23. Refraction

Refraction

A fter the high formality and sneering politicking of the past four days, I'd expected lunch with the dukes to be yet another miserable experience. Instead, it was kind of nice. Tech was aggressive and extroverted enough that he provided an unbreakable backbone to the conversation, Vad and Talien sniped slyly at each other and at Tech, and Ace and Cass mostly held their peace, save for the occasional witticism from Ace or dry-as-bone commentary from Cass.

Despite Cass' obvious dislike for Talien, he didn't seem nearly as stressed or controlled as he had the past few days. The dukes clearly had rapport, and Vad moved through the conversation with ease. Three courtiers and two friends was apparently a comfortable enough ratio that he could… not relax , exactly, but at least not be on high alert.

For the most part, I observed and enjoyed the combination of good food and a lovely locale. The soft splashing of water provided a nice auditory backdrop to Tech's emotive baritone and the lazy purrs of the others, and I appreciated the chance to sit in the sunlight.

By the end of it, pale-skinned Vad and Tech were sporting light sunburns across their cheeks and the tips of their ears, a fate the other two men evaded by possessing melanin and I evaded by possessing Cass. My soulmate took notice; when we'd said our farewells to the three dukes and headed back into the palace, Cass flashed Vad a wicked smile.

"You've got something on your face, Vaddy," he purred, eyes dancing as he tapped his cheekbone.

Vaduin lifted his lip. "You didn't tell me we were spending three hours outside. I would have worn sunscreen if I'd known."

Cass chuckled, then stepped in front of Vad. "Come here." He licked the pad of his thumb and swiped it across Vad's cheekbone like he was cleaning off a smudge. The sunburn vanished in his wake, the skin losing its pink glow. "There," he said with a warm smile. "Better?"

It was enough to make a girl wish she'd gotten sunburned, after all. Having someone use their licked finger to clean your face was so much more intimate-feeling than them subconsciously keeping your skin unburnt. I wanted Cass to touch me .

Vaduin made a grumbling noise, his long tail slicing through the air. "It's the least you can do in recompense."

"I suppose," Cass said with a smirk. "I wouldn't want you to look less than splendid for tonight's revel, anyhow. The red wouldn't go with your formal Archangel regalia."

Vad snorted at that, getting us back into motion by dint of starting to walk again and assuming we'd follow suit. "As if you'll even be looking at us with your soulmate in the room. Maybe I should change out your jewelry, though, Quyen, after that little tail-tweak you gave Shamais."

Shamais? Oh, right. Talien's last name.

"Oh?" I asked in an idle tone of voice. "Do you happen to have some opals on hand?"

An animalistic snarl cut through the air— Cass ' snarl, something as dangerous as that out of the throat of a tiger. "Don't you fucking dare, Vad."

He rocked back, looking taken aback. "I know you don't like the man, but it's a good play. Quyen was clever to think of it."

Cass clenched his jaw so hard mine locked, too. His ears pinned back and wings flared behind him in deadly menace, all the feathers slicked down. "It's not Shamais," he gritted out, stalking down the hall without looking at either of us.

I had to trot to keep up. "What is it, then?" I asked, annoyed. "If you're just being pissy for no reason—"

He growled again. "It's the gods-damned opals. They're—" He stopped, breathing too hard, his shoulders and wings shifting with every breath.

I searched his expression, my skin prickling with sweat from his remembered pain. My chest trembled as my heart fought to race. The sensation was awful enough that I pressed the heel of my hand to my breastbone, trying to still it.

He flushed with shame, ears dropping down, and all of the biofeedback reverted to still calm.

The fucking floor shattered.

Vad and I jumped as the stone tiles beneath our feet broke into a thousand pieces, going from wide panels of marble to sharp teeth of ivory stone, rushing out from Cass like a sunburst. It didn't stop until most of the way down the hallway, the whole floor destroyed.

Dazed, I crouched and touched the floor. My whole body broke out into a cold sweat, adrenaline flooding my veins and my vision tunneling. The raw emotion clawed up my arm like a drowning man climbing his rescuer in desperation. "Cass," I said, his name falling off my tongue in a heartbroken breath.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" Vaduin said.

