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  Changing into the dress, Aren grimaced at how low the cut came, showing off a good deal more than she was comfortable with. Seeing her annoyance Telm made a face, then went digging into her own items, which had been delivered shortly before the tailor arrived. From them she withdrew a lace square and some pins. Telm pinned the lace square under the bodice, covering much of what Aren wanted to hide.

  “There,” Telm said, giving Aren’s shoulder a pat. “Never thought my good doily would serve such a purpose, but it will survive a walk. Come along. Can’t keep them waiting outside for too long.”

  Aren made a face, but opened the door and was met by the startled faces of two men. The tailor looked her over, trying to figure out what the change to his dress had been. Av looked Aren up and down, then focused on her face pointedly. Aren did her best to curtsey, then straightened.

  “You wanted to take me for a walk?” Aren asked Av.

  “When you put it that way,” Av said. “It sounds like I treat you like a dog.”

  While the two of them spoke, Telm turned to the tailor. She handed over his stool and whispered instructions.

  “Just don’t tell me to sit, and we won’t have a problem,” Aren said, taking the offered arm. “What is the point of this?”

  “Political advantage by claiming intentions of a romantic sort?” Av asked quietly.

  “Really?” Aren said.

  Av shook his head. “No, my father made a point to explain to me that the court has no idea I have any interest in you. At least, the lords and ladies. The guard know, I'm sure the servants do as well. The healers know for certain. Those of title, however, believe you to be a single woman without prospects. I intend to correct that.”

  “By claiming me as yours?” Aren asked.

  “You are mine.”

  “But you cannot do that to me whenever you please,” Aren said.

  The man blushed. “We can’t whenever you please, either.”

  “You could,” Telm said, leaning forward a bit. “But not before the court is very well aware those sounds coming from Lady Aren’s rooms are pleasure and not pain. A walk, Lord Av, means walking. Not standing in front of the lady’s rooms gossiping.”

  “Not gossiping,” Av grumbled in response, leading Aren away from her rooms.

  They walked through the halls of the palace. Everywhere the pair went, daily life pulled to a stop. People gawked at Aren, causing her to look down, keeping her eyes on the floor. Neither of them spoke as they walked, there was no pleasure in the motion.

  Upon returning to Aren’s rooms, she found herself feeling embarrassed and awkward. She couldn’t meet Av’s eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” Av asked.

  “They were all staring at me,” Aren said to the floor.

  “You’ve held several courts,” Av said pointedly. “Everyone stares at you then. That? That was them staring at me, because I’ve never taken a relationship public before.”

  “Oh.” Aren glanced up at Av. “Neither have I.”

  “I know, it's more worthy of gossip when you're thirty-four without a single public lover,” Av murmured in response.

  Gathering her courage, Aren straightened and met Av’s eyes. She recalled the conversation she had had with Ervam only a few days before, sitting on his porch as they shelled peas. Not a care in the world, for that moment, besides the courtesy one gave during a relationship.

  She could have allowed someone else to ask the questions, could have left it to her mother to speak with Av. Aren assumed that if her mother did speak with Av, she would never hear back. Asking questions was basic courtesy, and while typically done by the parents and subtly, Aren could rely on no one else to protect her interests.

  “Lord Av, what are your intentions with me?” she asked.

  “Intentions?” Av asked, smiling at her. “Lady Aren, I’ve claimed you, you are mine. As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters.” He stepped closer to her, set his hands on her hips. “If you say no, then that means no, but it doesn’t change my claim. Doesn’t change how I feel. But if you say yes?” He leaned in close, their faces nearly touching. “If you say yes, if you say you want it, I will mate you here and now. For a year, for ten years, for all of our lives. Because the title of mate means nothing besides giving others a word to call us. You are mine.”

  Aren opened her mouth to speak as Av bent his head down. Their lips almost touched.

  Suddenly there was a hand between them, Telm made a point of clearing her throat as loudly as possible.

