35. Step by Step

Step by Step

V ad and Dani were waiting for us by the time we made it out to the launch. Both of them had dressed warmly for the cold of the mountain air. Cass hadn't bothered, and I had on a lovely black wool coat more for propriety than anything else. I could feel the cold, but it didn't make me shiver or get chilled. Cass kept me warm.

There was probably some poetry or symbolism in there. I didn't have time to think about it, though. Almost as soon as we got to the cliffside, Vad scooped up Dani and leapt out into the air, and Cass followed after with me.

I yelped in surprise, my arms going around his neck—and then started laughing with glee at the raw power of flight. Cass' warm chuckle rolled through me as the cold wind tore at my hair. In the dark, his wings glimmered like the ocean at night. Nothing else gave a hint that he was in the sky. Black clothes, dark hair, brown skin… "You must have been a terror in the night during the war," I murmured into his ear, watching his wings as we soared down for Taeskana.

He laughed again, low and easy. "I was, but Ayre didn't generally deploy me to the front lines," Cass said, without any arrogance. "I was much more valuable in reconnaissance. My squads could fly long-distances nonstop with my assistance, and on the ground I could easily handle small deployments on my own. We never left anyone alive who could tell the Stag Army my capabilities." He shifted his grip on me, holding me closer to his chest. "I enjoyed the physicality of battle, but not the killing. If there were a safe way for me to duel, I suspect I would relish it, but…"

"The healing?"

Cass nodded, his eyes on the lights of the city below us as we dove down. The wind rushed past us in a wild song. "I don't usually fight with a sword. Battle-trained healers typically use wooden staves, and direct their power along the organic material to kill instead of heal." He sighed through his nose, a sound I only heard over the wind because my face was so close to his. "It's fast and lethal, and the dead stay dead. I have no desire to kill someone on instinct for sport."

"You wouldn't kill me," I offered.

His ear tilted towards me, and a smile warmed his face. "Oh? Are you a fighter, your majesty?"

"Nope!" I said brightly, getting another laugh from him. "But I could be," I added in a more serious tone. "Why not? A girl needs hobbies."

"If you'd like a tutor, I would be pleased to find you one," he said. An eerie, ululating sound filtered through the air, wild and alien. "That's Vad." Cass gave me a little squeeze. "Hold on. We're going to dive."

It was all the warning I got before Cass folded his wings, and we plummeted from the sky.

By the roar of the wind, we hit at least sixty miles an hour before Cass threw out his wings again, flipping us into a vertical position as he backwinged to slow our speed. I whooped and started laughing hysterically, Cass' confidence and delight transferring to me. He landed cleanly, with almost no force, his feet touching down on the bare section of roof that had been cleaned for our arrival.

Vaduin landed on the other side of the rooftop with no less grace, him and Dani wind-tossed and rosy-cheeked.

I wiggled to get Cass to put me down. He obliged, crossing his arms over his chest as I skipped across the roof towards the table set for us.

The Dove's Roost was gorgeous. Tall carved-stone pillars with flame flickering inside them heated the space, with little spheres of lambence strung overhead like fairy-lights. The tables were all wooden and solid, and the seats were more like comfy couches than anything else. There was even a section of lounging-pillows around a firepit, and what looked like a stage for live musicians.

I dropped into one of the comfortable chairs next to a backless chaise and picked up the menu—a handwritten list in silver ink on midnight-blue paper, with a pair of doves on a branch drawn as the header. "Good pick, Vad," I said when he came over, running my finger down the menu to keep my spot as I read.

He grinned and sprawled down across from me, tugging Dani down into his lap. "You haven't even tried the food yet. It is good, though."

Cass took the seat next to me, taking care with his wings. "Given that you're a carnivore, I don't trust your taste in food at all."

"Aww, don't be that way," Vad said, mock-pouting. He draped his arms over Dani's shoulders as she read her own menu. "I can't help being a horrible monster."

"You love being a horrible monster, hissy-kissy," Dani said, her eyes dancing .

"I do," he said, not at all troubled. "Try the rabbit dumplings. They're incredible."

A server came up a few minutes after we'd landed, bringing us hot tea and taking our first round of orders. To my surprise, they had a selection of mortal-side drinks (mostly alcohols), and on a whim, I ordered a fancy bottle of Napa wine for the table. When I'd lived in California, I'd never had the money to buy fancy wine. I hadn't even really had the money to buy alcohol at all, though we did get something to share every once in a while.

It was… good? I didn't know much about wine, but it tasted smooth and dark, and by the way Vad's eyebrows shot up and the speed with which he refilled his glass, I knew he liked it, too. The rabbit dumplings were good, too, even to a non-carnivore's palate, and none of the food was nearly as weird as the stuff I kept getting fed at formal events.

One bottle of wine for a group of four was enough to warm the conversation, but not enough to make the flight back difficult. I suspected, based on the fact that I got pleasantly buzzed but not flushed and hot, or even tipsy, that there wasn't an amount of alcohol that would trouble Cass—or me. His magic was better than an Irishman's liver.