His voice was thready. I looked up at Vaduin's pale face and saw Cass' mouth tremble.

"Yes," Cass said in an emotionless voice. "The palace is more attuned to me with Quyen here, and it isn't subtle."

My eyes fell back to the floor. I wasn't getting any emotion from Cass. I could still feel his control, my shoulders refusing to go tense and my heart beating in steady calm, half-drowned by the fear radiating off the palace. Shh , I thought, running my hand across the broken stone like smoothing down the lifted fur of a frightened cat. You're safe. I'm here. Vaduin's here. It's okay.

Soft clicking echoed down the hallway as the stone resettled— not into the same smooth panels of stone, but into a sun-in-glory mosaic centered on Cass, the pale marble turning a thousand shades of gold, fading out to match the rest of the floor where it met the undamaged stone. It answered me with the same sighing pleasure of the trees in the forest easing away from the people they had swallowed.

I took a deep breath and stood. My ribs ached for a moment before the tightness eased. "Those power-scattering gloves," I said, remembering how Cass had gone tense when Talien had presented them at the coronation. "It wasn't only that they were a reminder of the people trapped underground. You've worn those before."

A tight nod.

"Oh, fuck," Vad whispered. "Cassie. How old were you? How long did they…?"

Cass took another careful breath, inhaling through his nose. "I was six," he said in a flat voice. "My mother found me plucking the wings off a dragonfly and putting them back on. It was cruel, and I didn't know any better, and even though we lived in a city I had far too much power for any child." He exhaled, slowly, then opened his eyes. His expression didn't change when he looked down at me. "Opals are an excellent tool for keeping most young mages from causing harm. A classic tool, even. They scatter directed power into harmless forms, like prisms refracting sunlight into rainbows."

"Cassie," Vaduin said again, his voice heavy with sympathy.

"I don't understand." I looked up into his face with worry knotting in my chest.

"I told you I'm a reflex healer," he said quietly. "An opal set against the skin of the mage will only refract when he casts, but a reflex mage never ceases in—" His voice caught. He had to pause, lashes fluttering, to keep himself controlled. "I was always casting, and I was always channeling, so with opals bound to my hands there was an endless roar of magic through me, eating away at me. My parents either didn't know or didn't care, and they didn't listen when their little boy sobbed as he told them that he was bleeding to death." Another careful breath. "I learned control," Cass said, every word precise, "very quickly."

The only things I could feel from Cass were trembling sorrow and exacting control. But for my part?

Fuck. The hot rage under my sternum was all mine.

"So your parents tortured you," I said, my voice flat with anger.

Vaduin's tail cracked through the air like a whip. My eyes jerked towards his, but he was staring at the wall with a set expression. "You never told me," he said in a rough voice. "Your own fucking parents. I thought the Academy might have, but your parents… "

Cass shook himself like a dog, his wings rattling. "The Academy didn't, not once they realized what I was. They bound me, though, for transport to the Academy." He started walking again, measuring his pace for me. "It was unpleasant."

More than unpleasant. No child should ever have to suffer through something like that. No parent should ever be allowed to do such harm.

But Cass and I hardly knew each other, and whatever possessive instincts the soulmate bond gave me shouldn't override his own decisions about how to handle his life or his past. Me wanting to hunt down his parents for their crimes like a protective nghê defending her people against evil spirits wasn't on him.

"So no opals," I said, trying and failing to keep the anger out of my voice.

The whipcrack of Vaduin's tail sounded again.

Cass only drew his wings in tighter. "They're difficult for me to look at."

"No shit," I muttered, stalking down the hallway with enough vigor that I started outpacing Cass and Vad. He had to have world-record amounts of opal-related PTSD. His fucking parents. Mine were a deadbeat and dead, and I still wouldn't have traded that hand for his any day of the week.

A few minutes later, while I was still busy fuming, Vaduin started talking to Cass about nothing topics in a calm voice, the way people talk to injured dogs and children. Even though it wasn't directed at me, the pleasant lilt of his tenor voice soothed away some of the sharpness of my defensive anger. By the time we reached the monarchal suite I'd managed to simmer down to tired melancholy.

