Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
ANDREIEN
“ T he spark has gone out of our cygnet’s eyes,” my mother said, joining me where I stood in a quiet alcove away from the glittering throng.
I stilled, understanding the mild statement for the warning it was.
High Lord Issahelle, gowned in simple Court finery and no jewelry though this was the formal ball announcing the start of the new season, turned to me, her rainstorm blue-gray eyes piercing.
“She’s still recovering from last season,” I said, choosing my words very, very carefully. The luudthen weren’t the only ones who would, as Anah loved to threaten, “kick my ass into next week” if I harmed her in any true way.
And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Our definitions of harm.
I wanted to keep her, to protect her. She wanted neither thing. She wanted me, she wanted our life, but she didn’t want the chain that came along with it. I could lengthen the chain, but I couldn’t destroy it. I didn’t have that power.
“She wants for nothing,” I added, then said under my breath, “except a good spanking.”
Which I would be thrilled to give her when she finally consented to it again. Her quiet subservience the last several months was grating on my nerves. She was the perfect, cooperative, mild if not exactly sweet-mannered bonded.
I wanted to strangle her.
My mother arched a dark brow, but she let my comment go. “Then what is the problem?”
I watched my bonded, studying her perfectly composed expression as she conversed with the courtiers, Con and Philea at her side. Once again, she’d donned her aloof mortal Muse demeanor, thinking it would shield her from interest.
I grimaced. Anah did like to play dead. She was just terrible at it. I tried to explain that my people loved nothing more than a locked mystery to crack, but she didn’t understand. She thought reticent equaled boring. To her, a proper prima was outgoing, glittering, the center sun of any gathering. But the moon ruled the Darkness, not the sun.
“She doesn't want to feel caged. She wants to feel as if she’s free to make any choice she desires and suffer the consequences as she pleases.” I snorted. “She wants to believe the illusion that her choices won't impact anyone but her, because if they do then that means she isn’t as free as she thought.”
My mother chuckled. “Ah. She doesn't yet understand that adulthood is a cage none of us escape. She sees that we have power, and she thinks power means we have no external constraints. She’ll learn.” Issahelle fell silent. “Have you offered to allow her to live alone?”
I grit my teeth. “I have not. It's not safe.”
She glanced at me. “You have the resources to make it safe. Do better, son. That's an excuse. Perhaps that's what she needs right now. The illusion of absolute independence.”
“I won't lie to her.”
“Nor should you. She should always be aware that the resources of our House are at her disposal, whether she likes it or not. That's the price she pays for living in my city.” The High Lord grimaced, though there was indulgence in it. “She is rather spoiled, isn't she? Our Muses always are.”
I stiffened, bristling with the urge to defend my Anah. Though my mother was right.
“She's young,” was all I said, resenting how ridiculous I sounded. But it was truth. Anah was thirty-one, almost thirty-two. That was nothing.
My mother, five centuries my elder, had the grace not to laugh at me. “Give her another thirty years, and some of these issues will resolve. Offer her a true choice, Andreien. That is my counsel.”
I bowed, accepting my Lord’s dismissal.
“Son.”
I straightened. Blue-gray eyes met mine.
“If you offer the choice, but you don’t believe in it, she will know. She needs your understanding as much as she needs your action. She may be spoiled, but she’s correct. A choice between two different ills is no choice at all, just another trap. And ask yourself why she fears the trap. Does she not have cause?”
I bowed again, and left her.
I left the ballroom, secure my luudthen watched over my bonded, and went to the pond, taking the bucket of chopped meat with me to feed the swans, wondering idly who’d displeased my mother or sister this week.
The swans bit, of course, but I didn’t mind the pain. They were adorable creatures, especially when their bellies were full. That was always when they were most docile. Almost like my Anah.
Maybe she, and the swans, should be fed more often? What had she called it?. . .ah. Hangry.
Interesting word.
Andrei? Her voice brushed against the light mental barrier I kept erected to protect her from my ambient thoughts. Most of them would disturb her. She refused to come near the swans. The High Lord says it’s time for the first dance.
I rose, put the bucket away, and returned to the ballroom where my bonded awaited me.
HASANNAH
Andreien led me to the edge of the ballroom floor, a loose term because I wasn't certain that was the right word for the gleaming polished blackwood pulsing with energy beneath my feet. With life.
The palace wasn't what I had expected. Far more of it seemed to be composed of outdoor spaces rather than the opulent, structured interiors I’d mentally pictured whenever the word castle came up in my mind.
The ceilings were arched in a tent-like shape, dripping with white and purple flowers. There was a golden ambient glow, though I couldn't tell the source of the lighting. Two sides of the ballroom were open to the outdoor grounds.
I'd spent the last three weeks learning a few of the Cassanian Court dances, and then adding in my own choreography and teaching it back to Andrei.
Opening the dance was supposed to be a gift to his mother, who, he'd said, had been nagging him for years to take up some type of dance training. Nagging my word, not his, of course. But I understood he wanted to please his mother, and I also understood my role in the family. I was the one Lord Issahelle would be living her vicarious dance dreams through.
