Chapter 6

The sky was streaked with rich oranges and reds, the east dark over the mountaintops and the sun touching the horizon in the west when they finally left the airfield. A cool breeze blew across the pier, making Caris glad for the fitted coat she wore over her long-sleeved blouse and corset belt.

"Mother promised to hold the evening meal until we arrived. It will only be family tonight," Lore said.

Caris was looking forward to a meal where war wasn't the topic of conversation. "Sounds lovely."

They walked down the pier away from the last airship they'd overseen the loading of, flanked by Royal Guards. That airship was going to launch tomorrow morning rather than risk a night flight and landing. Cities and towns were much more strict about gate closures these days. Revenants were more numerous now than they had ever been before, their numbers helped along by the death-defying machines Daijal employed, fed by debt slaves and the dead left on the battlefields.

But no sirens wailed a warning, and no sense of urgency filled the air of everyone trekking back into Cosian. Most of the airfield workers had finished their shift, and the stragglers were making their way toward the safety of the gates and the soldiers manning it. The young woman with lieutenant pins on her uniform's collars drew up smartly when Caris and Lore stepped into her queue. Her eyes widened a bit in the gas lamp light, and she snapped off a quick salute. "Your Royal Majesty."

"Just Caris, if you please," she said lightly, already shrugging one arm free of her coat to better tug aside the collar of her blouse. "How's your shift been?"

"Well enough."

The skin over Caris' collarbone was unmarked, no vivisection scars to be seen and no hidden, sewn-on veil snagging on her nails when she dragged her fingers over her skin. The spell-detecting devices installed over the arched gates remained quiescent, the clarion crystals there a faint hum in her ears. The lieutenant nodded her approval for Caris to pass and put Lore through the same inspection.

Their motor carriages waited for them on the street beyond the gate. Maurus opened the door of one for her, and Caris climbed in with the aid of his hand. Lore followed after her, and Maurus shut the door before settling himself behind the steering wheel.

"The Auclair estate for us both," Lore said.

Maurus nodded before undoing the brake and driving forward, gas lamp headlights shining the way over cobblestone streets. The ride was a little bumpy, as it always was, and Caris was tired from a long day of work. She didn't mind the lack of conversation for the moment, knowing more would be had at the coming dinner table.

The Auclair bloodline's ancestral home was to the southwest of Cosian, Veran currently a major launching point for the Ashion war effort despite the town's small size. When Caris had decamped to Cosian last year, the Auclairs had followed. The duchess had spent her life being in the thick of politics, and her expertise was greatly needed when it came to diplomatic efforts. Once the old queen's spymaster, Meleri had taken up the leadership role of Fulcrum in the Clockwork Brigade, working against Daijal's permissive attitude toward debt bondage. Her seat in parliament had been filled by her oldest daughter, Lady Brielle Auclair, whom no one had heard from since last summer.

Politics was deeply entrenched in the Auclair bloodline, and people tended to listen to Meleri. Caris had learned much about politics and what it meant to be a lady as well as a cog when she'd been the duchess' ward while attending Amari's Aether School of Engineering. Despite the secrets Meleri had kept from her, Caris still respected the duchess. With her own parents prisoners of war, she had no family save that which she built, and she was reluctant to give up any of them.

Still, Cosian was a long way from the fashionable capital. The Auclairs had chosen to borrow an estate from another absent bloodline, the manor home nowhere close to the grand one in Amari or the one in Veran. Meleri's servants hadn't bothered changing up the décor, though they had flown their own heraldic flag displaying their bloodline's coats of arms from the post on the roof.

Meleri had gifted Caris a heraldic flag when she'd settled in Cosian last year, the colors that of the Rourke bloodline rather than the Dhemlan bloodline. Caris had yet to fly any above the home she'd shared with her parents when she was younger and which now felt haunted with memories.

Soldiers guarded the Auclair home in Cosian the same way they guarded Caris'. A few of the soldiers on duty wore the uniform of the Royal Guard. All of them came to attention as the motor carriage rolled up the drive and stopped in front of the home's entrance. The gas lamp on the porch flickered, casting a soft glow over the man who waited there.

Caris' heart lightened at the sight of Nathaniel, a smile coming unbidden to her lips. She unbuckled her lap belt and exited the motor carriage without aid, hurrying to the porch. When she reached Nathaniel, he caught her up in his arms in an embrace that made all her tiredness and stress wash away.

"I missed you," she said, holding him close and breathing in the scent of him.

It was improper for him to kiss her in public, despite the fact that Lore could conceivably be considered their chaperone. Caris was an adult—her birthing day had been celebrated by everyone in this very home last month—and had been for quite some time now. But propriety and the unspoken rules of manners her mother had desperately tried to teach her over the years meant Caris was considered by high society as someone who still needed social guidance.

