Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
HASANNAH
A ndrei carried me into his bedroom and laid me down on his bed. I didn't protest. I’d said nothing on the way home.
Neither had he.
After he'd completed his conversation with Ashlyun to his satisfaction—there would be no war, but plenty of blood—he'd taken me from a silent Constin and refused to let me go the entire trip.
Shaken, I'd laid in his arms, soaking up his heat and dreading what would happen next. Well, to say I’d said nothing was inaccurate. I’d freaked out when he’d first approached the coach. They’d had to talk me into it, and even Mathen looked shaken when I’d begun crying. Andrei sat on the curb holding me, and waited until I finally nodded before climbing into the box shaped cage.
I didn’t have the energy to feel ashamed.
Would Andrei decide I wasn’t worth all the trouble and drama? I'd listened to the conversation, to the negotiations. To the names of the people who would die and Ashlyun's explanations, delivered in so softly cold a voice I understood he planned a heinous death for the ones who forced him into such a position.
What the High Fae called politics wasn't true politics, it was people with too much power dancing around the lines of a battlefield. Deciding who would live, who would die. How much pain and destruction were required in order to heal an insult, so more deaths wouldn’t follow.
Taking me? An acknowledged consort—even if so far Andrei had kept me closeted—of a High Lord?
That was an automatic declaration of war, and could plunge both the Low and High Courts into decades of turmoil.
All that death because I'd wanted to take a walk.
Andrei’s fear, his pain, his rage, crawled inside my head as if those emotions were mine. They were mine. Along with the enveloping relief, and his fury at his own weakness. His careful mental distancing.
I realized I could handle his anger, his contempt, at my mistake. But distance? It was never until you lost something that you realized its importance.
I watched his face after he laid me down and straightened, avoiding my eyes. He was a courteous man, he'd give me this night before he told me to pack my bags and go.
“Stay here,” he said. Two words, no emotion.
I sat up, removed my slippers and folded my legs, waiting. He returned several minutes later, a plate in his hand, and set it on the bed in front of me.
“You only pretended to eat at the party,” he said. “I’m always watching. Except, obviously, when I am not.”
“I'm not hungry.” I glanced up at him and flinched.
He stared at me, his eyes glazed. “Eat. Hasannah.”
I turned my attention to the plate. Assorted berries, thin slices of cheese and cold meat, a mound of fluffy sweet cream and a soft biscuit. My shoulders relaxed. Nothing heavy, and he hadn't overfilled my plate like he normally did, forgetting I wasn't a starving warrior.
I ate as he stood at the end of the bed watching me. He left again and returned with a mug of hot chocolate. Knowing him, he’d slipped some kind of protein supplement into it. When I finished, he took the dishes and left the bedroom.
When he reentered, he pulled a chair up to the end of the bed and sat, crossing his ankle over his knee. He sat in it like a throne.
“We need to talk, Hasannah.”
You weren't supposed to go to bed angry, but in this case, it would be better for me if he slept on it.
We need to talk was usually how Phase Four began. Except this had nothing to do with the Phases. We hadn’t even had disappointed sex yet.
Nothing made sense anymore.
“I'm so tired,” I said. “Can we talk after work tomorrow?”
“You almost died tonight. What do you think?”
He'd never used so controlled, so mild a voice with me. Always there was a thread of some warmth in it, whether anger or amusement or desire.
Now there was nothing.
“What was the advice Lord Ashlyun gave you?” I asked, stalling. “About how to deal with the girl?”
He watched me, and spoke softly. “The advice? He advised, Hasannah, that if I cared for you I should kill you gently. Because the fates that await our human bondeds are often so much more vicious.”
I didn’t move, a vice clamping around my lungs and tightening. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I should allow you to think so as part of your punishment.”
I’d begun to relax a little, but my body went rigid again, my breathing uneven. The pain from earlier lingered in my mind and now that I’d experienced exactly what a Fae could do. . .
His eyes hadn't changed, still the same glazed look I couldn’t classify. Coupled with the mild, mild tone and his motionless posture, I feared what it meant.
He wouldn't kill me, no.
But there were worse things. So many worse things.
He didn’t have to be with me. I could remain his official consort and be put in a box somewhere out of the way.
“If you're going to punish me,” I said, “I’d rather you got it over with.”
I wouldn't argue over his right to punish me. This was Casakraine.
“You have clearly never been punished, if you believe it will be easy or quick.”
I wrapped my hands in my dress. I'd been a fool. I’d thought the rules would never apply to me. I had never been the kind to seek out trouble or act out. I'd assumed I would dance, make a few select friends, live my life, and the only attention and drama I'd entertain would be on the stage, basking in the applause and adoration of a crowd after I took my final bow.
I hadn’t thought Andrei was cruel before this. But this emotionless, delicate torture was like a barbed whip.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Are you? Convenient.”
I gave up, staring at the gold comforter as a single tear fell down my cheek, followed by another.
Andrei inhaled, burst out of the chair and stalked to the door, opened and slammed it behind him. It rattled.
I shuddered, swiping at my face as I heard muffled male voices.
“She's weeping!” Andrei snarled, from about halfway down the hall. “She has no right! How am I supposed to do what I must when she’s weeping ?”