It surprised me her children didn't realize that that was what she was doing with Sahakian Arts. Maybe because they saw her as a High Lord first and a mother second, and not simply as a woman. I understood though. No one became such a devoted fan unless there was some serious wistful thinking there.
The least I could do to earn my place in the family was teach her son how to dance to choreography. Give me a few decades and we could make a decent cavalier out of him, though he didn’t really have the focus for it.
“Are you ready for your debut?” he murmured, amusement in his tone as he offered me an arm.
“Yes.”
“Nervous?”
I ignored the silly, silly question as we swept to the middle of the floor. This was the first time any of the Cassanians would see me dance since the showcase last season. If they wanted to see me again, they would have to purchase season tickets. The Heir’s consort didn’t busk, nor did the prima of Sahakian Arts.
He lifted one arm, his other hand sliding around my waist as I mirrored the opening pose, waiting for the music to begin.
Andrei looked down at me, eyes glinting. Jesus, this man was beautiful. He wore all gold tonight, shimmering like a supernatural Midas, even his skin and lips gold. I couldn’t tell if the metallic gleam was makeup or glamour. His jewel-bright eyes, shadowed in gray and purple, were the only pop of secondary color other than his emerald dark hair.
Definitely glamour, or else I’d have paint all over my dress.
I wore teal, a shade slightly too green and iridescent to match his eyes, but close. The fabric reminded me of mermaid scales, and I wondered if that was a deliberate, subtle reference to the siren-like lure of my succubus nature.
The music began, and we danced, spinning and weaving. I closed my eyes and let myself go.
I'd inserted a lift and a leap here and there to please the High Lord, and to demonstrate why I was Casakraine’s prima ballerina though I hadn’t been with the company for even a full year.
There would be no whispers of politics after the opening night.
I would crush all the rumors and rub my detractors’ faces in the vomit of their gossip.
There were no politics involved in my elevation. I'd earned my spot.
I opened my eyes briefly, and caught a glimpse of the High Lord's face, her daughter at her side. Miahela was obviously bored, but a faint smile curved Issahelle’s lips. A nearly gentle smile, but then the High Lord could afford to display gentleness. No one would mistake it for weakness.
No, it was her official stamp of approval. Tonight was my formal introduction to the Courts, but it was also their first formal warning that messing with me would mean messing with the Sahakian-Casakraines. It was also about assuring them that the Heir taking a mostly mortal bonded wasn't a sign of the House’s deterioration.
Not when that mortal bonded could kill with just a drop of succubus blood. Not when it was said that the mortal bonded was a deliberate choice of the High Lord, rather than an unfortunate joke of the Darkness.
The satin rose in my blood, but it was sluggish. It was becoming harder to cling to that spark of joy these days. Maybe I was still healing.
Or maybe knowing I was a prisoner in a pretty cage was crushing my spirit.
At some signal the rest of the Court joined the dance, though it wasn't ordered. They were Fae, after all, and they danced as they pleased.
Andrei whirled me to the edge of the ballroom, and down the flight of stairs that led to the grounds and the Brothers Grimm forest beyond.
He didn't stop walking until we had breached the edges of that forest, the ballroom at our backs like a glowing beacon, music drifting in the air. He halted.
I turned to him. “Is this where you feed me to the witch?”
Andrei cupped my face between his hands. “No, bonded. This is where I give you back a true choice.”
I stared up at him. “What do you mean?” Weariness descended. “Please, let's not do this again.” Why was he rattling the cage?
He placed a finger on my lips. “Hush. Just listen to me. I was wrong, Hasannah. I knew I was wrong when I took you to the realm gate. It was a false choice, and a cruelty. I knew you wouldn't be able to walk away from me. I was. . .rubbing your face in your weakness. I was frustrated.”
“And now?”
Andrei lowered his hands slowly, stepping back. “I can't set you loose on the city. It wouldn't be safe for you.” A smile flashed across his face. “Or them. So you'll always have a quad to protect you. If you’d like to live apart from me, I won't stop you.” His jaw tightened. “If you’d like to live apart from me, and never see me again, fine. Or we can court. It will be your choice. As much as I can offer you a choice without sacrificing your safety, and the interests of my House.”
Every word out of his throat he dragged like a dead, beaten horse by the ankle behind him.
“Am I going to have to deal with your attitude about the separate living situation if I continue to see you?” I asked.
Andrei tipped his head back, displeasure in the almost pout of his bottom lip. “By ‘see,’ you mean when you invite me over to fuck and then send me on my way when you’ve had your fill.”
That. . .sounded kind of good? There were days I couldn’t get ten minutes of quiet time. Mostly I didn’t mind—I could tune Andrei and the luudthen out, but eventually we’d need to come to an understanding. Maybe I’d let him build me that home studio after all.
With a sturdy lock.
“You could spend the night sometime. As long as you cooked.” I’d gotten used to it.
He gave me a look.
Yes, he was right. Con was the one who did most of the cooking and if Con came, Mathen was definitely coming. And was I really going to squeeze three Fae warriors in whatever tiny apartment I managed to afford downtown? We still hadn’t worked out the whole patronship thingy.
