Chapter 35
Casimir
The rasp of saws and hiss of sandpaper travels through the wide forest clearing. I could barely make out the sounds of human work when I was approaching this spot, thanks to a combination of magical effects created by a few different gifts working together, but now it drifts around me in an almost comforting rhythm.
Almost, because despite the care the workers are obviously taking, a sense of urgency permeates the air. Everything needs to be finished within the next day if we’re going to have any hope of superseding Lothar’s trials.
This is our last chance. No matter what doubts about the Order of the Wild we’ve sown, no matter what promises Petra has made, if the scourge sorcerers can set her up to look like a failure of a ruler in a public spectacle, I don’t know how she’d ever win over the country.
If she’d even survive the day.
My heart thuds along at a faster rhythm than the work around me. I can’t quite settle it even with all my calming techniques brought to bear.
I pause here and there to consider the blueprints laid out on the forest floor and the corresponding slabs of wood the workers Baron Cyris assembled are cutting, but physical building isn’t exactly my area of expertise. I’m here mainly to evaluate the emotional impact of the finished apparatus.
The pieces already shaped and smoothed lie in careful rows across the ground at the other end of the clearing. The pale wood gleams in the late afternoon sun.
We’d have some trouble explaining what we’re up to if any members of the Order stumbled on this work site. The large, irregular pieces with their knobs and indents to allow them to fit together securely don’t look like any kind of furniture a noble would be commissioning.
But that’s why the baron sent the craftspeople off to work in the woods beyond his estate rather than in plain view on his grounds. The fact that it shortens the distance I needed to travel to stop by and make my assessment is a small but welcome side benefit.
The figures at this end of the clearing are manipulating the wood in a very different way. They’re mostly dedicats to Creaden with gifts related to the godlen’s knack for construction, although a few others have stepped up to lend talents that can be honed to our needs.
At a bark of an order from the head foreman, several of the workers spring into action. Their faces harden into masks of concentration as their hands rise to help direct their magic.
Pieces of wood lift from the ground and whirl toward each other. Interlocking joints snap together. Edges thump against one another. The slabs climb up above our heads?—
A few of the boards smack into each other at the wrong angle. One wobbles and strikes another below. A worker grunts, another shuddering as he tries to maintain control, but it isn’t enough.
The wooden pieces creak and strain, and the foreman shouts for them to be lowered. “We’re not getting anywhere if you break them!”
The workers guide the partly constructed tower to the ground and let it tumble apart with a heavy patter against the uneven ground.
The foreman sighs. “Where did it go wrong this time? We need to be able to move fast, but we do actually have to build the thing properly.”
I hold up my hand as I approach them. “Can we take a break from using gifts and put it together manually? I know it’ll be slower, but I’d like to take a look at how the full structure is coming together. And I’d imagine everyone could use a chance to rest their minds.”
The foreman’s mouth tightens, but he nods. I catch hints of relief in the exhaled breaths and shifting bodies of his underlings.
It does take longer for them to fit the slabs together when they’re building by hand, and after some time, they have to clamber up the base of the tower to continue. But the wood workers have gotten quite a bit done already. While there are more pieces to come, the tower already rises about twice my height.
I study it, noting the impressions it stirs in me, and glance around at the rest of the yard. “This is a section of the obstacle course, isn’t it? How are the moving parts coming together? Do we have any of the other challenges ready to go?”
One of the Creaden dedicats motions to me with a wave of her hand. “A bunch of it is over here. And the bits of the puzzle boxes are almost finished too.”
With a couple of her fellow workers, she demonstrates how a few of the obstacles in the sequence will operate. Others fit together what they have so far of what they called the puzzle box. I ask one of them to step inside the huge cube so I can picture what it’ll be like in action.
The foreman comes up beside me. “What do you think?” he asks gruffly.
He’s braced for criticism but craving approval.
I nod slowly. “I think we’re on the right track. We’re going to want to add as much color as we can in the time we have, spark more feelings with that. And I’d recommend adding metal pieces to the wheel rather than having the teeth be wood—the shine catching the sun will have even more impact.”
The foreman frowns. “We don’t want the queen getting hurt.”
I glance at him, unable to stop my smile from tightening. Doesn’t he realize how much harm we’ll all be risking when we pull this immense gambit together?
“The people need to see she’s taking real risks,” I remind him. “She wants to prove every trait she believes makes a good ruler, and that includes bravery and the willingness to face danger on behalf of her country.”
He lets out a faint huff, but he doesn’t argue the point. Instead, he calls out to one of the workers to bring the materials from a storeroom and another to summon a couple of Inganne dedicats from the estate who have a way with paint.
I dip my head in thanks. “Let me know when the artists get here. I’ll consult with them on what color scheme would be most effective for each part.”