Dani and Vad bantered their way through dinner, and Cass relaxed enough to have his arm slung behind me on the couch, though we weren't touching. The three of them kept up a cheerful chatter, folding me into their trio with surprising ease. It felt like I'd always known them—that my life had always been meant to have these three people in it, and that they'd been waiting for me, too. When Vaduin ordered a second bottle of wine for the table, I didn't protest, the troubles melting off my shoulders. Who cared how late we stayed? I couldn't think of anywhere better to be.

We stayed until at least one in the morning, which I suspected was long past when the Dove's Roost usually closed for the night, but given the quantity of gold Cass left on the table, I also suspected nobody would be unhappy with the bargain. The flight up took longer than the flight down, but I didn't mind. I laid my head against Cass' shoulder and watched the lights of the palace grow closer. With him flying and me sleepy from wine and good food, everything felt timeless. There was only the sky and the steady beat of my soulmate's heart and wings.

I got why Vaduin called flying together intimate. We were all alone in the world. I had Cass, and Cass had me.

Vad and Dani said their goodbyes on the roof, wrapping me in affectionate hugs. Vaduin even kissed me on the cheek in the sort of casual physical affection I'd never experienced before. Cass' farewells were more reserved; a gentle bump of his wing against Vad's and a "don't forget to practice, mageling" for Dani.

He and I moseyed downstairs instead of making a doorway to our bedroom, Cass leading me through the palace. It was nice to see more of the Clement Palace. It was a lovely building, full of inlaid floors, paintings, and statuary. Everything about it felt old and stately. Mercy was ancient – far older than any human civilization – but none of it was still in the Stone Age. Time moved, even for the fae.

I stopped Cass before he went to get ready for bed. "I was thinking," I said, looking up at him. "It's silly for you to sleep in a bed that's too small for you. Someone told me we should be able to get the palace to rearrange the monarchal suite, since you don't like the big room. What do you think about doing that?"

"Ah…" My cheeks heated as his darkened. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable sharing a bed."

"I didn't imagine you would be," I said, flashing him a smile. I walked over to one of the couches and dropped down onto it. "We could still rearrange some walls. I'd like Kat to have her proper room, and, honestly, you should have an assistant to help out with your clothes and cleaning and stuff, too. Hair, even, now that Vad's heading back to Mirage Duchy, as long as it's not too weird for you."

Cass made a face. "I suppose that's true," he said reluctantly. "I don't sleep well when I'm in open spaces." He shrugged, not looking at me. "I'm not safe to others when I'm sleeping, and not only because of my power. I could hurt someone in a dream if I move my wings wrong, so I dislike there being space near my bed where someone might be."

"Okay." I gave him another smile. "So we make the shared bedroom small, and divide your side up into a small bedroom and a staging room for dressing or reading or whatever, and your assistant's room can open up into the staging room. Would that work?"

He paused, thinking, his ears shifting. "I don't see why not," Cass said after a moment, sounding surprised about it. "If it's awful, I suppose we could change it."

"That's the spirit," I said with a grin. "So how do we do it?"

Doing it was easier than I anticipated. Palaces were apparently very responsive to their Monarchs even when one of them wasn't a land-tied command healer, and shaping the palace to suit the residents was one of the responsibilities of the Monarch. It ended up being a lot like making doors or finding my lost man; we sat cross-legged on the floor with me on Cass' lap, talked our way through what we wanted, and asked the palace for it.

We ended up settling on a suite of rooms larger than my whole house back in Long Beach. The central bedroom, hosting the massive bed I'd been sleeping in, clocked in at twelve by fifteen; large enough to fit the bed and a few decorations without being claustrophobic, but not wide enough for Cass to spread his wings. It had a pair of windows on the back wall and opened up to the massive ensuite bathroom on the front and our private rooms on each side.

Cass' private room got a bed. Mine did, too, for symmetry, though it was never going to get used. We each got our own staging room and body-servant's room – mine for Kat, his for a manservant to tidy his room and manage his clothing – and the staging rooms opened up onto a shared sitting room and entry room. It was an outrageous amount of space for two people, but that was kind of nice. The monarchal suite was our home-within-a-home. Maybe we could add a private garden off the back sometime. Plant some irises.

It was nice to have a home again, I thought dreamily, staring up at the white, normal-height ceiling while spread-eagled in my enormous bed. Cass was sprawled out on his own bed – formerly the consort's bed – with all his limbs fitting. He had a smile on his face, the sort people wear when their entire day has been wonderful. I was smiling, too. I couldn't help it.

S-L-E-E-P-W-E-L-L , I wrote on my arm.

He let out a happy sigh, and I sighed with him, his smile warm on my face. Y-O-U-T-O-O , came the response, drawn on the back of his hand.

Yeah , I thought, closing my eyes. I liked having a home.