Chapter 7
Rubien was the capital of Aladria, a city of towering proportions, its cathedrals and plazas so tall they seemed to have been designed for the Nephilim instead of humans.
The city was a testament to the masonry of the Stonecrafter Guild, a city made entirely of dark gray stone, whether it was the smooth cobbled surface of the streets or the magnificent mansions and keeps that loomed over each other.
Great bridges spanned over the ravines of buildings erected along the slopes of old hills. An illuminated clock tower overlooked the city square. The city square was lit with a hundred gas lamps, more than the usual number, and in more colors than the usual yellow.
A festival had the city in its grip, fervor all across the streets and all of its neighborhoods.
People in their best garbs, gowns, and dresses walked with enthusiasm and beaming smiles, the men with their arms wrapped around their women, the women with their hands guiding their children through the crowds.
Lesya and Cassian sat on a very contested bench in the square, both of them eating ice cream cones—chocolate for her, vanilla and coffee for him—looking at all the proceedings. They were quite amused at the jesters to the tunes of the bards’ troupe at the center by the tall fountain.
A firebreather was letting out flames from her mouth without any kerosene.
A trapeze artist was crossing the wires above, wires from which posters and lamps and balloons hung.
In some distant part of the city, there was an old wizard at work, sending animated fireworks into the sky, lighting up the night with displays of dragons, knights, and faeries.
The display of these vibrant fireworks rose against the old castle atop the city, and then lit it up in a dozen different colors.
The castle was where the king of Aladria once resided. Nowadays, with a parliament and a democratic government, the offices of the prime minister and other officials were in the Diplomatic District, well away from the main city.
“All this just for a good harvest,” Lesya said, her gaze following the revelers, the merchants behind their stalls, the children buying cotton candy and licorice whips, the men dancing with their women by the fountain.
“It’s been a good harvest,” Cassian said, finishing off his ice cream cone and cleaning his hands on his handkerchief.
He was dressed impeccably in a crisp suit, looking every bit the distinguished gentleman that he was.
He’d bought Lesya a backless red dress, one that accentuated her breasts and her waist, and then puffed up at the hips.
Several heads had turned since she’d entered the square.
She’d let her hair down, applied just a tinge of subtle makeup, enough to bring out her features.
It felt good to throw on some color, remind herself that her life in the undercroft wasn’t the only life out there.
“Come,” Cassian said, after he’d seen her finish her cone. “I want to dance with you.”
He produced a rose out of thin air and tucked it behind her ear. “A rose for my beloved.”
“Cass, people are watching,” Lesya said, letting her take him in his arms.
“Let them,” Cass whispered in her ear as he danced slowly to the tune that the troupe was playing. Several other couples also joined, all of them dancing around the fountain to the melodic violin and guitar. “I want them all to see that you belong to me.”
He had his arm around her waist, her hand in his hand, his face an inch away from hers, and then it wasn’t.
He leaned close, kissing her while holding her, the two of them swaying, the revelers cheering them on as they kissed.
The violin’s tune picking up, the rest of the troupe joining in, picking up the rhythm.
“Cass!” Lesya laughed as he quickened his dance, and she had to follow suit, clapping and tapping and turning.
“Keep up!” he laughed back, suddenly pulling his arm around her waist and making her sway. At that exact moment, the beat stopped, and they froze. She was reclined in his arm, and he was holding her by the waist and by her leg.
The crowd cheered, some of them whistling, others clapping.
Cassian did a little bow to the crowd, and Lesya did a curtsy.
“Another?” Cassian asked.
“What do you think?” Lesya laughed as she began dancing again, this time faster than before.
He joined her again as the trumpets joined in and an accordion started playing. This time, more of the crowd joined in.
And for these moments, she could not recall at all what she was worried about. All her worries seemed to be in some distant past, some distant place that was not this place. Not this beautiful, vibrant, musical place with its cheerful crowd and cool seaside air.
* * *
It was another hour later that the two of them exited the square, Lesya holding her red heels in her hand, both of them laughing, walking toward an inn hand in hand.