With her newfound ancestry, that social guidance had become something of a prison, in her opinion. Being queen came with many requirements she didn't have time for during the war efforts. What use did she have for a court when there was no palace to see them in? What use did she have for ladies-in-waiting when the social interactions had been replaced with meetings with military officers and high-ranking nobility more worried about the enemy at their borders than a ball?

But Meleri had been insistent she create a court because every Ashion ruler listed out in the royal genealogies had overseen one. It made her seem the queen, even when she didn't quite act like one. Lore had taken up duties as Caris' lone lady-in-waiting, which consisted of mostly continuing on as she had been. She lived in Caris' home these days, a permanent chaperone if anyone asked, but more a friend than anything else.

Nathaniel stood outside everything these days, even as he'd made a home in her heart. Caris knew it was for everyone's safety, including her own, but she still wished she could confide in him about the things that weighed on her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, listening to the quiet workings of his clockwork metal heart and the clarion crystal song, finding comfort in the way it still beat.

Nathaniel's lips brushed over the top of her head, the ghost of a kiss she wished she could feel on her lips. "How was work, my darling?"

"Worth the effort," Caris said as she reluctantly pulled back.

He reached up and tucked one of her curls behind her ear before touching his fingertips to the side of her face. "The duchess has the meal ready on the table if you are hungry."

"Famished."

She slid her hand over the bend of his elbow and let him lead her inside the home. It was warmer inside, brighter, too, with the gas lamps all turned up to their highest setting behind their clear glass coverings. A servant took her coat, and Lore's as well, with Maurus slipping off to confer with the officer left in charge of the home's security while he'd been gone.

Lore had been right when she said it was only a family meal, the long table set for five and no more. Meleri and Dureau were both already sitting at the table, though they stood at her entrance, a courtesy afforded her rank, when before, she would have been the one to curtsy to Meleri. Caris nodded at the show of respect, having long since given up on arguing they needn't stand on ceremony with her.

The duchess looked well, if tired. Her hair was trending more gray than her natural pale red and had been recently cut, the shortness a style she'd worn for years. Her dress was practical but still well made, the style something Caris had seen quite a few of the nobility still in Cosian requesting their tailors and seamstresses emulate. Caris favored trousers and utilitarian blouses with corset belts over dresses, finding them less constricting for the work she had to perform. She, too, had seen others her age wearing that style more and more.

Dureau smiled at her, the young man more like a brother to her than anything else these days. He went by the moniker of Locke in the Clockwork Brigade, in charge of code work once relegated to just the cogs but now shared with the military. He, like the rest of his family, knew how to keep secrets. He'd been in Veran all last week and only recently returned, and Caris was glad to see him.

"A telegram came for you today on the private wire," Dureau said, nodding at the folded missive near her place setting.

If it had pertained to the war effort, he would have given it to her after dinner, alone in the library where they had such conversations, while Nathaniel waited elsewhere in the estate. Which meant it was personal to her, and Caris had to refrain from immediately snatching it up. She managed to wait until Nathaniel pulled her seat out for her, and she sat before reaching for the paper. The block lettering was short, the words innocuous, but they left her feeling giddy nonetheless. "Blaine and Honovi will arrive tomorrow."

She missed Blaine, having long since forgiven him for the secrets he'd kept where her birthright was concerned. She hadn't seen him or his husband in months, the pair working to convince the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean to give aid to Ashion. So far, even with her envoys pleading their case, the ruling body of E'ridia hadn't budged. Caris didn't expect the two would be arriving with good news, but it would be lovely to see them again, and she wanted another look at Blaine's mechanical prosthetic.

Caris still felt guilty over the torture Blaine had endured when he'd been taken by Daijal during the attack on the Warden's Island. Honovi had led the rescue of him at Foxborough last summer, and Blaine had been immediately transported back to Glencoe once he was snatched from the enemy's hands. By the time he'd been well enough—both physically and emotionally—to travel, the winter storms had made passage over the Eastern Spine difficult and E'ridia had partially closed its borders.

They'd kept in touch by telephone and diplomatic letters and couriered the design for his mechanical prosthetic back and forth before autumn ended. No news that would endanger the war effort was ever shared, but she always cherished hearing his voice on the other end of a wire. She'd cut the first set of clarion crystals for him and only wished she could have done more, could have saved him from the horror of his brief captivity before he'd lost half his left arm.

"I'll have the servants make up a room for them here," Meleri said.

Caris set the telegram aside. "They can stay with me."

Meleri pursed her lips but didn't argue. "Very well. I'll have my secretary retrieve their flight itinerary from the airfield in the morning. I'll pencil in a meeting with General Votil in our schedules for two days hence."

"They may have no news."

"They'll have something to report either way." Meleri's gaze cut to Nathaniel, her lips firming ever so slightly before she pasted on a cheerful smile. "Come now, let's start the meal."

The roast chicken and vegetables, fresh bread, and crisp greens were plated family-style, as was typical in Cosian households. Dureau served his mother and himself while Caris and the others filled their own plates. It was how every meal had been spent when she lived with her parents, and the ache when she thought of them remained sharp.

