LIO BREATHED THE WIND that blew from deeper in the woods. He could smell the doe in the spruce thicket,
who was sleeping off his draught from her, and the vestiges of magic on one of the ruins up the path.
No chance of catching Lady Cassia’s scent if she approached from the palace.
This time it was sound that revealed her first. He heard the distinctive blood flow not of an animal,
but a human, one whose pulse beat quickly from exertion. The beat of a liegehound’s heart was there
too, along with the rustles of two feet and four paws moving around a great deal in the underbrush.
How fortunate that Lio was the one to discover their very obvious presence. Anyone else might
end the night with his throat no longer intact. Then again, it might be too much for Lio to assume his
throat was safe, either. He could only hope his truce with Lady Cassia still held, and she would once
more persuade her hound not to indulge his natural inclination to make a meal out of any Hesperine he
saw.
Lio found them in the clearing by the old stone fountain and paused just within the shelter of the
trees, stilling his body and breath. Lady Cassia was engaged in a vigorous wrestling match with her
hound. The dog had his teeth around some kind of training lure that appeared to consist of the
combined remains of a sheep and an untold number of pheasants, tied together with rags purloined
from the corpse of some unfortunate knave.
As Lio watched, the hound left off the mundane prey and swiveled to face precisely where he
stood.
Lady Cassia did not startle, only grew very still, as if trying to make herself stone. With her hands
on her dog, she glanced over her shoulder in Lio’s direction.
His heart pounding, Lio held fast to his veil, but met the dog’s gaze. A bark erupted from Knight’s
barrel chest. Lio realized he had no idea what body language to display to a dog to indicate he was
not a threat. He should have let Mak and Lyros talk him into defense training after all. Didn’t they
have specific strategies for dealing with liegehounds?
Lady Cassia put her mouth near the dog’s ear and murmured words in that language only he seemed
to understand, which Lio had never encountered in any of his studies. Knight returned his attention to
her. It appeared only one thing was stronger than the hound’s blood-deep enmity with Hesperines: his
devotion to his lady.
She leaped to her feet, brandishing the lure again. When Knight lunged, Lio jumped. But it was the
lure that was the hound’s target. He won the mess from Lady Cassia’s grasp and vanquished it,
shredding fleece and feathers. At last he sprawled with his now thoroughly dead prey trapped
between his paws. He panted, casting saliva and tufts of down from his jaws, and looked to his lady
for approval. She knelt down beside him and stroked his fur, praising him with more warmth than Lio
had yet heard in her voice.
This time Lio cleared his throat to warn her of his approach. She looked his way again. Her eyes
and smile were cool and composed in comparison to the emotion she had just displayed toward
Knight.
Lio strode out to join her, dropping his veil. She stood as he approached. Her skirt was covered in
grass stains and dog hair. The natural scents of animal and night air that clung to her made her smell
like something that lived wild and thrived here. But her body was poised with wariness, as if she
were accustomed to being hunted.
Lio slanted a gaze at Knight. The hound did not bare his teeth, but lowered his head to gnaw on the
lure as if that served as enough of a warning.
“Now I see the reason for your nighttime expeditions,” Lio said. “Only the woods are a large
enough playground for Knight, here. I was not the reason you came out at all.”
“Do not take it personally.”
“Too late. I am already gravely wounded. But comforted by your mere presence.” He gave her an
overly artful bow. “Which I sorely missed at the negotiations.”
“If you expected to see me there, then I fear you must have been disappointed indeed.”
“Certainly I was. Who made the dreadful mistake of not inviting you?”
“If you think my name alone qualifies me for an invitation, you do not understand what that name
means.”
“No, Lady Cassia, I think I begin to.”
She reached down and dusted a bit of fleece off her skirts. “You Hesperines know all sorts of
things, don’t you? It is said you read minds.”
“We are perceptive. That doesn’t mean we go around harvesting people’s thoughts, any more than
we steal their blood. But apparently we are not perceptive enough to know a great deal about you.
Not even your name or that you were here at Solorum.”
