Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Once inside the heart of the city, the two of them made their way to what must have been the Lower Garden. This was the same place Vaasa had seen all the people dancing and sharing food just yesterday. Though it wasn’t technically a garden, but was named thus because most fabric awnings were decorated with hanging plants of every color—blues, purples, reds, and greens seemed to light up the orange, red, and white buildings. They edged the Settara, white stone arching to give a view of the starlight on the lake. Inside the circular quad, settled in the epicenter of the busy area, were musicians. Notes from guitars and steel drums floated around them.

Beautiful.

The entire place was breathtaking, and if Vaasa let herself, she could have thought it was the most welcoming place she’d ever laid eyes on. Her father and her brother had been so scornful of this nation… but of what? The only difference between their people was that the Mirehans were happy. People roamed, most of them danced, and all laughed just as she’d seen before. The inviting sound of steel drums and guitar twisted something in her chest. What had these people done to deserve such happiness that her people had not?

As the bitter thought floated across her mind, so did the quick stab of regret. To like anything about this place was a waste—she would be gone the moment she could be.

Reid worked her out of her cloak and tossed it over a table near them. Threading his hand in hers, he tugged, heading into the thick of people in the middle. All eyes seemed to follow them, and heat crawled up her cheeks.

“What are we doing?” Vaasa asked, her earlier bitterness slipping into her tone as she scampered after him. Quickly, she smiled as if it had meant nothing and silently scolded herself.

Using his hand to force Vaasa into a turn, Reid glided them around a group of people and then placed that hand on her waist. He pulled her up against his broad chest and shifted his eyes to the surrounding crowd. “Dancing.”

What?

It felt as if every person in the quad was watching them.

The music hummed and people danced in communal circles, some groups tossing their partners around and weaving through the other dancers. Couples clung to each other. One drifted a hand over another’s torso and pulled her back against his chest. She pressed her body to him and leaned forward, swaying her backside on his hips.

Reid watched the way Vaasa inspected the couple, how her eyes trailed to the places the two touched, and he rumbled a low laugh.

Did he expect to touch her like that?

Tentatively, he reached for her hand. “It’s quite easy. Touch me here.” His hand slowly lifted hers along his torso, past the drapes so her nails skimmed his bare skin and settled it against his chest. “And here.” Keeping their gazes locked, he did the same with the other, this time placing her fingers just beneath the hair at the nape of his neck. “Good.” His hand pressed into the curve of her hip, flirting with the waistline of the higher-cut breeches. “Swing your hips for me.”

He moved slowly, giving her the time to step away if she preferred, but she held firm in their contact. He’d more than fulfilled his half of their deal today, and with the eyes of his city on them, she felt a low tightening in her abdomen. A surprising willingness to be what he needed her to be. To the tune of the drums, she moved left and then right, and he guided her with his hand, the other raising to twine his fingers with hers at his chest.

A small smile started to creep along her lips, and his eyes flicked down to it.

Spinning and then pulling her back, Reid moved his hands from her waist and up and down her sides, moving her to the music in a way she had never been moved before. He led her through the echoes of steel drums without effort, looking irritatingly damned graceful while he did it. He guided her into each step, so all she had to do was follow him. With his guidance, there wasn’t a single moment she missed.

Something in her gut twisted, not magic this time as Reid gripped her hand and tossed her from him just far enough to spin, as if displaying her for the crowd. His fingers trailed on her waist and caught her side, gripping and tugging until her back pressed to his chest—just like that couple had been.

She froze, missed a step. He wrapped his arm all the way around her waist to make her misstep seem intentional. Warm breath coasted to her ear. “Dance with me like lovers do.”

Bending his head forward, he let his lips brush her neck.

People noticed. Some of them whispered.

Most likely about her recent absence. Or maybe about the way they looked right now.

I need Icruria to believe that we are taken with each other. That our union is strong enough to represent them.

On the edge of the circle, Vaasa noticed Kosana standing with an unfamiliar group of people. The blonde took a long sip of her wine, though even from afar, Vaasa thought the poor goblet was stuck in a death grip.