Conversation was light and easy. Nothing about the war was touched upon, and Meleri was too deft of a conversationalist to fall into the trap of pauses and redirects. She kept the dinner conversation going in ways Caris would have failed at. Still, the meal was delicious, and the company was good. Having Nathaniel by her side was better than any dessert, which Meleri apologized for not having.

"There's still a sugar shortage going on for our province," Meleri said.

Farms were fenced off and guarded areas that tended to be less than half a day's travel from a city or town. Some of the ones that grew sugar grasses were outside Foxborough, and Daijal had burned most of those fields last autumn.

The tea that was served in place of a dessert carried its own kind of sweetness from the flowers it was made from. Caris enjoyed her cup and enjoyed the press of Nathaniel's knee to hers beneath the table even more.

By the time the meal was over and they were ready to depart, the clock on the wall chimed a late hour indeed. Caris gave Meleri a quick hug before Nathaniel helped her into her coat. "We'll be back tomorrow with Blaine and Honovi."

"Of course," Meleri said.

Maurus waited for them outside, the captain giving her a quick nod before opening up the door to the motor carriage that would take them home. Caris and Nathaniel took the back seat while Lore rode up front with Maurus.

Her family's estate wasn't very far from the one Meleri lived in. At this late an hour, only those out at local restaurants and pubs were on the street, the shops all closed up and most other people taking their meals at home. The motor carriage drove down the cobblestone street toward home, Caris' hand held in Nathaniel's for the entire way. They didn't speak, not until they exited the motor carriage and made their way inside. A maid greeted them in the small foyer with a quick curtsy and took their coats with deft hands.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Lore said.

She walked off, boot heels clicking against the floor. Maurus took his leave as well, heading toward the set of rooms the Royal Guard worked out of when coordinating her protection. Nathaniel offered Caris his hand again, mouth tugging upward at one corner. "Just us, it seems."

Caris laughed, gladly taking his hand and letting him kiss the back of it with warm lips. "I quite like that."

They went to her favorite spot in the home, what had once been her nursery and long since turned into a study room with a balcony that overlooked the back garden. The glass doors were closed and the curtains drawn, but the gas lamps burned bright when she turned them on, illuminating a room filled with books, folios, and a comfortable sofa that fit two easily enough.

Perhaps it wasn't proper to sit beside Nathaniel and curl in close, to let him wrap his arms around her and have his mouth press to hers. But it felt strangely good, made her stomach clench in a delicious way, though she never wanted more than that.

Nathaniel had always been respectful of her desires and boundaries, even when they were alone. He was ever the gentleman outside of the kiss. When they broke apart, Caris rested her head on his chest, over his clockwork metal heart, the sound of it beating an odd but welcome cadence in her ear. She could hear the hum of the clarion crystals that powered it, the song one she hoped would always be present.

He was self-conscious these days about the vivisection scars on his chest, always keeping his shirt buttoned up to his throat and his cravat securely knotted. The clarion crystal shards hanging from the necklace around Caris' throat were matched by the one Blaine wore on a necklace and the one embedded in Nathaniel's chest that he didn't know about. The pieces could track each other on a spelled map the way Meleri's metal map had done so for the cogs who traversed the catacombs back in Amari. Honovi had used his shard to find Blaine in Foxborough last year, and Caris intended to find Nathaniel if he was ever lost to her again.

His hand stroked up and down her arm, the light touch comforting as she listened to him breathe. "You yawned quite a bit during dinner. I don't want to keep you up too late."

Caris reached up to frame the side of his face, stroking her thumb over his cheek. "I like spending time with you."

Nathaniel turned his head so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. Everyone kept insisting she shouldn't be with him, that Nathaniel was a danger to herself and so many others. Caris knew otherwise. The one and only time he'd ever put his hands on her to harm, it hadn't been him. When one was bound by the compulsion of a rionetka, they weren't themselves. In his right mind, Nathaniel could never hurt her.

His hand settled over her shoulder, anchoring her against him. "The broadsheets aren't as optimistic as they used to be. I know you can't speak of what's going on with the war effort with me, but the public could do with some good news."

Caris closed her eyes. "We all could."

The Ashion army was doing its best, but Eimarille had played a very long game indeed with her death-defying machines, stolen automaton war designs, and the favor of a star god. Some days, Caris wasn't sure how she could ever hope to compete with the woman who was her sister in name and bloodline only. They were nothing alike, she and Eimarille, the same way Caris knew she wasn't like the brother that Blaine swore was alive.

For all the wardens she had met over the past many months, Caris had yet to meet the one who'd once been a prince.

"You're giving people hope with what you're doing. I don't mean to dismiss that," Nathaniel said softly.

Caris reached for his other hand and tangled their fingers together. "Hope isn't enough."

Winning would be, but all her prayers toward that had so far gone unanswered by the North Star.