  “That is quite enough, enough indeed,” Telm said, pushing them apart with her hands. She stepped up to the pair, almost between them. “Don’t need to be doing that in the hallway, not right now. Best save it for public appearances. This court needs a courtship, the one sitting the throne being chased by an attractive man. The throne needs it, the lords and ladies need it, the palace needs it, and I need it, to cleanse everything of Em. Court one another in public.”

  “Why can’t we just—” Av started.

  “Because I said no,” Telm snapped at him, shaking her finger in his face.

  Av focused on the finger, lips peeling back in a snarl. Aren was surprised the finger, so close to his face, didn’t get bit. Sighing out, she knew why Telm said what she did. It felt like the right thing, that they wait. Waiting gave Aren the time to sort through her emotions, to figure out what she had been about to say to Av, right before he almost kissed her.

  “If Aren says so, I mean it, I will mate her here and now,” Av said.

  Telm jabbed a finger at Av, then between him and Aren. “If you two elope? I will find you. No matter where you run to. I will find you. And when I do? When I finally catch up to you?”—the finger jabbed at Av—“I will take your fun bits and make you eat them. Do you understand me?”

  Av paled considerably. Aren almost giggled, feeling that the threat was ridiculous, to say the least.

  “You think I wouldn’t?” Telm asked Aren sternly.

  Aren caught herself, straightened, and tried to be stern back to Telm as she said, “I’ve yet to decide whether I have a use for Lord Av’s fun bits.”

  She walked into her rooms without looking to Av, afraid she would start giggling at the sight of him. Telm followed her in and closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure.

  “I think you scared him,” Telm said.

  “Someone has to,” Aren responded, laughing despite herself.

  “I did mean it, Aren,” Telm said, approaching to remove the doily from the dress. “If you two elope, I will take them.”

  “What’s eloping?” Aren asked. “What’s the difference between that and mating?”

  “Eloping is a legal mating without the ceremony, feast, courting, notice, or blessings. You need those things, Aren. If you settle your mind, no doubt you will see the wisdom in my words, even if it upsets you. The court would never recognize an elopement for the one who sits the throne. Otherwise I simply would have taken you and Av to his father when he arrived, and arranged an elopement no matter how much you stomped your feet.”

  “To keep my parents away?” Aren asked.

  “You still need the permission of a parent to elope,” Telm said gravely. She shook her head. “The only way to elope without their permission is to move to another land. The north, really, would be the only place because to elope without a parent's permission you must be mating a natural-born citizen of the land.”

  “Probably for the best. I'm confused. Things are moving very fast and I need to make decisions and then he swoops in here and does this?” Aren shook her head.

  Telm huffed out a breath. “Please, you were going to tell him you accept him and that you’d take him as yours. Don’t give me this run around nonsense. I’ve seen plenty of young ladies in my time, I know when you’re fighting for the sake of pretending you have a choice, and when you’re actually fighting.”

  Aren sighed. “What if I'm settling for the first man who showed the slightest interest
in me? He's a good man, I suppose, but we barely know one another.”

  “When it comes to love, our rank is especially stubborn,” Telm said cautiously. “You can’t choose your mother and father, you cannot choose your bloodline, or if the throne takes you, but you can choose the man you spend your time mated to. This stubbornness has done many queens a mound of good. It’s prevented them from mating for the wrong reasons or simply mating a man who is putting on an act.”

  “But in my case, it’s just stubbornness?” Aren asked.

  “As you said, he is a good man, a good pair for you. There are women who give in to the first man who comes to them. Then there are the women who ignore everyone but the one who will be right for them. Hundreds of lords at court, many of whom are single and now highly interested in you. Those are the bad ones, you don't even notice them. What you see is Av.”

  “I don't know.” Aren shook her head. “I need.”—she sighed, shaking her head again—“my parents to be parents and protect me, tell me what they see about the man interested in me as an outside perspective, one that I could trust. Women are often led astray by a man they love because they are blinded by what he is doing to them.”

