She needed him alone, away from the cheering, screaming crowd. Lillandyr snatched Merris by the hand and tugged him after her. He looked bewildered, rumpled and starkly terrified still. He didn't like crowds; like her, he was a private person, and it all didn't sit well. She understood.
She dragged him into the near empty temple, panting, laughing. With several gentle shoves she had him against the wall. "Lillandyr... I –" She cut him off with a searing kiss. Their kiss on the dais of the temple had been passionate but clumsy, hurried and intense, but this? She took her time and savored the taste of his mouth, the silken feel of his lips moving against hers. His hands, which had been uselessly fluttering at his sides, now dropped down to rest on the curve of her hips.
Lillandyr felt giddy. It bubbled bright inside her chest and after several long moments that served only to make her want him again, she laughed breathlessly against his mouth, her eyes half lidded, forehead pressed to his. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice soft, "that it was you." Her lips dragged over his cheek to his ear. "I wanted it to be you."
The very moment she'd given herself over to him on the altar was the moment she decided not to be afraid. To trust him. She would finally, at long last take a lover. Perhaps more. She could share her rule with someone like Merris. They'd study together, travel. It was a beautiful dream. One she'd never allowed herself to have.
"Truly, Lillandyr?" he asked and likely would've said more but her teeth grazed his throat and he groaned.
"Yes," she breathed. "To your manor," she said, groping him, looping her tongue around the shell of his ear. "So I can have you again." She wanted him in her bed. His manor made her feel uncomfortable. It was too cold, too bleak, but her tower was, by now, swarmed with revelers. All the noble lords and ladies from other Quarters. All the out-of-town guests. She'd have to put on a simpering mask and sneak him into her room. No. That wouldn't do at all.
His hands tentatively slid over her body, over her hips, the swell of her backside. He pulled her tight against him and kissed her again. She wanted him on that couch in his parlor to make up for how cruel she'd been. She broke the kiss to moan hotly in his ear. "Oh, Merris... Can you forgive me?" she wondered. "I'm so sorry. I was cross with you and I thought you just wanted to trick me."
She pulled away as she said this, taking his hands in hers, tugging at him. "You have to forgive me," she said, her smile crooked and wry.
Before he could answer, she took him out the back of the temple, into a filthy alley that broke into a narrow, unoccupied street. The parade was winding down the main thoroughfare and they were not likely to meet anyone. Her heart raced as she ran over the broken, cobbled streets, dirtying the pristine white robe, her hair spilling down her back as it shed the ceremonial headdress of bright, oily feathers.
Lillandyr was certain now that she'd never truly been in love until this moment. It was late afternoon and the sunshine spilled golden over the street. Roasting meat and incense, the sour smell of people, all of it perfumed the air sweetly. His hand was hot in hers, a little damp. He was nervous still. She looked over her shoulder at him as she tugged him along and laughed. He was so handsome. "Tell me you love me," she said. She knew he did, but she wanted to hear it. She needed to hear him say it.
"I do," he said as he plodded along. His cheeks were flushed. It leaked down his neck and to his chest. "I do love you, Lillandyr. I have. Always. Since the moment I met you," the confession spilled from him. His black eyes wide and earnest. "Every day we met for tea, I've loved you. More and more."
She took them down another narrow alley that turned sharply west. Merris lived in the most bland, least populated part of her Quarter, and even on a day like today, it was abandoned. There was no need to hurry. She slowed her pace. "I wish I had known," she told him. Or noticed. She just hadn't noticed. She'd been too busy, too greedy. When with him she'd thought only of those books of forbidden magic. But then she thought if she had known, things likely would've turned out the same way. She would have been cruel.
He paused before he answered. He squeezed her hand tightly. "I... It's all right, Lillandyr," he sounded hesitant. "It worked out, didn't it? The gods themselves willed it. They brought it together, they did this. It surely was meant to be," he said quietly as he looked around. "After this, I imagine we will have a lot more time together, yes? And I'll show you everything. Everything, Lillandyr, I've kept from you. Books and magic and scrolls. Whatever you wish, whatever I can give you. It will be yours."
