Chapter Thirteen

Beneath the Table

When the Royal family had something to celebrate, then everyone in the district knew about it.

Fairly soon after we returned, every tavern in gossiping distance of the Great Castle knew the heroic tale of how Prince Balduin had hunted down the men who'd tried to assassinate him. They also knew of his mercy in sparing the life of Duke Wylder and taking in the duke's family, who had been so ill-used by the traitor. Such was the pride the royal family had in Balduin, the Old Queen decreed that a great banquet was to be held in his honor.

By now, I knew better than to ask Nicolo how he felt about Balduin being given credit for what Nicolo had done. He didn't care. He loved Balduin like a brother and understood how important it was that the young prince be regarded as a hero—Balduin wasn't a popular figure and this might help increase his likability. Once Balduin was king, this relationship would presumably continue, with Balduin taking all the credit while Nicolo did all the work, and it was this hidden power behind the throne that unnerved men like Wylder.

The other reason Nicolo didn't care was simpler; why should he? He already had everything any man could want except the freedom to leave, which he didn't seem to want anyway. All the truth would gain him was the esteem of people whose opinions meant nothing to him anyway. And while there was a benefit in Balduin being thought of as heroic and merciful, those qualities would damage Nicolo's image.

The Unbreakable preferred to be feared.

***

"There is a gift awaiting you in your room."

I blinked, surprised.

There had been a distance between Nicolo and myself in the days following our return from the outskirts. It was a distance I was starting to believe was undoing much of the good work I'd done in getting close to him. I imagined this rift between us was likely down to Nicolo's annoyance at how our almost-night together had ended, that he was still angry I hadn't allowed him a release, but had preferred to keep teasing him, which had, in the end, left him frustratingly unfulfilled. Or perhaps it was owing to the fact that I was still a maid, which apparently bothered him, though I wasn't sure why. I hadn't pictured Nicolo for the sentimental type who would care about such things but, clearly, I was wrong.

But I was also aware that perhaps I'd taken a step back from him, as well, even unconsciously. What I'd seen of Master Nicolo on that trip had left me with questions about him and his true nature; the ease with which he'd killed Wylder's man to get information, the ruthless way he'd used Wylder's family as pawns. Both situations could be viewed in favorable terms, but they also could be view in ruthless ones. I wasn't sure how much of it I would characterize as cruel, but it was a side to him I was just now seeing, even though the rumors of his terror had always existed. I was left with the understanding that I didn't truly know Nicolo—there were times when I thought I did, other times when I thought I was getting close to knowing him but truly, his actions still surprised me and that meant I didn't know him.

And, of course, he'd slapped me and though he'd apologized, the sting still remained.

Yet now he was offering me a gift?

"Thank you, Master."

"It's a gown," Nicolo explained and his lips turned up into a small smile. "I want you to come to the banquet honoring Balduin, as my guest, and much as I appreciate your usual style of attire, I prefer you to be dressed like a lady for the evening."

I was surprised he was inviting me as his guest, considering he seemed to give adequate regard to the difference in our social stature, but I said nothing about it. "Thank you, Master."

Nicolo gave me a rueful smile and then inhaled deeply as he held my gaze. It seemed there was something else on his mind.

"Is there more, sir?"

He nodded quickly. "I've been hard on you lately." He paused again. "Not everything that happened the night we shared a bed was at your instigation. And I'd be telling a falsehood if I said I didn't enjoy it… right until the moment when we were interrupted."

That was nice to hear but meaningless, because I'd already made up my mind to hurry this mission along. I'd already dawdled too long as it was. The time for action was nigh. "I'm sorry it ended when it did and how it did," I said, refusing to meet his eyes so he'd think I was blushing about the whole thing. "But I believe…" I sought for the right words, "…I believe we would have been happier if things hadn't… gone so far." Even though my comment came out a statement, it was more a question—something meant to give me an idea of where we now stood. Did he regret our near lovemaking?

Nicolo sighed. "We are in an unusual situation. Perhaps there's a good reason women are not permitted to be soldiers and squires and so on. I'd always thought it a stupid rule, but I now appreciate that it can cause… problems."

