CASSIA MIGHT BE WATCHING Knight dig in the ruins, but Lio sensed her attention elsewhere. Focused.
Undivided. On him.
“So you Hesperine males have your own rites of passage, as our warriors do.”
“Actually, all Hesperines must pass the same Trial to demonstrate our mastery of our Gift. The
other three friends I mentioned are all female.”
Knight pressed against Cassia’s skirts, his tail waving like a battle standard as he held up the stick
in his mouth. She rubbed the hound between his ears, smiling down at him despite the dirt he smeared
on her skirts. Lio might have believed her semblance of playfulness if not for the keenness of her aura.
And the pointedness of her remark. “You have never mentioned any specific females at home in
Orthros who are not your elders.”
“Have I not?”
Cassia tossed the stick off into the night, and her hound bounded away again. The air around them
suddenly seemed very quiet and fragrant of her.
“Tell me about your lady friends,” she invited.
He could give her an idea how different it was for females like her in Orthros, without delving into
subjects better left back home. “Eudokia is an initiate mathematician and smarter than any of us. She
is already an accomplished scholar and calligrapher. Menodora, an initiate musician, not only sings
and plays beautifully, but also crafts her own instruments. Xandra is an initiate sericulturalist who
provides Orthros with one of our most prized goods—silk.”
Now Cassia subjected him to a thorough scrutiny. Nothing gave him the impression her intent was
suggestive, as his had been a moment ago when he had caressed her hair with his gaze. But the way
she looked at him now had much the same effect him.
He looked back into her gardener’s green-brown eyes and resisted the urge to show his true
appreciation with a glance that would touch her up and down, from her freckled nose to her muddy
hem.
He was quite hopeless. Was it because she was so forbidden? He had not thought himself to be
that sort of fool, to run headfirst into what he knew would remain unrequited.
“You have a tell,” she informed him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A tell. A gesture a gambler makes whenever bluffing. Ladies may not frequent Hedon’s halls, but
we witness plenty of games of chance at court.” She took a step away from the stone slab and held up
her hands. Then she tucked them behind her back and stood up very straight. “You do this every time
you lack confidence. Especially when you are about to say words of which you are unsure.”
Now it was Lio who flushed. He realized he gripped his hands behind him even now, and he no
longer lounged against the tree.
“You are very good,” Cassia assured him. “The candidness of your expressions makes others feel
they can trust you, while your body language gives nothing away. Except when you put your hands
behind your back and draw yourself up.”
Lio cleared his throat and slid his hands into his pockets again. “I shall endeavor to remember that
at the negotiation table.”
“I need not play another guessing game to discover which lady most regrets your absence. Your
tell appeared when you said Xandra’s name.”
Thorns. Cassia had just given him a lesson in diplomacy, indeed. “She most certainly does not
regret my absence.”
“Ah. So the distance is not unwelcome to her. The question is, then, do you regret your absence
from her?”
Lio wished Knight would choose that moment to return with the stick, but alas, it was a vain hope
that a liegehound would come to his rescue. Cassia had effectively maneuvered the conversation from
a discussion of his people to an interview about everything he had no desire whatsoever to talk about.
He should have been more prepared. Hadn’t he done the same thing to her often enough? “If I answer
that question, you must tell me if I owe anyone an apology for monopolizing your evenings.”
“That is not our agreement,” she said primly. “We do not make exchanges. We ask and answer
openly.”
She had him. He could not expect her to uphold their Oath if he did not. And he had worked so
hard to make her feel it was worthwhile and safe to speak with him like this. Was it really worth
jeopardizing all the progress he had made with her because he was too embarrassed to discuss his
romantic mistakes?
Lio bowed. “On my honor, you are right. Although I do hope you will answer my question openly,
once I have answered yours.”
His interrogator leaned against the ruin again, and the toes of her slippers peeked out from under
her gown. “Do you miss her?”
Lio lifted his gaze from Cassia’s small feet. Why did his mind choose this moment to wonder
whether she had freckles on her toes as well? “I too find the distance quite welcome, I assure you.”