Vaasa had to sell this. To make everyone around them believe this mattered, that it was real. That when the time came, it would be the two of them working for the betterment of Asterya and Icruria.

Together.

So she raised her arm the way she’d seen another woman do and curled it around his head, fingers sliding into the mass of his hair. Reid laughed against her skin and slid his hand over her stomach, whispering, “Just like that.”

The music lilted and sped, and she matched the pace, loosening the way she danced beneath his hands and giving in. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together, until he moved her forward and she ground against his hips. His hands guided her back into the motions, swinging in unison. And out of the corner of her eye, she watched Kosana plunge into the crowd.

The tempo shifted, and he seamlessly spun her once more, so she was pinned to his chest, having no option but to tilt her head up to look at him. “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, hands pushing Vaasa’s back into his hair like he enjoyed the feel. Strands had come loose and now hung in his face, framing his sturdy jawline.

Throat dry, probably from the heat and the exercise, Vaasa nodded.

Reid led her from the center of the quad and through the massive groups of people, all greeting them or watching her closely, until they reached an outdoor pub. Plenty of people were strewn along chairs and tables, all wearing clothes like Vaasa’s and Reid’s and deep in conversation. She picked up bits and pieces of what they said but didn’t focus on much—not past how tightly Reid gripped her hand as they moved through the crowd.

After Reid retrieved two glasses of wine, Kosana appeared, not looking particularly happy. The commander of Mireh’s forces wore one side of her long hair braided back, sun-kissed white skin on display down her neck and chest. Sheer, powder-blue pants covered her hips, split, and then met again at her knees, where they split once more before bunching at her ankles. This breezy Icrurian fashion was foreign to Vaasa, but admittedly, it did wonders for Kosana’s muscular legs.

She looked nothing like a guard, though. Was that not her role this evening? Vaasa enjoyed the sour pinch of the commander’s lips, so she took a sip of the sweet wine and followed Reid to a table, where he sat without regard for how much space his body took up. Legs a little bit apart, arm draped casually over the wooden top, he looked like some strange mix between an irreverent god and a decorated warrior.

With mischievous eyes, Reid tugged at Vaasa’s waist and dragged her into his lap, laughing at her rigidity and how she almost spilled her wine. “Like lovers,” he reminded her on a whisper, his lips at her ear.

Vaasa’s breath hitched, but then she settled into his chest like she belonged there.

His hand rested against her stomach as he looked beyond her, nodding at a few people who walked by and said hello in greeting. Kosana slid into the chair opposite him and looked out at the crowd, taking another long gulp of her wine, eyes falling to other couples who seemed just as closely embraced as them.

“Commander,” Reid teased her.

“Foreman,” she grumbled back.

Reid made Vaasa adjust her weight and kick up her long legs, folding them over one of his and settling her into his lap more naturally. One arm around his neck, she slid her fingers into his hair again, and like the fantastic performer he was, he leaned into her touch.

“How long have you known each other?” Vaasa asked Kosana, flicking her eyes to Reid. “You two seem quite familiar.”

Swallowing her wine, Kosana said, “Since we were children. Melisina was practically my mother, too. I heard you met her today.”

Mother?

Everything in Vaasa’s chest constricted. “What?”

Reid froze, the glass at his lips, and then lowered it. “She didn’t tell you.”

Eyes steady, Vaasa peered around the outdoor tables. Some people watched, and it should have made her a little afraid, but it was the amused smugness of Kosana that lit a fire in Vaasa’s chest. “Melisina Le Torneau is your mother?” she demanded of Reid.

His mother would know what she had done to him. Would know that she had almost killed —

“Yes,” he said. “I thought she would tell you. Certainly, one of the witches would have said something.”

Fingers gripping tightly around her glass, Vaasa said, “It didn’t come up.”

How could she ever go back now? Just when she thought she’d found the one place in the universe that Reid of Mireh didn’t seem to have a hold on—

With good reason, Melisina Le Torneau should have hated Vaasa.

Why had she been so kind ?