The trials we’re going to set up don’t need to just show off Petra’s prowess, both physical and mental. They need to stir the hopes and hungers of her audience. Create a story of how fiercely this woman will fight for their happiness.
Is it going to be enough?
After seeing how easily Lothar has been able to sway the people of Silana in his favor, I don’t know.
He certainly seems to believe it won’t. He must know by now of the pamphlets we distributed in Florian, promising that Princess Petra would be hosting her trials in the coming days, but the announcements in the nearby towns all still place Lothar’s on the day of Creadenala.
Whether because he can’t prepare it in time or because he doesn’t want to appear uncertain, he hasn’t moved his spectacle forward. He doesn’t think we could truly challenge him.
And he could be right. I’m not sure how we’re going to ensure Petra makes it through our trials without the scourge sorcerers finding a way to strike her down.
Those uncertainties are still twisted inside me when one of the baron’s other employees approaches. I’ve only seen her briefly during our time staying at his summer home, but I recognize her flaxen hair and dainty features from my frequent socializing in the royal court.
She’s someone high up in Baron Cyris’s retinue—a chief of staff of sorts, a go-between who ensures everything at the lower levels of his various estates is running smoothly. Nasha, if I remember her name correctly.
I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before, and I’ve never gotten much of an impression of her one way or another. But something in her face as she looks me up and down puts me on guard.
She clicks her tongue. “It’s Casimir, isn’t it?”
I hide the apprehension I don’t totally understand behind a warm smile. “Yes. The queen asked me to?—”
“I know why you’re here.” Nasha glances around the clearing. “Have you already surveyed the preparations so far?”
“Yes. I’m waiting to advise on some additions the craftspeople will be making once a few more workers have arrived.”
“Then you can spare a little time.”
I do my best to study her surreptitiously. “I’m at your disposal. What is it you need?”
She flicks her hand toward the trees. “It’s better discussed in private.”
I let her lead the way, tension creeping through my limbs. For all the authority she exudes, she’s a slight thing, slimmer even than Ivy was when she first arrived at the college and a good head shorter than me. I’m not afraid she’d manage to physically harm me as long as I stay alert for weapons.
But I don’t know what gifts she has. I don’t know what she wants.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this at all.
I wouldn’t be, if her employer hadn’t set himself up as the enemy of the woman I love.
We tramp between the trees in the direction that takes us farther from the baron’s residence. The sounds of the construction fade swiftly, swallowed up by the magical protections around the clearing.
Nasha keeps walking, her head turning as she scans the forest. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but after a few minutes, she appears to find it. She stops in a small glade where the sun streaks past the leaves and over a patch of pale grass.
She pivots to face me. Her gaze rakes over me before I can speak, as if it’s cutting through the woolen tunic and trousers I’m wearing.
Either my focus on the queen’s plans clouded my usual awareness or Nasha was being more subtle before, because I recognize the intent that gleams in her eyes now. It’s one I’ve seen dozens of times before.
There’s no hostility, only a glimmer of lust.
“I heard so many stories about your prowess in court,” she says. “I never thought I’d be able to afford you.”
My gut lurches. “I’m not currently selling my services.” Nor do I expect to any time in the foreseeable future.
She strolls closer, forcing me to back up a step before she can stroke her hand down my chest. She pauses with her lifted arm hovering between us. “You can’t be serious. Already hailed as the most skilled courtesan under King Konram’s reign before you’d even finished your education, and you’re abandoning your career?”
I keep my voice carefully steady. “I see it more as adjusting my focus. Ardone celebrates more than just carnal pleasures.”
Nasha hums to herself. “You’re still showing off those gaudy teeth. You were on your way to being the most renowned courtesan in history. Always bringing your patrons every pleasure they could have asked for.”
The rejection of that statement wells up inside me so fast I have to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out a simple, No! As I master my reaction, a rush of certainty follows like a gust of fresh air.
“No,” I say more calmly. “That was my mother’s legacy. I’m setting out on my own path, one that’s more suitable for me.”
Nasha takes another step forward, holding my gaze. “Then I’m asking you to make an exception. Because I can pay you now, in a currency that I’d imagine matters more than gold or silver to you at the moment. Give me a half hour with Casimir the courtesan—right here, as we are—and I’ll see that you and your friends, including the riven sorcerer, are allowed to return to the safety of the baron’s residence.”
A rough laugh sputters out of me.
She hasn’t judged completely wrong. That offer would matter to me more than money. But it sounds ridiculous to say that the baron’s residence is safe when I have a predator from it here in front of me. And?—
“The queen herself hasn’t been able to convince him,” I point out. “I think you may be offering a payment you don’t actually have in hand.”