“Well, I can certainly understand that. I frequently long for greater distances between myself and
my suitors. But I confess, I find it hard to imagine what could possibly go wrong between a lady and
you.”
She regarded him likelier to succeed with a female than one of her suitors. What a compliment.
“We discovered we were unsuited.”
“Then it sounds as if it is for the best that you parted.”
Lio breathed in the scent of Cassia’s determination. She would have her answers out of him, one
way or another. He had seldom been so thoroughly subjected to his own negotiation techniques, and
never by a young mortal woman.
He could only conclude she was as voraciously curious about him as he was about her. Was that
really cause for discomfort?
Lio strolled over to the stone pillar, bringing himself nearer to Cassia in body and Union. Her
curiosity tickled his senses as he casually propped an elbow on the stone support. “It never once
occurred to me it was for the best. But I think you are right.”
“You must have cared for her very much.”
Lio cast a glance out into the night, to the north. He grimaced. “I decided to avow her when I was
about your age.”
“Oh. Considering your explanations of how Hesperines mature, at age one-and-twenty, you must
have been...”
“A child, yes.”
“Well, it’s not as if childhood betrothals are unheard of.” She paused. “But sixty-seven years is a
very long time to be betrothed to someone.”
Lio snorted. “Yes. It is, isn’t it? You would think I would realize, if we could endure such a long
engagement, we might not be so eager for what was to come after.”
A soft, hiccuping sound filled the silence. Cassia was laughing.
Before Lio knew it, he was laughing with her. He laughed over that single, disastrous night with
Xandra when everything he had planned for their entire lives fell apart in a matter of hours. Over his
years of youthful efforts to impress her. Most of all over his own blindness.
He should have realized long before. What he felt for her was not what he would feel for his
Grace. That had not been hunger powerful enough to sustain them for eternity. It had not been the
Craving.
He had made a mistake. But not the one he thought he had made. He should not have stubbornly
persisted in such a misguided commitment, which had only burdened both of them.
But the end of that commitment was not the mistake.
He could not fight their natures or the nature of the Gift. No matter how thoroughly he had managed
to convince himself he and Xandra were meant for each other, they were not. That was a fact.
Not a failure.
He wasn’t what she needed. She...was not what he needed.
Lio rubbed his eyes and listened to Cassia catch her breath. Had he really regretted arriving in
Tenebra unavowed? If he were Graced, he would not be standing here laughing with Cassia.
He stared at her. Her laughter quieted as if it had never been, and she pressed her lips tightly
together. But not tight enough to hide her smile.
“I have never heard such a charming sound,” he told her.
“What sound?”
“Your laughter.”
“I see why they sent you as an ambassador. You’ve a gift for flattery.”
“You wound me. I thought you knew by now I only speak with the utmost sincerity. You have a
lovely laugh.”
“It’s not as if you haven’t heard it before.”
“No, I don’t think I have.”
Cassia waved a hand. “Do not waste your time regretting Xandra, Sir Diplomat. You are young,
successful, and handsome. I am certain you will have plenty of more suitable opportunities.”
Lio rubbed his mouth to wipe the grin off his face. Cassia had just evaluated him in the same tone
of voice as she might describe the condition of a horse’s teeth. But she had called him handsome.
He gave her his best bow. “I thank you for your vote of confidence, my lady. I take your opinion to
heart.”
Knight would choose that moment to impose himself on them again. But not between them. After
the hound had received his lady’s adoration, he lay down on her other side to gnaw on the stick.
“You never know,” said Cassia. “Perhaps Eudokia or Menodora is merely waiting to take her
chance when you return.”
Smiling, Lio shook his head. “Kia and Nodora are my Trial sisters.”
“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of other ladies in Orthros, and the dashing athletes Mak and Lyros
will not lay claim to all of them before you return.”
Lio burst out laughing again. “That is...not a concern.”
“Ah, you’re in luck. They’re already Graced?”
“Thoroughly. At least one good thing happened after our Trial. We are considered rather young to
make such a commitment, by Hesperine standards. But they did not let that deter them. They have
known what they wanted since we were old enough to understand such things. We all hope to be like
the two of them. They make it look effortless.”