"Perhaps."

"I think it would be best," said Nicolo, "if we observed a more strictly professional relationship from now on." He breathed in deeply and nodded. "As of this moment forward, you are my squire and nothing more."

I didn't have to fake my disappointment because I felt it all the way down to my toes. For all that my opinion on Nicolo might have changed, my attraction hadn't and neither had the fact that I needed to kill him. And seducing him had definitely proven the best and easiest way to get him alone. Now that seduction was off the table…

But, alas, was seduction really ever off the table?

"If you think it best, Master."

"I do."

I nodded. "So, I will attend the banquet as…"

"A colleague, I suppose," he answered on a shrug. "I would rather not go alone, but I also intend to find myself a woman once I arrive." He cleared his throat as my stomach dropped. "Hence the need for our… association to be that of master and squire… only."

I hoped the hot flush of jealousy burning my cheeks wasn't too obvious, but I nodded all the while, well aware that Nicolo owed me no explanations. I told him as much.

"Because I respect you and… your feelings," he further explained. "I wanted to discuss as much with you."

I nodded again and was angry with myself—at the emotional reaction this news was having on me. Nicolo was my target, nothing more and nothing less. The more I forced that message home, the better I would be.

"I appreciate your respect," I answered in a soft voice.

"Try on the gown. Let me know if it doesn't fit or if you don't like it." He held up a hand. "Actually, let me know if it doesn't fit…" Then he smiled broadly. "I don't care if you don't like it, you'll wear it anyway."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked to my room with a cold empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and hot flushes passing across my skin like waves.

***

The dress, lying on my bed, was deep red, cut low in the bodice and fitted at the waist and hip before flowing down to the ground in numerous skirts. When I tried it on, I realized it fit me perfectly and as I looked in the mirror, I half-wondered who the beautiful girl was staring back at me. The other thing I noticed was the immense slit that ran up one of my thighs. It was difficult to notice as there were so many folds of fabric in the skirts, but I would have to be careful to keep from revealing too much flesh.

Yes, the gown was perfect. But it was pointless.

He no longer wanted me. He'd just made that abundantly clear—as to how he'd been able to turn his feelings off so quickly? I wasn't sure. Maybe they'd never been there in the first place. Maybe he truly was as cold as rumors claimed him to be.

I sat on the bed, feeling so frustrated, I could have clawed my own skin off. I ought to have been concerned that this whole setback would make my task so much harder, but I couldn't kid myself; that wasn't why I was feeling the way I was.

I had an itch I couldn't scratch and now it seemed Nicolo wasn't going to scratch it either. Instead, he planned on spending the evening scratching the itches of other women.

***

Two Days Later

The banquet was as impressive as I'd come to expect from the celebrations staged by the Great Castle.

While the days since Nicolo and I had talked about the nature of our ‘association' had done nothing to dispel the knot of frustration tied up in my belly, I still enjoyed walking through the doors of the hall beside him and seeing the extraordinary scene before us.

"I see the dress fits you," he'd whispered as made his acquaintance and he gave me a quick scan from head to toe.

I didn't care what he thought—I knew I looked stunning. With my golden hair falling around my shoulders in bountiful curls and the rouge and stain on my lips that matched the hue of the dress, I couldn't imagine a time I felt more beautiful. Perhaps the night of the masque…

Nicolo cleared his throat and his attention was no longer mine. I took my place beside him and we navigated the halls, directly behind Prince Balduin, who was offering everyone smiles of welcome as we entered.

Something had definitely changed between the two of us—there were no lingering gazes, no quick head-to-toes that attempted to go unnoticed. It was as if Nicolo had somehow turned off that part of him that felt attracted to me. And I had no idea how—maybe the intensity of his attraction to me had never been as great as mine to him?