  “My girl, Lord Av signed the papers months ago. At that time the ranks at court judged the pairing and began watching him. If he had done, or if he does, anything that is an abuse to you, he’s forfeited his life.”

  “That’s what that paperwork is?” Aren grumbled. “I thought it was just ownership documentation.”

  “No, you cannot own a person. You can barter your life for theirs, or bet your life for theirs, betting that you can link yourself to them and create a relationship, but only through certain means.”

  “What were his terms?” Aren asked Telm.

  “While the one who sits the throne is allowed to know these terms, the one who the papers are talking about isn’t, otherwise how would the papers work?” Telm said in response. “But there are also terms that Lord Av doesn’t know about, such as the threshold.”

  “He… knows he can do as he pleases, but only to a point, and he doesn’t actually know where that point ends? He doesn’t know at which point, his life is forfeit?”

  “It’s not a bet if you know all the cards,” Telm said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mar's giggle turned to a laugh as Aren tried to defend herself with, “I thought it was funny, but I think I scared him.” When Mar laughed harder, Aren added, “It's funny, but not this funny.”

  They sat before the hearth. Aren was dressed in a robe, having no plans to leave her rooms that day. Mar was dressed in training clothing, ready to join the funeral pyre of her mother. The smoke from the pyre would soak into whatever clothing she wore, nothing would be able to get the smell out.

  “I...” Mar paused to quell the laugh. “I had just gotten through threatening him.”

  “Oh dear. Av was having a bad day, was he?”

  Mar nodded through another fit of giggling. “He's going to think we hate him.”

  “Or that I really have no use for his fun bits,” Aren said with a smile.

  “Seriously, though, do you?” Mar asked. “Or should I start researching how to take on a warrior?”

  “I do, I quite enjoyed our time in bed,” Aren responded. “I was quite ready to say no the first time, then he touched me and all thought of declining went straight out of my mind. He knew what I was, I didn't have that to hold me back and I have to admit, I was curious. What about Perlon? Have you found a use for his fun bits?”

  “What?” Mar said, all mirth gone from her. “No, my mother told me that bedroom duties are an obligation and only for procreation purposes, really. Men enjoy it, but women don't.”

  “Your mother lied to you, your entire life, Mar,” Aren said pointedly. “Now is not a good time to believe her.”

  “What do you mean, my entire life?” Mar asked. “She was abusive, not a liar.”

  “Em told you that your father wanted nothing to do with you, which was a lie,” Aren said. “The man didn't even know you were his. When he found out, it was probably what led to his anger and why he took your mother's life.”

  “My father killed my mother?” Mar asked, shocked. “The aunts said he was at court for my mating, but they never told me who he was. Where is he?”

  “No, Mar,” Aren said, shaking her head. “Your father is dealing with a lot right now. When I say that, I want you to take it seriously. I have a good deal of stress in my life, so I hope you can appreciate it when I say that his stress is worse. He's taken the life of the one who sat the throne. We've chosen not to press charges even though he did it in anger, even though it was technically murder.”

  “He knows he is my father, but hasn't introduced himself to me?”

  Aren sighed, gave Mar a pitying look. “You've lived without knowing his name for eighteen years, a few more days isn't going to kill either of you.”

  “I suppose,” Mar said, thinking of the funeral, of all the people who would be there.

  If Aren knew, then Av would know. He might be more forthcoming with the information, especially if Mar made it seem like she already knew.

  Mar stood. “I should probably get out to the pyre. Why isn't Jer giving my mother her last rites?”

  “He didn't feel he was able to,” Aren said. “Sometimes mates get like that. It's hard to face the pyre, harder to light it, knowing it is the last time you will ever see your mate, no matter your relationship with them. Or so Jer told me.”

  “Ah.” Mar nodded slowly. “I will come back later and see you. Perhaps we could see what sort of trouble we could get ourselves into.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful idea,” Aren said with a weak smile.