“You seem very happy for them.”
“I am, with all my heart.” Lio cleared his throat. “I could not imagine finer partners for my two
dearest friends than each other.”
He counted one, two, three beats of her heart before she sailed onward. “Forgive me. I should
know better than to make uninformed assumptions.”
“We do not forbid the same things in Orthros as are forbidden in Tenebra,” he reminded her.
“You do not forbid what people will do anyway. In other words, you are not hypocrites.”
“There was a time when we were not the only cult that blesses passion.” Lio frowned. “I am
familiar with the complex history that led to conflicting views. Our Goddess teaches us to practice
compassion toward those who believe differently from us and to have patience with their search for
truth. I do try to understand how the followers of Anthros have arrived at their ideas, although they
violate my convictions.”
“Tenebrans’ beliefs are very simple to understand,” Cassia said. “If you are a man, you may sheath
your sword anywhere you please—as long as you are the one wielding the weapon, of course. But if
you surrender to a warrior, it is off to the temples of Hedon with you. Man or woman, doesn’t matter.
If you lie down for the sword, you are unworthy of Anthros, and you’d best make yourself useful in
service to Hedon, the god of pleasure and chance—oh, excuse me. The god of fertility and prosperity,
I think the Order of Anthros calls him now.”
Lio found it difficult to hear her commentary out. “I have read the mages of Anthros tolerate the
temples of Hedon as a means of promoting order.”
“Yes, they like everyone to keep their vices under the temple roof, where the mages can oversee
them. Hedon has plenty of servants to assist in the endeavor. Once forsaken, if you wish to eat, you
must earn your bread on your belly or your back.”
And humans thought his people were perverse? “I am no stranger to the concept of sacred union, to
be sure. Before the Order of Anthros enforced celibacy among all mages, pleasure was a part of
worship in many cults. But to turn that ritual into a punishment...to force it on anyone...” Lio’s hand
tightened on the fallen pillar. “The mages of Anthros impose their cult on everyone else, their ‘order’
on everyone’s lives, and use all other cults as a means to that end. They march over the many sacred
practices and beliefs that once thrived, as if they wish to grind that wondrous variety to sand of a
single color beneath their heels. They have no respect for anyone’s Will but their god’s, and as to
what it is, we have only their word.”
Spell light cast a sharp gleam in Cassia’s gaze. “Oh, but the forsaken did have a choice, of course.
They could have chosen to obey Anthros. It is perfectly honorable for a man to throw away his life on
the end of a real sword in battle or for a woman to earn her bread on her back as a wife.”
Lio found himself pulling away from the Union for the first time that night. If Cassia spoke any
more bluntly, she would bruise him. But he should not shy away. He must listen. This was the reality
she lived in, one his own Trial brothers might have endured as well, had they not been Hesperines.
“Surely there are people here who find happiness and comfort in one another, despite the odds. Not
all the people I encountered at the palace feast were unhappy in their partners.”
“The Cult of Hedon is more predominant in Cordium than in Tenebra, I’ll grant you. You won’t
find many pleasure temples here. Most often, a Tenebran warrior in need of a man to sharpen his
sword keeps a favored retainer close at hand. Others prefer their concubines. Much to their wives’
relief. Lady Elana encourages her husband to see his concubine as much as possible, so she and her
handmaiden Lady Fidela may enjoy themselves without the man of the house around to interfere. Then
there is Lady Caro, who uses her position as a widow to attract the very best liegemen to her service.
Lady Caro is very smart and effective.”
“It seems as if your rules are designed only to make you all miserable.”
“They are not my rules. I was born in violation of them. My father’s god has no use for a whore’s
bastard, so why should I have any use for him? When Anthros marches all of us who displease him to
the pyre, I rejoice that I shall be among that company with you and your Trial brothers.”
Lio stared at her. “I wish you could meet Mak and Lyros. They would appreciate you.”
Her cheeks were flushed again. She pushed away from the ruin, and Lio rejoined her on the path.
Knight moved with her, his stick left behind and tail still.
