walls one lived within. Was such a ruler still a queen?
She had more questions, but Karvek was already pulling her ahead.
“Sitting at that table there, the redheaded woman and the man with the blue jacket,” Karvek aimed her gaze.
“They are Nenad and Jesha, acting generals of the North River and South River brigades. They are married now, their fathers mostly putting them in charge since their betrothal to represent a new, united generation.”
There was hunger in Karvek’s eyes, and Iryana wondered if he saw it as a challenge, two local brigades teaming up to be stronger together.
She watched them closely. Nenad was plain looking, but Jesha was striking with strawberry hair and a small, pointed chin.
They both seemed reserved, serious, but when they talked to each other, they shared intimate smiles.
Their marriage might have been political, but Iryana suspected there was fondness between them.
“Those brigades are to the immediate south of the 18th’s territory, right?”
“Yes, but despite their small territories, they have more metal wells than most.”
She had to refrain herself from asking about the 18th’s wells.
They continued around the room in much the same way. Karvek pointed out the generals and leaders of the other brigades, anyone of importance. He shared little details about their strengths and advantages, but they talked to no one. Iryana tried to take it all in.
To those watching, they probably appeared a fond couple, occupied with each other. Perhaps even whispering sweet nothings. That is, if they could see past the allure of Iryana and her dress.
Iryana couldn’t help meeting some of the lingering gazes though, the burning in her body enough motivation to offer a few smiles or winks. Anything to further distract them, as Karvek seemed to want.
When they made it fully around the room, they stopped. Karvek lowered himself down into a comfortable-looking couch with gold upholstery near the performances, but he didn’t pull her down next to him like she expected.
“Take a few turns around the room, Iryana.” His gaze was intense, purposeful. “Then come back and join me.”
Her mind snapped to attention. The last time he’d sent her away… but she pushed that thought away and focused. Her best guess was that this had something to do with picking up patterns, like he’d used her for before.
Steadying herself, Iryana offered him a nod before heading back into the party. An attendant handed her a glass of golden wine, and she accepted it with a smile. Anything to help blend in.
She adopted the same poised grace she’d seen in the performing courtesans; shoulders loose, steps deliberate. She let her face relax into something peaceful, though her mind was as focused as it had ever been.
Without an idea of what to look for, she took note of everything.
A bejeweled woman sat next to her escort, everything about the way she smiled and laughed charismatic and easy.
But she seemed to steel herself every time she made eye contact with someone new.
Nerves, Iryana decided. And her escort, a major based on the belt around his waist, stayed close to her.
His hand lingered on the small of her back, and it seemed protective and even affectionate.
But when another man came near, he pulled her closer, grip tightening.
A possessive man then. Likely not interesting unless Karvek wanted a way to upset him.
The harpist missed a note, and while no one else seemed to react, it called to Iryana as she buzzed with focus.
The musician was playing easily again, perhaps a bit more tentatively, but her eyes flicked a few times across the room.
A flash of fear in those eyes. Iryana tracked the gaze, finding two of the King Commander’s guards.
The harpist feared them. But Karvek likely wouldn’t care about it.
Lifting her glass to her lips, Iryana exchanged a commiserating smile with a finely dressed man, most of his chest exposed. His eyes seemed to say, Ah, the things we do. But at least we look fabulous.
Then near one of the side walls, mostly out of sight, Iryana recognized a captain in half-armor. She wasn’t from the 18th, the sigil on the uniform different, but when Iryana had passed her before with Karvek, this captain’s jaw had clenched.
Iryana made sure to pass near the captain and noted that her jaw clenched again.
Her hand didn’t twitch as if she was thinking of forming a weapon, but disdain was clear on her face.
The official she guarded smiled too smoothly at her when Iryana walked by.
Iryana matched it with a sharp one of her own.
They would likely stab Karvek in the back given half the chance, she thought. Something to tuck away for later.
Two guards, who had never once scanned the room, just stared at the same couple of soldiers. They were General Vholekya’s men, she thought. From the Queen’s Brigade. There to spy, not guard anyone.
By the time she neared the performers again, she’d counted four whispered arguments that had stopped the moment she’d gotten close. Noted a handful of soldiers that kept glancing at Karvek and those that seemed to be waiting for the King Commander’s attention.
She wished she knew what Karvek wanted from her.
A female sergeant walked by, winking at Iryana and Iryana responded with a tip of her glass and a small smile.