If that surprised her, she didn’t show it. She did meet Lio’s gaze again. He hoped that was a sign
his confession put her more at ease. By admitting his people were one step behind where she was
concerned, he might be able to reduce her sense of threat.
Her gaze darted about them. “It is said you walk unseen anywhere you please.”
“No Hesperines walking about unseen tonight,” he assured her. He gestured at himself. “Just your
visible champion.”
She studied him. Lio had been scrutinized a great deal tonight: by a king, dozens of free lords, the
entire Hesperine embassy, and especially Uncle Argyros. Lady Cassia’s gaze was the most unsettling
and the most pleasant. He felt it from head to toe.
She tilted her head. “Your companions leave you to dine alone?”
“No matter, for I have discovered what fine company there is to be had on the grounds. Although I
wasn’t sure I would see you here again.”
“Nor was I.”
“I see.”
“Now that we meet again, however, I am reminded of a few more questions I wanted to ask you.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling. “I thought you could hardly be satisfied with my answer.”
“Were you with my question?”
“Of course not.” He smiled still more, careful to keep his lips closed, then not to open them too
wide when he spoke. “But I was unsure whether you trusted me enough to ask for more.”
“Trust is not something I consider relevant to me. However, I don’t believe you’ll cause me harm.
It is in both our interests that no one knows we ever spoke.”
Now he studied her. Her brows were level, her chin set beneath thin lips. Her petite nose had a
natural upturn to it. “I do believe you are becoming more and more honest with me, Lady Cassia.”
“First trust, now honesty. Do Hesperines ascribe great importance to such things?”
“Do you not?”
“I think words need not be honest to be mutually beneficial, informative, or productive.”
“I see you are indeed accustomed to battling monsters. Please remember, Lady—there are none
here tonight.”
She cast a glance in the direction of the palace, but said no more.
“You are right,” he pressed on. “I would never let it reach your father’s ears that you were here.
And I trust you wouldn’t expose a young Hesperine who first approached you thinking only that a
woman alone after dark in such a place as this might need protection.”
Her mouth quirked, suggesting she had a ready answer, but she did not give it.
Lio smoothed the silence. “After all, I am right where I am expected to be. We have been given
leave to drink from the king’s game while we’re here.”
Now came her remark, and it was all her smile had promised. “To protect the populace from your
rampant bloodlust, naturally.”
“You do not appear concerned about my bloodlust in the least, Lady Cassia. You wound me again.
I thought I had such great powers of intimidation.”
“I am sure the deer feel quite intimidated.”
“Ah, I have no hope of recovering my image now...truth be told, they seem to have deemed me
quite harmless. They’ve been very friendly.”
She gave him a thoughtful glance. “You drink from their throats? Here?” She put a hand to her
neck, right over her jugular.
Lio stared at her hand. An audacious hand, one that dared him and demanded a response. Just when
he began to gain his footing with her, she challenged him again. It drove him to challenge her. “Does
that disturb you?”
“No.” She let her hand drop, but the sight of her bare, freckled throat was no less beckoning.
He made himself look at her face, but he was still too aware of the little shadow under her chin,
the moonlight on her neck. Most of all, that brush of her fingers against her throat that demonstrated
her curiosity so fearlessly.
What had given rise to her lack of prejudice? It might prove unwise to test the limits of her
tolerance, but he could not let the question go.
Perhaps it was the deer blood that drove him to take risks. He must not let that cloud his judgment.
But it would prove wise, he reasoned, to get to the heart of her curiosity about his kind. She might
need help. Or she might prove helpful to his people. He would never know, unless he continued his
effort to draw her out.
“It puts the animal most at ease when you drink from it where it can see you,” he explained. “Some
are calmer than others and don’t object to a draught from the large vein here.” He mimicked her,
placing his hand on his own throat. “Other times we drink from the limbs. An important vein runs
here...” He gestured down his arm. “...and carries blood from the heart.”
“You’ve studied healing?”