Vad stopped me from following Cass in with one hand. When I shot him a surprised look, he gave me a half-smile. "Be gentle with him, of your kindness," he said in a low voice, pitched so it wouldn't carry. "He very rarely talks about his family, his childhood, or the early years at the Academy. If he's snappish, it's surely only because the pain hasn't dulled with the years."

I met his eyes for a long moment. They were unusual eyes, even for one of the fae, the deep violet-blue of his irises painted over with pale sea-green towards the center. They suited him.

I couldn't stand there and stare, though, so I sighed out a breath and gave him a nod. "I'm not that gentle, but I'll try."

"I appreciate that a great deal," Vad said, still in that soft voice. "I know this surely can't be easy. Even for me, the way he's wielding Court magic is… troubling… but I'm certain you're safe with him. He's a good man, and he's very dear to me."

My throat went tight. "I'm not afraid of him," I said, keeping my voice quiet so Cass wouldn't overhear. "He heals by reflex . He's not going to hurt me."

Vaduin's mouth slanted up into a smile. "Soulmates," he said with a touch of relief. "Dani wasn't afraid of me, either, and she had every right to be. I'll try to remember that, and not worry about you so much."

"Quyen?" Cass asked from the bedroom, his voice carrying through the intervening entry and sitting rooms.

"Coming!" I called back. I turned back to Vaduin. "You don't need to worry about me, at least not when it comes to him," I said. "You, though…"

He cocked an eyebrow. "What about me?" he asked, clearly amused.

I flashed him a grin. "You might be his best friend, but it's my bedroom, too. Don't come in without knocking anymore, okay? I don't want you to see me naked on accident."

A wicked gleam lit his eyes. "Only on accident, hm?" he asked, with a lilt to the words. "What about on purpose?"

"Tch. You wish. Flirt." I flicked my fingers at him. "Go smooch Dani, and when you come back, knock. "

"Bossy," he said, sounding amused, his expression easy. "As you desire, your majesty. I'll make sure to let Dani know the kiss is from you."

My eyebrows shot up. Vaduin smirked at me, the tips of his sharp fangs showing.

"Is everything alright?" Cass asked, coming back into the entry room. His eyes flicked between me and Vaduin, taking in his friend's flirtatious stance and the way I was fully facing him, chin tipped up in challenge and hand on my hip. His ears leaned back. His tension sang up my spine.

Vaduin took a deliberate step backwards, away from me. "Everything's fine, chevalier," he said, dropping his eyes like a submissive animal. "Quyen was asking me to knock next time I come help with your hair. Did you still want it up tonight?"

"I could do it," I volunteered before Cass could answer.

He frowned at me, a puzzled-seeming expression, but he did at least stop looking like he was afraid Vad and I were going to start making out in the doorway. "Are you any good with formal hairdressing?" he asked, cocking one ear towards me. "Vad's excellent with fashion, and it's not uncomfortable for us to touch for that length of time. I wouldn't mind you trying, but…" Cass tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear in a self-conscious gesture.

"Right. Maybe not for the formal coronation revel," I said, my cheeks starting to warm. What the fuck was I even doing? My hairdressing skills were limited to ponytails and braids. I didn't even know how to do a french braid. Vaduin was doing things that looked like they came out of bridal magazines and Viking movies.

"I'll plan on coming back, then," Vad said after a moment. He flashed me a smile before pivoting and strolling off. "And I'll plan on knocking," he added over his shoulder, giving me a little wave.

I rolled my eyes, privately amused, and stepped into the monarchal suite, closing the door behind me. "He's sassy."

Cass shifted uncomfortably. "Vaddy's blessed with a silver tongue and a lovely face." He shuffled his wings, not looking at me. "It's won him much favor among women."

"And men, too, I'm sure," I said, watching him. "The two of you were lovers, right? Or… are lovers?" He flinched, and I flinched with him, the movement automatic.

He closed his eyes, looking pained. "Were," he said, his voice rough. "A long time ago. Decades." Cass swallowed, hard enough that I felt the tension squeezing my throat. "And once more, a few weeks ago, along with Dani."

"Yeahhh, I figured that one out pretty fast. Dani got way awkward when she realized I'd felt that, and I put two and two together." I leaned against the door and crossed my arms loosely over my chest, regarding him.