“Your turn,” Lio said. “Do our midnight walks take you away from someone whose company is
infinitely preferable to mine?”
“You did not pay attention during my lesson on what is forbidden in Tenebra. Conversing with a
heretic is the extent of my secret life. Anything more would be imprudent in my position.”
“As adept as you are with secrets? You are very smart and effective, Lady Cassia.”
“I am not Lady Caro. I am Cassia Basilis.”
Her name said it all. Why the strictures were different for her and ever more binding. But even as
the king’s daughter spoke of prudence, he had heard the concubine’s daughter speak in anger, out of
bitter experience. “Yet you have no use for Anthros’s rules.”
“I certainly don’t. Nor do I have any use for activities that are not worth the risk.”
Lio felt suddenly he was treading on dangerous ground indeed, not least because it would be
presumptuous of him to question her choices on such a personal matter. But also because he felt
furious.
He angered anew at the cult of Anthros, which robbed Cassia of such a vital part of who she was.
It was sickening. Unnatural. For Cassia, one of the best parts of being alive was not worth the risk.
Her own nature was too dangerous for her to experience. As if she would be punished for using her
ears or her eyes or her voice.
She did fear punishment for using her voice. She dared not say the wrong word, look the wrong
way, or put her foot down on the wrong flagstone in her father’s presence.
Lio’s head told him he ought to watch what he was saying, but his heart demanded something else.
For once, he didn’t think about the consequences of his words. He just said them. “Everywhere you
turn, you are told to do away with your desires. That they do not matter—nay, that they are an
abomination. It is wrong.”
Cassia came to a halt on the path and rounded on him, her blood rushing with anger. Because he
had spoken out of turn?
Because he had spoken the truth?
Cassia wore her stone face. “The king’s daughter has no desires.”
“He is not powerful enough to banish them, Cassia. Nothing he says or does can kill them. Shame
upon him for trying to chain them so they wear away at you, a curse rather than a blessing. It is
immoral to deny such a vital part of anyone.”
She let out an artful laugh, just like the night they met, but he knew her better now. He could hear
the strain in her voice. He felt as if he could reach out and touch the cord inside her that she held so
taut it might snap at any moment.
“To quell desire is immoral?” She arched a brow at him, her chin high. “Now that I have never
heard. Trust a heretic to say such a thing.”
Lio wanted to move closer to her. He dare not. “We understand that desires are sacred. They make
us who and what we are. They prove to us we live, that we are thinking, feeling beings with a
consciousness separate from others.”
“I am no philosopher, as I must often remind you. But it does seem to me you are speaking of the
soul. Desire is a foible of the flesh.”
“Both body and soul experience desire. Both are part of the Will. Behind every act of Will, there
is a desire.”
“Well, since we are on the subject, perhaps you may now give me the promised explanation of
Hesperine mating rituals.”
Lio could not laugh. Not when she was so flippant about something so sacred.
He wanted to tell her just what Grace was and shake all her bitter notions of marriage. But he must
stop and think of how much he could say without violating his people’s unequivocal rule: Hesperines
did not reveal the meaning of Grace to any Tenebran, unless of course that Tenebran was a
Hesperine’s Grace.
If only Lio could explain why Grace was such an astonishing blessing. In her generosity, Hespera
made her people immortal and freed them from the need to consume slain creatures, providing mortal
blood as nourishment instead. But when she Graced two Hesperines, her generosity overflowed. She
gave them a way to thrive on each other, without the need for any mortal’s blood. To be Graced was
to know not only sustenance, but abundance.
The great cost at which such a blessing came was, in truth, a kind of blessing in itself. Once you
tasted your Grace, no other blood would ever be enough again. The need, the addiction that set in,
was irreversible and irresistible—and always mutual. Time and again, Hesperine experience had
proved that once the Craving claimed one of you, it claimed the other as well. Even when a
Hesperine developed the Craving for a mortal, that human would experience the same hunger in return
upon receiving the Gift.