There was a crowd at the bar, and several festival attendees were eating hearty meals on the tables.
Stew, roast, warm bread, rich cheese, red wine—the air inside the inn was thick with the smell of good food, good drink, and expensive tobacco smoke.
The music from the square traveled inside the inn.
Several people were bobbing their head or moving their feet to the tunes as they ate and drank.
“A beer for the lady,” Cassian said, emerging from the bar, holding two beer bottles. “And a beer for moi.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking a deep gulp from it. It was refreshing, chilled, and nothing at all like the afterthought swill that they sold to students at Crook Haven.
“Cass,” she said, taking another swig. “I don’t want to call it a night just yet.”
“I was hoping you’d say that!” Cass said, taking her hand enthusiastically.
He had the excitement of a much younger boy, and seeing him like that pleased her.
Free of any worries, face all lit up, a smile stretching his cheeks, his hair all wild, sweat on his forehead.
“Come on, there’s this place I gotta show you! ”
She raced with him, her feet slamming on the cobblestones. While running, she cast a spell and made trainers appear on her feet. Much better. Now she could keep up with him.
They raced past the leaning old buildings, raced along twisting streets, across a grand bridge that connected two different districts, and then, for five more minutes, they kept running until the cobbled roads ended and a dirt track began, leading into the wilderness.
She wasn’t afraid. Cassian was with her. She trusted the man with her life.
They ran through the forest track until they came to a clearing leading up to a cliff’s edge. Beyond it, the sea roared and slammed against rocks, frothing and foaming.
“Look behind you,” Cassian said, taking her by the shoulders and gently turning her around.
And there it was, the jewel of Aladria, the capital in all its glory, a thousand gas lamps lighting up all the streets, warm yellow lights lit behind each of the hundreds of windows, fireworks crackling in the sky, and the sounds of revelry making it all the way to this hidden cliff corner in the outskirts of the city.
She had never seen anything like it in her life.
The city rose gradually along the massive cliff upon which it was built.
A sprawling metropolis with hospitals, schools, colleges, churches, temples, markets, keeps, towers, and spires.
Buttresses and arches, barrel vaults and tall steeples.
The moon illuminated all the many stained-glass windows of the old establishments, the moon bathing the castle in blue.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes taking it all in.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a second. “More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.”
She forced her eyes off the city and upon Cassian. He was red in the face, panting from all the running, sweating and smiling.
“Cassian,” Lesya said, walking up to him, placing her head on his chest, her arms on his shoulders. “Thank you for tonight. You don’t know how needed it was.”
“I want to take you to all the best places, Les. I want to show you London, Paris, I want us to go to Switzerland, even Romania. I want us to travel all over the world, visit America if you wish. We’d never have a permanent place to stay.
We’d be perpetual travelers, trying different food, seeing different sights, making love in a new bed each night.
A new country, a new city. It’s all I want.
To be with you till the end of my days. I wish to give you everything you’ve ever desired, and then I wish to give you desire itself on a platter, so that you wouldn’t even want for want anymore. You’d have it all.”
“Cass,” she whispered, her heart filled with love, her body yearning for him. She didn’t want for anything in this moment other than him. If only he could know that.
And perhaps he did, because he kissed her right there, a kiss of passion so fervent that his tongue broke through her lips and rolled against her tongue, his arms tightened around her, his hands exploring her naked back, running down to her hips, and then coming back up to her shoulders.
She could feel that he was stiff as a rock, and she pressed into it, making him harder, her breasts pressed against his chest, her moans stifled in his mouth as she felt the engines of pleasure hum inside her body.
They kissed without any worry that some student might spy on them, or that a teacher would discover them.
They kissed as two people who had loved each other for years did, a kiss without pretense, a kiss of possession, a kiss that paled every other sensation to ever exist in the wake of wet lips running along wet lips, sweat and tears and saliva clinging to their skin, hot breath on hot face, a frenzied electricity running in their bodies, inducted of pure passion, looking for release.
“Do you trust me?” Cass broke the kiss and whispered heavily in her ear.