He'd been tortured as a child until he'd learned ironclad control. Children don't know how to separate their actions and emotions. Cass had been forced to control everything , without any guidance, and it was pretty obvious that he'd learned to control every outward appearance of emotion. Those lessons had clearly held sway. They'd been amplified, even, by the centuries he'd spent learning to control his magic.

Cass knew how to control bodies, but he'd never been trained how to control a palace, let alone a Court. The second he leaned into his control so that he didn't have to physically feel his emotions – or so that I didn't have to feel them – the Court felt them, instead.

He'd said that every inch of Mercy was part of him. What had once been a box Cass could shove his emotions into wasn't inside him anymore. It was half a million square miles of land and sky, and it didn't know how to have emotions any more than he did.

I set that thought to the side so I could consider what I wanted to do about it in the back of my mind. Now was definitely not the time.

He didn't say anything, standing there with his eyes closed, clearly on the edge of locking all that emotion down again.

I let out a gusty sigh, which at least got him to look at me. "I'm not angry about you sleeping with them. Um, jealous, yeah," I added, feeling awkward about admitting it, "but not mad. You didn't… know, and you were stressed and unhappy and they love you and they're beautiful," I said, blurting it out as my heart started hammering from my anxiety.

At least I could feel that. We weren't in emotional lockdown—not yet. But we would be, if I pushed him.

We still had a revel to go to tonight. It wasn't the time to push—not yet. But it would be, very soon. I suspected more than a floor would break if someone didn't step in front of Cass and face him down.

Soulmates , I thought, with a bit of rueful amusement. I guess it's good I'm not afraid of him .

"Jealous?" he asked softly. His gold-flecked eyes searched my face. "Why?"

I laughed, unable to help it. "What do you mean, 'why'?" I asked, my disbelief coloring the words. "You're my soulmate. They've got each other." I flashed him a smile, leaning into the lightheartedness, trying to step away from the darkness. "Plus, you're, like, a seven-foot-tall fallen-angel sex warrior who mostly doesn't want to lay a finger on me. Why the hell wouldn't I be jealous of them getting to double-team you?"

His face went through a series of peculiar expressions, settling on bafflement. "I'm— That's—" He gave me a perplexed look. "I'm six foot seven."

"Tch." I shook my head at him. "It's all the same from down here, Cassie."

One corner of his mouth slanted up. "I'm also yours, Quyen. Yours alone, for as long as that's your desire," he said softly. "I wouldn't have said yes if I'd remembered." Shame flashed across his face. "They surely wouldn't have even offered, but I certainly wouldn't have said yes." Before I could say anything, he took a deep breath and added, "You don't have to commit anything like that to me. If… if you prefer Vad—"

"You'd hate that, wouldn't you?" I asked in reply. "Luckily for you, me, and the state of the palace floors, I don't. For the record, I'm not trying to start something with your best friend. I'm a bit creeped out by the fuzzy bat-wings with the hands and extra joints, and second of all, even if Danica didn't make me feel like an awkward teenager next to a supermodel, I'm pretty sure Vaduin flirts by default and didn't mean anything by it."

"He does, but he also happily follows through," Cass said, unsuccessfully trying to hide both his smile and relief. He half-spread his wings, the metal feathers sliding across each other with a musical chime. "As for wings… these ones aren't creepy, I hope?"

I snorted at that. "Now you're showing off," I said, letting him hear my amusement. "You know full well I think your wings are pretty."

Cass laughed and folded them back behind him again. "I do," he admitted. "It's a nice change of pace to have them admired. Generally people are rather leery of my wings. Leery of everything about me, actually, but definitely of my wings."

"Because they're sharp?" I asked, raising a brow.

He flashed me a bright smile, stretched out one wing, and brushed it against an empty metal sconce. His blackened-bronze feather sheared through the silver as if it wasn't there; cut so cleanly that the sconce didn't so much as quiver. The top simply toppled over in slow motion, and clanged onto the floor.

I stared at the object. Pushed myself off the door, walked over, and picked it up to stare some more.

It wasn't even warm.

"'Sharp' is one way to describe them," Cass said.