“I am no healer as such. But all of us are required to study anatomy. How else would we know
how to minimize the discomfort for those from whom we drink, while also gleaning sufficient
nourishment?”
“You do not kill them.”
“Absolutely not. It is a human notion that we drink creatures to their deaths. We are not predators.”
“You do not even hunt them.”
“Fear and suffering are abhorrent to us. Everything we do to those from whom we drink, we
experience with them in Blood Union. Why would we want to make them suffer? Even if we did, our
own power would exact justice on us for it.”
“Some people take pleasure in others’suffering. But it is clear your kind do not.”
Lio would have treasured such a declaration from any human. But he appreciated how much more
it meant from she who had survived a lifetime as Lucis’s daughter. She knew the meaning of the
words she spoke. “I rejoice that you realize this, Lady Cassia.”
“You do not drink from the fallen,” she said. “I gather it is the blood of the living you prefer.”
“Only living blood has any power to nourish us. Despite the myths about us raiding freshly dug
graves, the fact is, we gain no sustenance from a person’s remains. I cannot imagine tasting death in
that way.” Lio shuddered. Seeing and smelling death was enough.
“The rites the Order of Hypnos performs upon the dead to discourage you from disturbing them are
a great deal of wasted effort.”
“We are not the reason those spells are necessary. It is lawless necromancers who desecrate
mortal remains to fashion the bloodless, the undead in whose veins nothing more flows.”
A slight furrow appeared on her brow. “You do not relish death, and yet it would be so easy for
you to cause it. It must be difficult for you. When you are drinking blood, is it hard to stop?”
It should not have been difficult for Lio to stay focused during their conversation, as extraordinary
as it was. But his thoughts veered, taking her words entirely, inappropriately out of context. His
instincts awoke to the more pleasant implications of her question.
There were situations when it was hard to stop, of course. But that had nothing to do with death
and all to do with pleasure.
“That’s not how it is at all,” he said firmly. “It is physically impossible for a Hesperine to bleed
someone to death. As we drink, our bodies’ natural regenerative properties enter the mortal’s
bloodstream, assisting his or her body in replenishing itself. The healing process always keeps pace
with the blood loss.”
“Humans really are ignorant,” Cassia said. “And yet you prefer our blood, such as we are. Or is
that a myth as well?”
Heat spread through his veins. Thirst. Already. This should not be happening. “We never subject
any human to the Drink who is not willing. It is against our most sacred laws.”
“So it is the blood of willing humans that you prefer?”
What was wrong with him? The deer had already provided for him tonight. Although they might
not be ideal, they should be adequate. But he was actually salivating.
He swallowed. “I will not deny humans who are generous enough to provide for us offer optimal
sustenance. Animals are quite sufficient, however.”
More composed than he, she listened to him describe the Drink.
“It truly does not disturb you,” he said in wonder.
“No.”
“Lady Cassia, how did you come to have such an unusual perspective?”
“Ah, you know answers to such questions come at the cost of an equal trade.”
“I have answered all your questions.”
“They were questions you wanted to answer.”
He looked at her askance, resisting the urge to reach up and loosen the collar of his robe. “You are
not wrong. It is a relief to discover any Tenebran who knows my people are not throat-ripping, child-
stealing monsters.”
“Bulls on the temple steps do not survive their encounters with the sickle, unlike the deer that meet
with your teeth. I do not see that drinking the blood of a live deer is any more barbaric than hounding
a boar into the ground, slaying it, and parading its roasted corpse to the banquet table.”
He winced. “Prescient observations.”
She shrugged. He sensed that shrug all the way to her blood. “Something must die for mortals to
live. Even the animals. The deer will consume an entire crop and starve the farmer if given the
chance. It is the way of things.”
“Is that what your life here has taught you to believe?”
“I am hardly discussing matters of faith. Merely facts of existence.”
“It need not be so.”
She appeared unconcerned, but he caught the note of bitterness in her veins. “Is it so much easier
for you?”
“No, it isn’t easy at all.” Lio sat on the edge of the fountain’s basin.