As we walked into the Great Hall, my heart was somewhere around my feet and in an attempt to cheer myself up, I forced myself to take note of the incredible landscape of the room around me. The long tables were laid with silver cutlery and lit by golden candelabras. Seated along them were the nobility of the court and honored guests from further afield (some even from beyond the Gath), decked out in their finest; dazzling in their glittering colors like birds of paradise, all trying to outdo the other. Between the tables, stewards and maids darted in the brilliant red uniforms reserved for only the most celebratory of occasions.

In that moment, it felt as if the whole thing was in celebration of Nicolo, and in a way it was. It was his achievement that was being celebrated here tonight, and the fact that the credit had gone elsewhere only detracted slightly from how special everything felt.

In a small and secret way, I also reveled in the envious hatred being leveled at me by what felt like every woman in the room, from the lowest ranked maid to the highest ranked duchess (and at least two princesses in attendance). I was here with the master, and they all would have given years off their life to be on the receiving end of his attention, even if they were all equally terrified of him.

Of course, later in the evening, when things became more convivial, I would be the one staring enviously as he moved from woman to woman, picking the one with whom he would spend the night in sexual conquest. But for now, I enjoyed the feeling of being the only one.

Usually, Nicolo was seated to the right of his friend, but tonight, the prince was the guest of honor and so Balduin was seated on a level with the Old Queen, rather than to her right, as befitted the heir. As Nicolo was not to be associated with Balduin, he'd dropped several rungs, finding himself right at the end of the head table with various people who hated him. I wondered if there was another reason for shunting Nicolo out of the way like this; rumors were already circulating that it had been Nicolo, not Balduin, who had brought Wylder to heel, so it was sensible to make the master as inconspicuous as possible.

The one seat further from the center than Nicolo's was mine, just to his right, but I was still at the head table, and that was quite something for someone who'd been a maid not so long ago.

"Comfortable?" asked Nicolo.

"Yes. Thank you, Master." The isolation of where we'd been seated might work to my advantage as Nicolo had no one to talk to but me and I might be able to work my way back into his affections.

So, you can work your way into his bed and kill him, once and for all, I reminded myself. Not that I needed to—I was now determined to see my task to fruition, more so than ever before. This whole… situation had taught me a very valuable lesson and one I wouldn't need to learn again—I would never get attached to my target ever again. Frankly, I was ashamed of myself to know my emotions had intercepted my logic where Nicolo was concerned and if the Guild knew how I'd strayed, they would be as ashamed of me as I was of myself.

The stewards poured wine while the maids served the first course. Nicolo seemed largely uninterested in the food.

"Not hungry, Master?" I asked, not really interested, but still attempting to make conversation so he wouldn't notice the change in my feelings towards him. "I see you've barely touched your food."

"Not especially." When he answered, he didn't bother looking at me, but with his left hand, raised his wine glass to drink. I inhaled sharply as I felt him place his right hand on my knee, which was bare, owing to the large slit in the gown. Shock rode through me as I tried to understand what he was doing—hadn't he just told me our association needed to be professional only?

And, yet, he'd gone to some lengths to not only pick out this exact gown, but also to make sure you wore it, I pointed out to myself. Coincidence?

His hand began a slow, meandering journey up my thigh while Nicolo talked conversationally to me and did a good job of ignoring everyone around us, who were doing an equally good job of ignoring him.

"You have gotten to know me a little in the weeks you've been my squire, have you not, Charlotte?"

"Yes, Master," my voice trembled as his fingers trespassed higher up my thigh, pushing the material of my gown further up to my waist. When he reached the junction of my torso and thigh, he paused and began to massage the flesh of my upper thigh.

"You would say I was a man who paid his debts, who gives as good as he gets?" he turned to face me then and there was something in his eyes that made my breath catch. He held up his drink and downed it.

"Yes, Master." My voice seemed to have gone up an octave as his fingers began moving across my lower abdomen, towards my center. "Wh—what are you doing?" I whispered as I leaned into him, no longer able to understand his motivations.

"I owe you something," he whispered back, on a shrug. "I believe you know what I'm talking about."

I was immediately reminded of our time together when I left him… hanging. "Revenge?"

He chuckled and raised the glass to his lips, but not before looking at me dead in the eye, his narrowing. "I would be loath to call it revenge; simply payback."