“Did you expect backflips, faeling? Go. . .look over the evening gown designs. I’ll handle Anah.”
Constin opened the bedroom door and shut it behind him. The warrior clucked and approached, kneeling at the side of the bed. “None of that, darling. It's not fair.”
I hadn’t liked Constin much at first. He was a hard man, and could be cold and unflinching. But he was also the den mother of the house, the only one who could force Andrei to back down and give me space. He wouldn’t disobey a direct order, but he walked circles around one if he disagreed, and lately those circles were the only thing keeping me sane from Andrei’s obsessive micro-managing.
“I don't understand,” I said.
Sardonic amusement warmed his voice. “He has no defense against your tears, but it's his duty to discipline you. If you don't allow it now, Anah, it will fester.”
I looked up, angry. “You want me to consent to being punished? What’s the punishment? A beating?”
Constin jerked his head back as if slapped. “Is that what you think of us?”
“How should I think? I'm an adult woman and you've all basically stolen me, rearranged my life, and now for the infraction of taking a late-night walk to clear my head, I'm supposed to accept being punished—after enduring torture. This isn’t a mafia romance, Constin. ”
His silence was mostly mild confusion. “You knew the rules and risks when you came to Casakraine, Hasannah. This is not Earth. I. . .don’t know what a mafia romance is, but I’ll look it up.”
“I know it's not Earth!” I stopped, took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “I know it's not Earth. But I don't want to live like this.”
Constin regarded me steadily. “You don't want to dance for the Sahakian company? You don't want to rest every night in the arms of a male who adores you? Who would kill for you, who would die for you? And once you allow him into your bed, will have you screaming his name as often as you want, as long as you want, for the rest of your lives? You don't want to be protected, adored, spoiled, provided for? You don't want a safe place to develop your talent?”
“Except it's not safe, is it?”
His gray eyes sharpened to twin blades. “All right then, darling. I'm going to slip the gloves off a bit. You are, as you say, an adult. Nowhere is fucking safe, Hasannah. I don't know what fairy circle you’re frolicking in—it must be a wild high—but remind me what the sexual assault and murder rates are for women in America? Oh, and let’s add in the prosecution rates while we’re at it, in case you want to whine about how the High Fae get away with anything they want. We endure enough of that shit from the Low Fae. All they do is fucking bitch.”
I stared at him, a little taken aback.
Constin gave a feral smile. He was really too pretty to smile like that.
“The High Lords are predators. They're bullies. Most of them have the conscience of a natural disaster. But this sounds like the average human man, doesn't it? And most of those don't know where to find a clit, much less how to lick it, so you don't even have that to compensate you. Some mortals would prefer to cut it off so they needn’t be bothered.”
I cleared my throat.
There was nothing I could say.
It was true.
Constin continued watching me, waited until he was certain I still had nothing to say, then continued.
“Nothing is ever perfect. But here, with Andrei. . .with us. . .we'll make it as perfect for you as we can. There are just a few little rules needed to make it work. The most important rule is you don't go anywhere without your guards.” He bared his teeth at me. “Surely that's not too difficult to acquiesce to?”
“No.” I lowered my gaze to the bedspread, frowning. “You don’t have to sound so reasonable. What are the other rules?”
“Let's perfect one at a time, since your ability to focus on anything but dance is lacking. That's the most important rule for the immediate future anyway. Do you agree to this rule?”
“Yes. I won’t slip away again.” It couldn’t be any worse than being a celebrity, or British royalty.
“Good girl.”
I hesitated. “So Andrei isn’t going to break up with me?”
He stared.
“I just thought—I caused quite a bit of. . .trouble. . .tonight. It seemed like maybe his patience is. . .” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t blame him.”
Constin shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m reminding myself you haven’t been among us that long. Anah, he is never going to let you go. You have to internalize that. You’re still making decisions thinking there’s a future that doesn’t include him.”
I shrugged. “I’m used to walking away. To being walked away from. This isn’t the first time I’ve caused a man trouble. Just not in quite this fashion.”
He ran a hand over his face, and stood.
“Right. Back to the aforementioned trouble, because I really don’t think anything is going to get through your denial tonight.” Constin paused. “I’m supposed to tell you not to cry, but for your sake, I would spill a few more tears when Andrei returns, and look extra fragile. Use your breasts—they’re effective weapons, and if I had a set. . .well. He would never win an argument again.”
I pursed my lips against a smile. “You have other weapons, Constin.”
“Yes, I do. And when you’re ready, I’ll show you my weapons.” He sighed. “He is very, very angry, my darling. You will have bad dreams tonight, but we’re going to have nightmares because we know what could have happened to you, and your imagination is clearly lacking.”
Along with my sense, was the silent implication.
Constin walked to the door and paused, laying a fist on the lintel as if he needed the support.
“You would have died after a time and found peace—Lord Issahelle would not have allowed him to negotiate. But we would have lived with your destruction for the rest of our lives. Lived with the memory of your remains—what little was left of them—and lived with our failure. This kind of failure is the most frequent reason why the High Lords begin to go mad. Oh, and you owe Mathen a fucking apology. We’re going to discuss that compulsion shit of yours.”
He gave me a final, piercing look then left the bedroom.
At least he didn’t slam the door.