“Don’t worry, Vaasalisa,” Kosana said then, flicking a strand of her hair from her shoulder and spinning sugar in her tone, a falsehood that practically swelled with distaste. “Melisina is forgiving .”

Reid froze for a moment, the undertones of the comment not missing their mark.

Could Melisina really forgive Vaasa for what she’d done to Reid on their wedding night? For taking the chance at a true, blissful marriage from her son?

Kosana clearly hadn’t.

But those were questions only Melisina could answer.

Milking it for all it was worth, Vaasa grinned and pulled Reid’s hand down to rest upon her thigh. Threading their fingers, she took a much-needed sip of her wine. “Good. I think I like the Sodality of Setar better than Una. It matches the temple Reid and I were married in.” Blushing and shrugging her shoulder, she mocked Kosana’s tone. “In fact, it matches our bedroom.”

Kosana flinched.

“Is all this normal?” Vaasa gestured to the three of them, trudging past it like she didn’t know she had upset the commander. “For the foreman to just be out and about?”

“He does whatever he wants,” Kosana muttered.

“It’s normal,” Reid said, eyeing both women as if he expected a brawl. “Kosana commands my forces, but she is also the closest thing to a guard I have allowed.”

“He should consider allowing me to assign him real protection,” Kosana said. “Especially given his recent choices.”

Vaasa started to sit up, but Reid gripped her tighter. “I don’t need protection,” he said.

“You will when you are headman.”

“I thought he did whatever he wanted,” Vaasa prodded.

The commander narrowed her eyes, looking Vaasa up and down much like an ornery hawk prepared to dive at the surface of the Settara with claws outstretched.

Reid looked between the two women, lips pursing and then turning up into a satisfied grin. The sort that meant he had an idea. “Perhaps. Which is why you, Vaasalisa, will start combat training with Kosana tomorrow.”

Vaasa’s stomach dropped at about the same time Kosana sat straight up. “What?” the blond woman asked.

“No,” Vaasa objected.

“I thought I did whatever I wanted,” Reid muttered, taking another sip of his wine.

Kosana scoffed in frustration, and it might be the only thing she and Vaasa agreed on. Turning to look at him, her fingers still in his hair, Vaasa asked, “Do you really believe I cannot defend myself?”

Those haunting images—her, him, knives—seemed to course between them.

Reid smiled like the devil, his thumb beginning to do lazy circles along her abdomen. “Oh, I am quite familiar with your propensity for a blade, Wild One.”

“None of this is necessary,” Kosana said.

Turning to look at his commander, Reid didn’t relent, his circles on Vaasa only going lower, causing knots in her stomach to form. “You are one of the most skilled warriors in Icruria, perhaps the continent, and you are my best friend. She is my wife. I don’t want a guard around all the time, so train her like you would a Mirehan, please.”

A look passed between the two of them—a deep-seated familiarity Vaasa neither understood nor cared to understand. Dripping with incredulity, Kosana sighed and nodded her concession.

“Reid.” Vaasa tried to dissuade him, though she almost croaked as his hand dipped lower. Almost pulled herself from his touch.

He shook his head. Met her eyes, entirely uncompromising. “You can meet with Kosana before you go to the sodality when it’s still cool outside, or you can try your luck in the heat.”

The boldness of this man. The audacity . She started to speak again, but he leaned forward and nipped at her ear.

Vaasa’s fingers tightened ruthlessly in his hair.

Something hardened beneath her.

Vaasa froze.

Grinning against her skin, he whispered, “Care to try that again?”

She could slap him. Could turn fully around and strangle him. But Kosana watched them with such anger and unrelenting coldness that Vaasa found herself crossing her ankles and taking a restrained sip of her wine. Looking directly at the commander, not at Reid, she said, “Does the morning work for you?”

She and Reid would discuss this later, in private, with the rest of her opinions. When she couldn’t feel him pressed against her backside.

Kosana’s fingers tightened on her goblet, but she jerked a nod and looked back out at the rest of the crowd.