  Mar left Aren's rooms, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her. Aren had spoken of how her head hurt, had been bothering her since she took the throne, but she tried to tell Mar that it was from stress. Having experienced the headaches before, Mar knew they were from restraining her anger. She recognized the signs, but only knew that the anger would either pass, or Aren would unleash herself on some unsuspecting fool.

  Not wanting to be that fool, she would not try Aren's temper.

  Leaving the palace, Mar headed to the pyre, built on the training grounds. It was already lit, flames reaching ever higher as ladies wept in each other’s arms. Mar stepped up beside Av, who had set his weight and had a determined look on his face.

  “You're late,” Av said.

  “I don't care about honouring someone who I was told I have no connection to any longer,” Mar said. “I'm just here to make certain it's her, and that she burns.”

  Av chuckled. “That's what I'm here for as well.”

  “Were you angry with her?”

  “Mar, this is your mother,” Av said. “There were a good many people angry with her, especially at the end.”

  “Angry enough to kill her?”

  Av stiffened. “Who told you she was killed?”

  “Aren did,” Mar said.

  “Ah, suppose she could have used gentler terms,” Av grumbled, turning back to the pyre.

  The ladies began drifting away in clumps, consoling one another as they headed to the palace. In honour of Em, the palace cellars would be opened and a feast would be had. The ladies would, no doubt, help themselves to wine and drink themselves to sleep.

  “I was just testing you,” Mar said, focusing on the fire. “Aren said my father killed my mother out of anger. Obviously, you aren't my father.”

  “Obviously,” Av said.

  “Are you going to stand out here all night?” Mar asked. “Really? Watch this burn down to nothing?”

  Av nodded. “I need to be certain it doesn't go out prematurely. The stable master will be here shortly to help me with the watch. He just has a few things to do before he retires for the day.”

  “I was hoping you could take me to my father,” Mar muttered. “I can't seem to find him any place. Aren indicated you might know where he i
s hiding.”

  “Probably with Aren at the moment,” Av said. “He's got a lot on his mind and she's the only one he seems to find comfort around.”

  “You aren't threatened by his being alone with her?” Mar asked.

  “Why would I be threatened by that?” Av asked, turning to her with a frown. “You little brat. You're trying to ply me for information! At your own mother's funeral pyre!”

  Mar motioned to the pyre. “Please, no one is doing more than pay lip service to her! Meanwhile I'm taunted with the knowledge that my father is at court and you all know who he is, but won't tell me.”

  “I can't tell you who he is, not if Aren refused to,” Av said with a shake of his head.

  The two stared at the flames silently. Mar was sullen, unhappy she had been figured out.

  “He really killed my mother?” Mar asked finally.

  “Yes, and Perlon is not related to you in any way,” Av said. “We wouldn't allow your mother to do that to you.”

  More silence followed. Mar looked up at the black smoke, carried west by the wind. Most of the smell was carried off, away from the palace. Those for miles around would know a funeral pyre had been lit at the palace and, given the shifting of the throne, most would know that it was Em who was on the pyre.

  Av sighed. “Look, I do feel badly about him knowing and you not knowing. I don't think it's fair.”

  “Then you'll tell me?”

  “Not a damn chance,” Av said. “I can, however, tell you something your father doesn't know, that would probably hit him the way learning who he is, will hit you.”

  Mar considered Av's words, then nodded. “All right, I can accept your peace offering and forgive you not telling me his name. But why didn't Aren offer this information to me?”

  “Aren doesn't know,” Av murmured. “There's a commune of magic users that I've helped come together. Men and women banished from court. Queens who were too strong and too close to the palace, those whom Em would hunt down and destroy if she could have found them. I've sent word for one of them to come to court in the spring because I believe she and Aren would appreciate one another. She would also stand for the commune no matter what Aren says, assert herself and keep the others safe.”