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Cassia had never had so much to lose and so much to gain by thwarting the king’s plans for alliance with Cordium and war with the Hesperines.
Not only justice for her sister’s fate at the king’s hands. Not only gratitude toward the Hesperines who had been Cassia’s only saviors the night of Solia’s death. Not only the lives of all the Hesperines errant and the threat of Cassia’s own death upon a heretic’s pyre.
There was the threat of the Departure. That version of the future weighed upon Cassia, too dreadful to bear, and she was at a loss as to how to carry it. The Summit must not fail to secure peace, for the Hesperines would leave Tenebra rather than meet the Mage Orders in battle.
The Queens would invoke the Departure. They would sequester all their people behind their ward. Forever.
There was only one hope that lifted that burden from Cassia’s shoulders. Now that she had let herself begin to imagine it, she could not push the vision away. She must hold fast to it, for it gave her strength.
If the Summit succeeded, Cassia’s work in Tenebra would be done. She could stay here. She would never lose Lio again. They would have each other and all of Orthros ahead of them. They would never run out of time.
This council of Chrysanthos’s was several hours too late to sway the course of events. The Queens of Orthros had already summoned their closest advisers to a secret circle the night before, with Cassia in attendance as their informant.
Cassia would not fail to show proper appreciation for her mortal allies, as well. “Perita, you are marvelous. I think that’s the fastest you’ve ever gotten me ready for anything.”
“We’re not at the mage’s beck and call, but we don’t want him to have too much time to have his say before you get there, either.”
They left Cassia’s rooms to find Callen waiting patiently in the corridor with Apprentice Eudias fidgeting beside him.
“Basilis,” the subordinate mage greeted Cassia. An expression of relief crossed the young man’s long face, but then he licked his scrawny hand and tucked the thin, black strands of his hair under his yellow apprentice cap. He glanced at the walls, which had ears, of course.
Cassia was happy to know they were the ears of Hippolyta’s Stand and the Prince’s Charge, and she had already told them most of the things the mortals avoided discussing. “What’s the matter, Apprentice Eudias?”
“Honored Master Adelphos must not be kept waiting! He insists everyone arrive punctually.” The apprentice might have been announcing that Anthros himself was about to descend in his sun chariot and put all the guilty to the pyre on the spot. Eudias scurried down the hall.
Cassia followed after him at a dignified pace. She was not going to run to the Dexion’s whistle, not to mention make Callen run all the way to the New Guest House after the attack in the pass had put his bad leg to the test. Attired in a leather tunic with his sandy hair tidy, Cassia’s bodyguard was the picture of an efficient and ready warrior, even if the Hesperines had confiscated everyone’s swords. Cassia hoped the dark circles under his eyes meant he and Perita had enjoyed their silk sheets and not that his old wound had made a misery of the night. Perita had been unusually tight-lipped on the matter, and Cassia could not ask Callen how his leg was holding up without offending his pride.
Eudias seemed to remember his duties as the superfluous protector Chrysanthos and the king had assigned Cassia. He hovered ahead of her and her friends in the hall and waited.
“Good morning to you as well,” Cassia said when they caught up to him.
Eudias flushed. “Well, thank you, Basilis. Good morning. Or rather, I suppose it’s actually good evening, isn’t it?”
“Strictly speaking, yes. It is night in Tenebra right now, but a new ‘day’ for the Hesperines, I suppose. Moon hours correspond to our hours of darkness, when the Hesperines are wakeful, and veil hours to our hours of daylight, when they rest. In any case, you may go on ahead to present yourself to the Honored Master punctually, if you like.”
“Ah, thank you, no, that won’t be necessary. It won’t do for me to leave your side, Basilis.” He fell into step beside her.
They found their way back to the main hall of Rose House, then to the gallery that would take them to the New Guest House. Sir Benedict was already in the arched stone corridor, and the moment they entered, he took Cassia’s arm.
“Are you well this night, Your Ladyship?” the knight asked.
“None the worse for wear, thank you. How are you, Benedict?”
“Ready for anything.” He glowered ahead toward the mages’ lodgings.
“Even tonight’s diplomatic events?” She smiled at his attire.
“I am not here to impress, Your Ladyship.”
At twenty-three, Benedict was only a year older than Cassia, but he wore the long tunic and loose braccae that were the tradition of their forefathers. His sturdy garments were more suited to a call to arms than an appearance at a foreign court, and his golden brown hair was cut short to accommodate a helm. The only finery he wore was his spotless wool tabard displaying Segetia’s coat of arms. The fox carrying a sheaf of wheat in its mouth was an uncanny reminder of the future free lord of Segetia.
Flavian had no place in Orthros. Her promise dance with him last month had been a lifetime ago. The lady who had discussed their marriage had been a different Cassia.
“As the First Knight of Segetia,” Benedict said gravely, “my only purpose is to act as my liege’s official representative, carrying out Lord Titus’s commands in all things—and to protect you as my lord Flavian would, were he here. It is shame enough that you will not be in Tenebra to celebrate with him when your fathers make your betrothal official. But I will see to it that you make it safely home for your wedding, if it is my last deed in this world.”
“I do hope you are being rhetorical, Benedict.”
His only answer was a grim expression.