To be Graced was to be truly free, and yet utterly dependent on another. Graces could not live
without each other. Well, it was possible for them to survive. Other blood might be sufficient to keep
them alive. But Hesperines who lost their Graces seldom lasted long. Everyone regarded the agony of
withdrawal as a death sentence. Who could endure eternal Craving without hope of relief? Who
would want to?
That was a truth Orthros’s enemies must never discover. If the war mages in the Order of Anthros
learned of the Craving, they would target Graced pairs, knowing if they slew one, the other’s life
would already be forfeit.
How was Lio to walk the fine line between his Oath of honesty with Cassia and the centuries of
tradition and law that bound him to secrecy? How to describe his people’s greatest strength without
revealing it was also their greatest weakness?
“Well,” he said, “we often refer to avowal as the Hesperine equivalent of marriage, to help make
it understandable to mortals. But in truth, avowal bears little resemblance to your legal institution
designed to secure a man’s right to get a woman with child and ensure his heirs are his own offspring.
Avowal has nothing to do with property.”
Cassia lifted her eyebrows. “I have yet to hear a mage define marriage as such in the temple on a
wedding day.”
“How do you define it?”
“As a way for the king to get what he wants in exchange for me or the promise of me. But I do not
deny your definition is also true, from the standpoint of the prospective groom who wishes to ensure
his heirs have a trace of royal blood, however ill-gotten. Is your people’s preoccupation with blood
so very different?”
“As different as the moons are from the sun. We do not regard blood as something we can own or
to which we have a right. It is a gift. That is the foundation of all Hesperine bonds, but especially
Grace. Avowal is the acknowledgment before our people of that bond, which is of the body and the
soul, of desire and love, of oath and magic.”
“It sounds like a romantic minstrel ballad.”
“The minstrels didn’t invent love, you know. It has been known to happen to real people.”
“Of course they made it up, so we would have songs to quote for reference, when we pretend we
are in love.”
“Of course. Poetry and pretense have kept the Queens of Orthros together for over fifteen
centuries.”
Cassia leaned back on her heels. “People tell all sorts of insulting stories about your Queens.”
“If you are referring to the tale that they are lovers, that is neither a lie nor an insult. As for the
rumors that amount to slander, I suspect mortals spread them out of jealousy.”
“An insightful observation on the human mind, Sir Diplomat. Your Queens are two females who
hold their throne without the aid of men or gods. Tenebrans cannot fathom it, and so they must decry
it.” There was no mistaking the curiosity in Cassia’s aura. “How is it to serve them? As one of their
diplomats, you have surely been presented to them at some point.”
Lio almost chuckled. “There is no Hesperine in Orthros who has not spent time with them. They
are happiest surrounded by their people.”
“What are they like?”
“Kind.” An ache of homesickness overtook Lio. “They are our light and our darkness, and we can
always look to them to guide and shelter us. Queen Alea began her service to the Goddess as a
Tenebran mage of Hespera. She is the only Prisma of our cult who survived the Ordering. Queen
Soteira is one of the greatest healers ever born in the Empire. But she too once lost everything to her
enemies—the husband she loved, her students...her entire people. Together she and Queen Alea
overcame their suffering to give life to a new land. They will celebrate their sixteen hundredth jubilee
five years from now.”
“They need neither pretense nor poetry.” Cassia’s voice held a rare undertone of admiration. “Not
when they have power.”
She would say that. If he regaled her with tales of eternal love the night long, would she see
anything in them but goals and motivations, personal gain and power? Lio had lived his whole life
surrounded by examples of how Graces loved one another and their children. He was not sure any of
that would get through to Cassia.
Was there nothing and no one in her life that proved to her love was real?
“Our Queens have been in love longer than they have been on the throne. They have raised eight
children together and bounced every other Hesperine suckling in our long history on their laps.
Power? Yes, so much that they could sit on their terrace in Orthros and shake the Hagion of Anthros in
Cordium to its foundation. Ask yourself why they have not.”
Cassia’s face was utterly devoid of expression, but she spoke with absolute conviction. “Because
they cannot bear for even one unknown child to feel afraid.”
Before Lio could voice his surprise at her declaration, Cassia turned on her heel and walked back
the way they had come.