FOR SOMEONE SO SKILLED at reading every minute cue in a person’s movements and tone, Cassia was
remarkably unaware Lio had just flirted with her.
He had debated the wisdom of speaking in such a way to her, but the lovely answer in her blood
proved well worth the risk. This could become...addictive. Saying something that embarrassed her,
making her blush, listening to her blood and the pounding of her heart.
His own blood pumped in his veins, awakened but unsatisfied. It was a good thing he had lingered
over the deer so long tonight.
Cassia looked away, calling to Knight. The dog loped toward them again with the stick trapped in
his jaws, and Lio reluctantly moved aside. Making over her dog, Cassia took hold of Knight’s prize
by the end with no drool on it. She threw the stick ahead into the darkness beyond the reach of the
spell light.
In the hound’s absence, Lio once more eased closer to Cassia on the path. How could she miss it?
She knew dalliance when she saw it. But perhaps the courting she received had only taught her to
watch for deceit, not to recognize sincere interest. Lio—a Hesperine, an ally, a genuine admirer—
was far outside the paradigm in which she strove to survive. It seemed she did not know what to make
of him.
She changed the subject. “The way you speak of your cousin Mak, it is clear the two of you are
good friends.”
“We are more like brothers than cousins.”
“Brothers are not always friends.”
Prince Caelum must have proved that to her on plenty of occasions. Lio gentled his tone. “That’s
true. I feel very grateful that in our case, we are both friends and family. In fact, Mak and Lyros are
my sworn Trial brothers. We went through the Trial of Initiation together to mark our passage into
adulthood, along with our three other dearest friends.”
As he and Cassia neared a ruin that had crumbled partway across the deer path, they slowed their
pace. At the base of a stone slab that had long ago fallen on its side, Knight was digging and sniffing
amid the rocks and dirt with great enthusiasm. His stick must have landed somewhere in the rubble.
Cassia propped herself against the fallen support. “Was your Trial of Initiation very long ago?”
Lio leaned against a slender tree that grew up through the fallen stones across from her. “I fear
whatever air of mystery I still possess in your eyes shall not survive this conversation. My friends
and I passed Trial only this Winter Solstice, shortly before I came to Tenebra. I’m quite green.”
“That tells me very little, for I still do not know at what age Hesperine initiation takes place.”
Lio slid his hands into the pockets of his robes. “We all wanted to be initiated together, so we
waited until everyone was old enough.”
“You are making me fish for my answers tonight, Initiate Ambassador. Before you ask, no, it shall
not disturb me to learn you are old enough to be my ancestor.”
Lio gave a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound forced. Would it disappoint her that he was not as
wondrously ancient as she might have imagined? “Guess again.”
“Oh, we are playing a guessing game, are we?” She tapped her cheek with a finger in
contemplation. “Very well. You are old enough to be a fallen god!”
“Definitely not. Anthros struck down Demergos and left Chera a widow long before I was born.
More’s the pity.”
Cassia’s gaze lit with curiosity. “You are old enough to have been an apprentice in a temple of
Hespera before the mages of Anthros and Hypnos drove your cult from human lands.”
“No, I am sorry to say. Very sorry indeed. I would love to have seen the Great Temple Epoch.”
“Hmmm. You were at the first Equinox Summit and knocked back too many pints with the Mage
King.”
Lio shook his head, smiling. “Hesperines can’t get drunk. And you know this is my first journey to
Tenebra.”
“But what if your first journey began centuries ago, and you have remained here all this time,
hidden by your arcane affinity?” In the glow of his spell light, her eyes glinted with mischief. “You
wandered the land during the Feuds of Regnum, when the Council failed to crown a king. While the
free lords hacked away at each other for a century and trampled the fields into famine, you secretly
helped the folk who suffered.”
“That was true of many Hesperines at the time, but I was not among them.”
The light in her eyes winked out. “You remember when Lucis Basileus did not rule Tenebra.”
Lio’s humor fled. “Yes. I do.”
“Ah. Older than the king with whom you treat. And you shall outlast him.”
“There is a vast world of which that is true, Cassia. Your people have a long and honorable
history that dates back to a just king and queen, and I hold out hope the Tenebrae have a future brighter
than Lucis’s present.”
“‘Tenebrae?’ Take care you do not say such a thing at the Summit.”