Her gaze followed his every move. She knew so much, and yet still had unanswered questions.
Still watched for the dangers of what was unknown to her.
“Our way of life is an ideal we strive to achieve every night,” he said. “We do not always reach it,
but I believe that in the striving, we still achieve much. Suffering only comes when there is a
failure...a falling short. But it can always be changed. Even forces that seem the most fundamental
can be overcome.”
“Such philosophy! I feel you are about to initiate me into some kind of Hesperine secret.”
“No secret. Just principles I hold close to my heart.”
“Forgive me. I do not mean to make light of something so important to you. Please understand,
philosophy has never done me any good.”
“Certainly not when it is used against you.”
“I feel you have another philosophical declaration waiting on the heels of that remark.”
He was hardly fit to debate philosophy at the moment. His teeth ached in his gums, and the rush of
his own pulse in his ears made his head pound. But he could not miss this opportunity. “Take
philosophy in hand. Turn it to your advantage.”
“Women are not philosophers.”
He snorted. “You’re having this conversation with me.”
“A woman, armed with philosophy? If I entered a war tournament carrying the finest steel blade,
the men would take one look at my weapon, call it a wooden practice sword, and laugh me off the
field.”
Lio almost didn’t catch himself before he grinned. “With that insightful commentary, you have just
proved that women can indeed be philosophers.”
“Very well, then. I give you leave to imagine I am a philosopher and to answer me as such. Tell me
more of your ideals. What is life like in Orthros?”
Such a vast request. Such a welcome invitation. He must endeavor not to accept too gladly.
“There are many questions within that single one, Lady Cassia. Do you have so much to bargain in
return?”
“As I said, what is willingly given requires no compensation.”
Lio shook his head. “I fear I must insist. I will answer your question...if you will come here
tomorrow night and ask it of me again.”
Frustration heated her blood, held in check by caution. The Light Moon cast her face in a spectrum
of silvers, while the crescent of the Blood Moon brought out the red on her cheeks. From exertion?
From the pace of their debate? The blood that flushed her face taunted him with the knowledge he had
nothing more than deer to look forward to for weeks on end.
The realization struck Lio, heating him with thirst and denial. He had actually just thought of Lady
Cassia in that way.
He must not stay long enough to answer her question tonight. He took a step back.
His unconscious gesture appeared to affect her like a signal that he was leaving, or that he was
giving ground. He heard the debate in her blood and found himself guilty of listening too closely. She
wrestled with herself as if his step backward might make him disappear before she had a chance to
make her next move. He felt her dilemma as if it were his own, the abrasion of struggle with oneself,
of wariness of a mistake. Or perhaps it was his own.
“You have time to think on it,” he said. “Give me your answer tomorrow eve at the prince’s
festival. I am sure if I received an invitation to that, then so did you.”
“The embassy was invited to Caelum’s temple day celebration?”
Lio nodded. “There are to be no negotiations. The feast and music are both after nightfall. The king
is apparently willing to risk us as dinner guests.”
He might have smiled to remind her it was a jest, but he did not feel at all like smiling, and least of
all like giving her a glimpse of how far out of his swollen gums his fangs had now unsheathed. Why
could he not utter the word feast without thinking of it in an entirely different context?
“Can you tolerate mortal fare?” she asked.
Lio cleared his throat, putting a hand to his mouth. When he was certain he would not indulge
whatever curiosity she might entertain about the length of Hesperine fangs, he answered her with
facts. “We can eat and drink most human food and beverages, provided nothing suffered and died to
produce them. Our bodies simply absorb them without gaining nourishment.”
“Can you taste them?”
Lio’s mouth watered. “Yes. Hesperines enjoy culinary experiences.” He cleared his throat again.
“At the celebration, you can verify my claims by observation.”
“Agreed,” she said. “I will give you my answer tomorrow eve.”
Lio bowed, and this time it was he who walked away first. Just at the edge of the clearing, he
concealed himself from her sight. The last thing he listened to was her gasp of surprise at his
disappearance. He went to find another deer.