No one said anything else of consequence, and when Reid seemed convinced the world believed their little game, he lifted her with ease back to her feet. “Let’s get home,” he said, and as they walked, they parted the ever-watching crowd.

“This is absurd,” Vaasa snapped from across the room.

Reid only gave an amused smile, watching her pace in front of the couch while he leaned back on his headboard, hands behind his head. Infuriating was the only word Vaasa could use to describe how smug he looked.

“Learn to get along, and you two will be fine,” he suggested.

“Learn to get along?” Kosana and she were not capable of such a thing. Stopping her pacing, Vaasa ducked behind the dressing screen and started dropping garments. “Is she in love with you?”

He barked a laugh. “She’s married. You’ll probably meet her wife tomorrow.”

All right, so Vaasa had read that entirely wrong. But not unfairly so—did friends defend each other the way Kosana defended Reid? And he had called her his best friend. “Was she the one who found you?”

“When?”

She walked out just then, reduced to wearing his damn shirt again. “Tied to your wedding bed, alone and bleeding.”

The little quirk of his mouth made Vaasa’s fingers twitch. “She did untie me, yes.”

Why did they have to pretend to be anything of importance to each other in front of Kosana, then? Vaasa looked away, settling herself upon the couch and curling the blankets around her shoulders again. He didn’t need to put on some show about caring for her safety. “She knows this is just an arrangement. We don’t have to pretend in front of her.”

“Insisting you can defend yourself isn’t pretending,” Reid remarked as if it were obvious.

“What do you mean?”

Lifting from the bed, Reid sat up and put his elbows on his knees. “I won my title honorably, but there are those who don’t like my position of authority. Those who would see me, and by extension, you, taken out before we can win the headmanship.”

“I’m not defenseless.”

“I know that well enough.”

“Then why?”

“Because while you are smart, cunning, and wickedly resourceful, you are not a warrior. That isn’t how your father trained you.”

The mention of her father, of her training, awoke violence in her gut. “What would you know of my training ?”

Eyes flicking up and down her body, he said, “I know you speak four languages, and that men threw themselves at your father to get you in their homes and their beds. Never once did he concede. Which means you were useful, and that he honed you no differently than a blade.”

Six . She spoke six languages. And the sort of versatility they’d taught her gave her a leg up on almost any dialect she encountered on this continent—roots remained the same, even if their context and slang changed. It came as no surprise that Reid had assumptions about what purpose she’d served her family’s empire. Of the secrets and councils she’d been made privy to. But she only ever translated, and she hadn’t been married off because to do so would leave someone alive who might kill her brother and take the throne. Tilting her head, she said, “Are you so certain of that?”

“I am,” he insisted. “Though I do wonder what else he taught you. That, and what you did to no longer be useful to your brother.”

Those words hit her like a blow to the stomach. “Perhaps I am more useful than you think.”

That brought him pause. “You know what I think?”

“Not much beyond your lap and your blade.”

Smirking at her jibe and slinging his legs off the bed, he admitted, “I do often consider my lap and blade. Particularly when you’re around.”

In a way, she’d brought that one upon herself. Rolling her eyes, she sank back further into the couch. Especially when he started to prowl across the room toward her.

“I have two theories. The first is that you know far less than you let on.” He gestured up and down at her. “That this act you have is nothing but a defense.”

Cocking her head, she let out one breathy laugh. “You think baiting me will get me to reveal my secrets to you?”

“People with the universe in their hands don’t hide so much.”

“People with the universe in their hands never show their palms.”

Reid sank to his knees directly in front of her and Vaasa’s breath caught. “Or second”—his hands curled into the blankets at her waist—“you know far more than you let me see. Perhaps your brother doesn’t stand a chance with you at my side. Maybe you are more dangerous than him.”

Vaasa didn’t dare say a word. She stared down at his hands, then back at his eyes, which assessed her through long lashes. Her heart started to pound. Where did he believe this was going?

Leaning closer, never breaking their stare, Reid said, “And maybe it is you who will be cold tonight.”