She didn't know he'd manipulated the Oracle. And now she was too far seduced by the promise of a relationship with him to question it. "You've more books?" she asked, tone heavy. Of course he had books, but she knew he would know what she meant. More forbidden texts. "Then you know much more than you let on?" Of course he did; she was certain of that now. It only served to make her want him more. "Teach me?"
"A-absolutely. I can teach you," he replied, keeping his voice at a reverent hush. "Anything, anything, truly," he said, glancing to her eagerly. "I can show you my collection. Everything I've done. Everything I've gathered... Though, in order to progress, I still need to gather more," he added in a rushed whisper. "Maybe you can help me. That Idol of Turtih I've asked from you is only a small part." He brushed his silky black hair behind his ear as he continued. "I know it is probably not the time or place to discuss the details, but I need the stone of Pith, too. Incredibly rare and hard to come by, in the desert across the sea. Oh, Lillandyr..." He smiled, clearly happy and charged with excitement and adoration. He clutched her hand tightly. "Come, stay with me. Perhaps a day or two! However long you want. There is so much to share. So much to show you. You can help me. And I? … I will be so glad to help you. I've waited all these years to tell you so many things."
She'd never heard of the artifact he sought, but if he wanted it? He would have it. Pith was across the sea and was a kingdom that rose glittering and golden from the desert. And though Belshalara counted Pith as one of her allies, it was a dangerous place. She'd send Sin'del and Stormcrow again. Once they returned with the idol, of course.
She nodded at him. "Of course I'll stay, my darling." She smiled at him and pulled him along again. It was an easy, lazy stroll down the street. The gas lights flickered and the sun was setting. The air was mild. Excitement still crackled between them. "And I sent a man after your idol. He should be back soon. I've every confidence. And if he's not? Why, I will send a hundred men," she boasted. "Anything for you."
He smiled and seemed to relax a little. He rarely smiled so much. A perfect row of shining white teeth and joy that seemed to electrify his dark eyes. "You're too kind," he uttered quietly. "As soon as I get it, I will give you what I promised," he passed her a fleeting glance. "That... book," he whispered. "The Mad Penitents Codex. I have it hidden away. I made sure to hide so many things after I learned that the Oracle chose me. I knew that there would be people swarming my house," he paused, "I'm sure you did the same."
She waved her free hand. "Bah. I wouldn't let those vultures into my private quarters. Frankly, I don't know how you stood it." She laughed and shook her head, face flushing. "I cut your picture from the papers." She felt silly confessing it. "You looked..." She sighed. "So handsome. I missed you terribly. Our teas. Our talks. It's a relief to know... that I'll never have to go without them again."
He was silent as he glanced down to his feet. He was still barefooted and the bells and bangles around his ankles jingled with every step. "I was ill before our... coupling," he said as he too, began to confess more and more. "I was certain I wouldn't be able to perform and that I would be an utter joke.What you said... I was convinced you hated me," he said as he threw a furtive glance at her. "And that you, maybe... wouldn't perform the ceremony with me. That we would have to fake it. Or you wouldn't look at me. I thought," he exhaled sharply, "many, many terrible things."
She stopped walking then and embraced him. She pressed her face to his shoulder and just held him for a long moment without speaking. "When I was a girl, much younger than I am now, I thought I was in love," she murmured to him, stroking her hand through his hair. "He was very charming, but I was nothing to him. He wanted my power and gold, wanted to take everything I'd worked so very hard for. He had a lover already. I was... just a means to an end. And I swore I'd... never never let a man take what was mine. I'm sorry, Merris. I was cruel. I thought I had to be." She pulled back a little and looked up at him. "The music box... I thought you meant to try and usurp my rule here." She gave him a rueful, sheepish smile.