“I know. No one breathes the word ‘Tenebrae’ in front of the king. No matter that this part of the
world has always been called the Tenebrae, a plural.”
“Indeed, our glorious king has unified the Tenebrae into a single mighty kingdom called Tenebra, in
the singular. He has reforged the course of history and even the name his people have called their own
lands for centuries. For the safety of the realm, be sure to drop the treasonous ‘e.’”
Ah ha. There was Cassia’s opinion on the king, hiding beneath her mocking recitation of his
decrees.
Lio grimaced. “It’s hard to believe the king considers one extra letter blatant resistance. He
demands that centuries of loyalty to Hadria, Segetia, Otho, or Severitas to become loyalty to Tenebra
overnight. But the fact remains, this so-called kingdom is really a collection of independent domains
under the nominal rule of a king affirmed by the Council of Free Lords.”
“It was,” Cassia corrected, “until Lucis secured the affirmation, then took royal authority beyond
all its traditional bounds and began calling himself Basileus like the Mage King himself.”
“An offense to a great man from whom he does not descend,” Lio dared say, hoping Cassia would
continue to vent her perspective on her father’s reign. “No matter how much Lucis postures, everyone
knows he has no hereditary claim on the crown. The Mage King’s line died out ages ago, and Lucis
cannot claim descent from any of the dynasties that have held the throne since.”
Cassia’s voice became icier still. “He staked his claim not on the blood he carries in his veins, but
on the blood he has spilled.”
“As firsthand observers of his reign can surely attest.”
Then came her shrug. “He is hardly the first free lord to make himself into a king with nothing but
the sword.”
Thorns. Lio had pressed her too far. Did she not realize it was safe to discuss treason with a
heretic?
“Regardless of how his former equals appear to oblige him,” Lio went on, “it would be too
generous to say the free lords are convinced of his claim. Especially in the east, where there are only
homesteads under the authority of the hold lords. The old name of the Tenebrae remains true there.”
“You seem to know a great deal about that area,” Cassia observed.
“There lies the bluff called the Hilt, the doorstep of the wilds, and beyond, nothing but treacherous
rivers and impenetrable forests.”
“Ah, yes, the Hilt. A traditional site for offering sacrifices to the gods. Heretics, for example, or
unwanted children.”
“Hesperines wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Of course not.”
He could not possibly explain to her how much more there was to it than that.
She had steered the subject back to Lio’s people again. But the knot of wistfulness and anger he
felt in her had all to do with the king.
Could Lio help untangle it? He put on a grin for her. “I must admit I learned all I know of the Hilt
secondhand, for I am much too young to venture into the wilds as a Hesperine errant to rescue mortals
in distress. I’m only eighty-eight. The customary age for initiation is eighty, but of the six of us, I
waited for the others the longest.”
“Only eighty-eight.”
“I told you I was young.”
She crossed her arms. “You’ve barely grown your chin hairs.”
Lio’s grin turned into a real one. It was good to see her return to their teasing, even if it did come
at his chin hairs’ expense. “I’ll have you know I grow a very fine beard. You just have to wait for it.
It’s merely a side effect of our bodies’ natural pace. On the one hand, we mature slowly and
ultimately cease aging. On the other hand...” He rubbed his chin. “It takes forever to grow a sunbound
beard. It seems to stay at that itchy stage for an eternity. My father’s been working on his since before
I had teeth, and it’s famous by now. Perhaps I shall eventually find the patience.”
“Hesperines must take great pride in their hair once it does grow.”
“Yes. I have friends back home who would be ferociously jealous of your mane.” He let his gaze
travel over her hair.
Her flush was pure music. He readied himself for a retort.
But she said nothing about his compliment. “Now I understand why none of the males in the
embassy wear beards.”
Cassia, without a clever reply? She was one of the strongest people he had ever met, but the one
thing that made her falter was a hint of genuine praise. It took so little to put her so off balance. To
touch her so thoroughly.
Lio was in a unique position. He was not a suitor, nor even a man. She was not hostile to any
pretty words he spoke. He was one person who could give her compliments that did not feel like
threats, manipulation, or attempts to control her. He could show her the pleasure of being noticed and
appreciated.
Flirtation was only words, and words were the one thing they could exchange freely. Safely.