He hauled the blankets off her and she spun, tumbling off the couch and onto the floor with a wicked hiss. By the time the entire exchange registered and she whipped her head up, an Asteryan curse on her tongue, he was slipping back onto the bed and smoothing the blanket out.

He didn’t care about her safety at all. She was a toy, a source of leverage. An investment he felt obligated to protect.

“You’re an ass,” she snapped.

“You are welcome in this bed anytime, Vaasalisa.”

“Never.”

“Never say never. The days here may be warm, but as you know, nights can be brutal.”

She pushed herself off the floor with a faltering smile. “My father taught me to speak those languages because he intended to sell me to the highest bidder, and he didn’t know who would arrive with the coin. Which is why it astounds me that somehow I ended up under your roof.”

“He taught you Icrurian, didn’t he?” Reid leaned a little forward, holding the blanket between his hands. “He must have known I would be in the running.”

What an arrogant, foolish man. “Considering I’m only temporarily in your home and certainly not in your bed, I’d say you weren’t in the running at all.”

“You’re sleeping half naked on my couch, so I’d argue I’m still in the game.”

“What a feat, to only ever get a woman half undressed.”

“Come over here and I’ll rectify the situation,” he purred.

Scoffing and pushing open the door to the veranda, she said, “I’d rather be eaten by wolves.”

In the most audacious of tones she’d ever heard in her life, Reid blew out the candle next to the bed with a single sentence. “Call me a wolf whenever you’d like, Wild One.”

Oh, those words lit a fire in her. She spun and bared her teeth. “You are the most arrogant, pompous—”

“And you are the most insincere woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

It was like he’d thrown a brick with that sentence. But Vaasa only shrugged. “Like you said, it’s all an act.”

“Let me be clear. If Dominik wants something from my home, it would be in your best interest to share it. Right now. I walked into this prepared to defend you just as I would a consort I loved, but I would rather alienate the Asteryans and lose this election than allow you to risk the safety of my home.”

Dominik wants me dead, and you are just collateral. Cocking her head, she murmured, “I thought I wasn’t a good liar.”

Springing from the bed, he crossed the room in a few steps and backed her into the wall. He didn’t touch her, a choice, but his face was only a hairbreadth away. “What happened? Did we get too close? Did you almost enjoy yourself, and now you want to pick a fight?”

Silence. Angry breath pushed from her nose, but she kept her lips sealed.

“This is my line, Vaasalisa. Do not threaten my country.”

At any moment, her brother would walk into this pretty city and burn it to the ground. He might already be on his way.

But she couldn’t say that. Not if it meant Reid would send her away before she learned to control her magic—or worse, make a move for the Asteryan throne.

If he knew what their marriage really meant, he would never let her leave.

She met his shadowed stare through the darkness, the open windows the only source of light in the room as she lifted her body from the wall, stepping instead into his space. She was not afraid of him, and she never would be. “It isn’t a threat, it’s the truth. You don’t want an alliance with my brother.” And she didn’t want Dominik any closer to them than he already was.

“Why?”

“Because he is nothing but a viper, one who disguises himself as an ally and turns on you when you’re at your most vulnerable.”

“And are you just like him?”

Vaasa couldn’t say why, but the words struck her in the chest. They tore at all the scars she possessed, both on her skin and beneath it. The magic in her stomach yanked itself upright, coiled like the snake she accused her brother of being, ready to strike.

Of course she was just like him. Her father had trained her to be. He’d made her in his image, and this magic was only proof of that.

The most insincere woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Arching her back and pressing her lips to his ear as he’d done to her earlier, she whispered, “Yes. You don’t want to be involved with me, either.”

And then shoved him off her.

He stumbled backward and gaped at her, hatred threading like gold in his eyes.

She scoffed. “If you think for one second that a trade agreement with Asterya is beneficial, you are a fool. If you let my brother close to this city, he will make you regret it.”

Without another word, she grabbed her cloak and headed outside to sleep on an outdoor settee.

Let the wolves come and find her. Let them tear her limb from limb.

At least out here it was quiet, and she was finally alone.