“He’s known me for years. He only just met her. He trusts me with nearly every aspect of his business. If anyone can persuade him, it’s me.”
She eases even nearer with a confidence that suggests she’s sure of her success. When I retreat once more, her brow knits.
I pitch my voice as gentle as possible. “We’re happy and secure enough where we are. And I’m happy with the present state of my career. I won’t be taking any new patrons.”
Nasha’s eyes flash. She peers up at me with a sudden air of menace. “What if I put it this way, then: I’ll pay you by not seeing that the Order finds out exactly where that monster of a woman is hiding.”
A chill prickles over my skin. Truth rings through every harsh word.
She means her threat.
I study her even more warily. “That could be disastrous for your employer too.”
“I can make sure the information is delivered without any ties to him.” She tilts her head with a coyness that clashes with her attempt at blackmail. “Would it really be so horrible for you to tap into your talents with me, just this once?”
She isn’t an unattractive woman. Months ago, before I met Ivy, I wouldn’t have hesitated in the first place.
But now, the answer that peals through every particle of my body is yes. Yes, it would be horrible.
Not only because I’d be betraying the loyalty I’ve offered Ivy. My lover has never demanded that I abandon my trade.
No, I’d be betraying myself.
I am happy with who I am now, with how I’m conducting myself. With the ways I’ve used my talents and my devotion to my godlen that haven’t required me sharing the bodily intimacy I once did with anyone other than the woman who’s claimed my heart.
But what else can I do?
In a flare of desperation, I clench my teeth and push forward my gift. It feels like a hopeless gambit—Nasha has already told me very clearly what would make her happy, and it is technically something I can do—but I touch the side of my fist to my godlen brand and send a silent prayer to Ardone at the same time.
Show me a way through this.
A stream of imagery washes over me, and it isn’t the lascivious tableau I was expecting.
Oh, a few flickers of my body twined with hers brush past me—she does desire that quite a bit. But shining through them come other glimpses: of Petra crowned and beaming down at Nasha while I stand at the queen’s side, of Nasha looking down at a Melchiorek crest pinned to her vest.
Even more than she wants the pleasure I could offer her, she wants to please her future queen. To win Petra’s favor and maybe even join her chosen staff.
She just hasn’t considered that I could accomplish that much for her.
That doesn’t mean I would, not to the extent she dreams. I’m not saying anything on her behalf to Petra without mentioning the threats and the blackmail.
It simply gives me a point of leverage that never occurred to me either.
I pull my posture a little straighter, aiming for authoritative airs of my own. “Is that what you really want to risk everything on—a brief tumble in the forest? You’re clearly ambitious and clever. The queen trusts my judgment, you know. I could see that you found yourself in a position your former colleagues would covet for the rest of your life.”
There’s no mistaking the greedy glint that comes back into Nasha’s gaze. She wets her lips, the aggression ebbing from her stance. “Is that what you’d rather trade for?”
I let a smile play across my face. “I suspect it’s what you’d rather trade for as well. Why shouldn’t we both be happier with this encounter?”
“You would tell her—I give every task I’m assigned my all. I’ve never failed Baron Cyris. She could count on me for—for anything.”
The words rush out of her breathlessly, and then a hint of a blush touches her cheeks. She’s more embarrassed by her enthusiasm than how she attempted to force herself on me just moments ago.
“I’ll speak to her,” I say, picking my words carefully, “and she’ll speak with you about the possibilities within the day.”
Petra would agree. And Petra would retract those mentioned possibilities as soon as Ivy is safe from Lothar’s retribution.
My future queen trusts me, and I trust her as well.
Nasha clasps her hands together, looking abruptly, bizarrely girlish in her apparent delight. Her voice only darkens for a second. “I’ll expect you to hold to that. Oh, to really talk with her—to prepare her reign…”
She wanders back toward the clearing without another word to me, lost in her visions of grandeur.
As I watch her go, my pulse gradually smoothing out from its panicked rhythm, a flare of insight lights in my mind.
Ivy said we needed to show Petra to the world. To shine a light on her and let the people see who she really is.
How many of Silana’s citizens have longed for the royal family’s recognition of their struggles and contributions? How many of them have turned to the Order of the Wild because the scourge sorcerers pretended to care where King Konram didn’t?
How happy would they be if they realized their queen needs them… and isn’t afraid to tell them so. To extend her trust to them too.
Few things can engender loyalty more than having it freely offered back. Perhaps we can sway them back to our side so simply.
With a genuine smile touching my lips, I hurry over to the clearing myself. I still have more work to do, and I need to reach out to Petra to make more than one arrangement.
Ardone has shone on me and lit up the truth. There are so many ways other than those my mother wished that I can spread joy and love through this world.