“If I took an apartment downtown, I’d need a patron. Would you have a problem with that?” I asked.
The High Lord gave me one of his sweet-disguising-teeth smiles. “Not if you don’t have a problem with their body decorating the District square come morning. If I allow them to live even that long, my darling.”
“That’s about what I thought.” No. . .the better option was to stay, but establish some firmer boundaries.
Andrei sighed. “You were right. And my mother was right?—”
“Of course you talked to your mother.”
“She is wise, and old. Of course I spoke with her.” He glared at me. “To whom else would you have me go for counsel?”
The words mama's boy flitted through my mind, but that wasn't entirely fair. Though if she hadn't liked me, this situation could have been so much worse.
After a moment, I nodded. “So you talked to your mother. She smacked some sense into you.”
“She offered her counsel,” was the chilly correction. “Which I accepted, as I’m not a faeling to ignore the High Lord when she chooses to give free advice. Usually it costs me.” He paused, most of the chill fading under sheepishness. “The last several weeks have been. . .educational.”
“So you’ll let me move out, and you won’t hound my steps? I can have a career in Casakraine and you won’t interfere? If I don’t want anything to do with your life at all, I can walk away, without being kicked out of the city?”
Stony silence.
“Is there a ticking time bomb on this choice?” I asked sweetly. “Do I have to decide now?”
“No. It’s open ended. I’d prefer you not dangle it over my head like a stick for bad behavior.”
“I have other sticks.” I chewed my bottom lip, some of the heaviness in my chest easing. “And I don’t need guards?—”
“Really?”
“All right.” I paused. “If I live with you, will you please stop rearranging my wardrobe? Stop monitoring my macros? Stop swapping my low carb imports for junk food?”
He opened his mouth, shut it. Gathered his outrage and settled it around his shoulders like a cloak of fluffy feathers. “You’re going too far, Hasannah.”
“I was just checking.” I held his gaze. “I can walk out anytime I want. Leave you. Whether to get my own place in Casakraine, or return to Earth realm, and you won’t hunt me down and kill me.”
He closed his eyes. “Yes. I won’t hurt or kill you if you try to leave me.” The words were strangled, but he said them, so they had to be at least some version of truth.
“Why the epiphany?”
Andrei began to swear. He carried on for some time, the hypocrite, then calmed. “I loathe tests. I haven’t been in a classroom for some time, and I was a poor student anyway.”
I folded my arms. “You probably couldn’t sit still. And I bet Con was the one who taught you all the tricks to annoy the teacher.”
“Fine. Fine, Anah . ” He abandoned his still pose and began walking around me in a circle, hands clasped behind his back. “Most of the indignities you claim you suffer?—”
“Like the all silk underwear drawer? Infiltrating the Arts with spies whose sole purpose is to report on who’s been a meanie to me today?”
“—I would kill Con if he attempted. And I certainly wouldn’t let my mother oversee my activity calendar.”
“You did that too? Andrei. Aren’t you the one who thinks he isn’t clingy, and doesn’t want a clingy mate? I don’t understand how you all get away with lying to yourselves. How is it not against the fairy rules?”
He paused in front of me, sneered, then resumed his circling. “There are rules you must follow. Boundaries you can’t cross. But I never gave you the choice whether or not to accept me as a mate.”
Andrei stopped again, looking down at me. “I took you, and I seduced you into acquiescing to my will. I took advantage of your weakness. I. . .regret any distress I caused you.”
Which wasn’t an “I’m sorry.” Because he wasn’t. But, realistically, this was probably the best I was going to get.
“That’s all I wanted, Andrei,” I said. “The choice to leave or stay. Now, or in the future. I didn’t want a threat hanging over my head.”
“I know. I swore I wouldn’t be like that. I’m trying.”
I smiled at him, fully aware he was weaponizing those luminous eyes and hint-of-vulnerability expression against me, and stepped into his arms. He shuddered, enclosing me in his embrace and burying his head in my neck.
“Don’t walk away from me. Please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to live without you. I love you more than I would have thought possible in so short a time. And love is an insipid word.”
I twined my arms around his neck, waited until he lifted his head to meet my gaze.
“You already know I love you, Andreien. As long as you never treat me like a toy, or a pet, I’ll never walk away from you. For more than a week or two. A month, tops.”
After a moment, he smiled. It was slow, dark, masculine. The High Lord lowered his head, brushing his lips on my ear. “A challenge?”
My heartbeat accelerated, the place between my thighs heating. From just the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes.
He lifted me, and I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. “Come to my bed, my darling. I’ll show you the rewards of being my toy, and my pet.”
I lay in his arms that night, spent and sated, wondering if I’d walked out of one cage only to spring another sweet, decadent, and infinitely more clever trap. He’d had plenty of time to study me and weave a new, more carefully constructed web after all.
Maybe I had the right to walk away unscathed, but that didn’t mean he would ever let me go. He’d said he wouldn’t kill me for making the attempt.
Not the same thing.
And that didn’t mean he wouldn’t spend our life together convincing me to accept his bindings.