"No, no, no..." Merris whispered adamantly. He brushed his long, thin pale fingers against her cheek. He looked into her eyes, his lashes long and black. His eyes were chips of warm, volcanic obsidian. "I sent it as a gift. I was afraid you'd never... never think of me as a lover unless I tried to show you myself. It was a foolish attempt, I know. I simply did not know any other way. I should have come out and said it aloud. I just," he stumbled, his brow knotting before he whispered his final words, "didn't have the courage to do it." He kissed her, his mouth and words filled with longing and passion. His teeth sank down on her lower lip as if he meant to hold her there, in that embrace, forever.
She warmed to the kiss immediately, moaning softly against his mouth, pressing her body to his. She wasn't sure she could wait to get inside his manor to have him even though she could see the black, sweeping roof and the iron gates. Her hands slid into his robe again and her fingers drank in his skin.
"Merris, darling!" called out a sweet, soft, feminine voice. She'd never heard anyone approach, but when she broke the kiss, frowning, she saw a lovely, thin pale girl with silvery hair and big, gray eyes. The girl was dressed all in ivory lace, old-fashioned, with pearls at her throat and wrists. "There you are." The girl ignored her. Utterly. "Are you done then? I was so worried about you." Lillandyr took a step back, her brow pinched in confusion. Who was this woman?
She didn't know she was in the company of a Muse of Eryss. She had seen them, certainly, but never this close. The influence worked like poison. It seeped into her head and fed every single doubt and fear until paranoia made her dizzy and sick. This woman... she was clearly his lover. She sounded so familiar and fond.
"Castalline," Merris whispered, his face suddenly drained of color and eyes snapped wide. "I... I beg your pardon? Done with what, exactly?" he asked as he released Lillandyr, though his arm snapped in front of her protectively. "What do you mean? Worried about me? I'm fine, Castalline, clearly," he answered in an awkward rush of words.
Lillandyr's frown turned dark and stormy as he stood between her and the other woman. The influence seeped into her and soured her. She wanted to go home. She wanted away. She'd been used, clearly, duped. Tricked. Perhaps it was for her arrogance and Venorith was punishing her. But she was clever and wouldn't be fooled.
The woman, Castalline, stepped up to Merris and pouted softly. She was a beautiful girl, Lillandyr thought with a sudden, surging stab of jealousy. "With... well. That unpleasant business with Shadowglade. I know you didn't want to do it. I'm just glad it's all over with and you're back home. With me." The last words were emphasized and only now did Castalline regard Lillandyr, her gaze piercing. Smug. Lillandyr's ears rang and her stomach turned over.
He looked over his shoulder with an expression of sorrow. Regret. Fear. He then looked at Castalline and deflated, shoulders sinking. "Yes, well," he whispered meekly. His fingers drummed nervously at his side. His eyebrow twitched. He looked smaller, as if he had suddenly shrunk in size. "I... shall be returning home," he said in a barely audible voice. "Very shortly."
The girl smiled. It was the most vicious, cruel smile Lillandyr had ever seen and it broke her heart. It hurt her. His words were so tepid. No excuses, no sorries. He hadn't wanted to lay with her at all. He didn't love her. It was all a lie. Her breath caught and she found that she couldn't help but audibly, painfully gasp. Nor could she seem to take in enough air. Tears stung her eyes, but she was determined not to cry. "Don't let me keep you, Mister Osterious," she said, her tone ice. "In fact..." She stepped out from behind him, her back to Castalline. "I'll be on my way. You'll have your idol soon. And the Stone of Pith. After that?" Her words spilled out of her in hurt and angry bursts. She had to get away. She had to go home. He was destroying her. "I never want to see your face again."
He clearly had heard her. His throat rose and fell as he swallowed hard. Then his face fell into his palms with a slap. He said nothing, no replies, no explanations. His face and expression were hidden behind his trembling white hands.
She lofted her chin, proud, strong. She had to be. She could bleed in private. She could cry and have her pain alone, but not now. Not in front of Merris and his lover. "You made a fool of me, Merris Osterious. I won't forget it." She turned on her heel and walked away. She couldn't see. Tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision. Her breath came in pained, panting gasps.
She rounded a corner, not even sure where she was, and sank down against a dirty stone wall and wept into her hands. The Muse's influence was insidious. It had amplified every ill thought, inspired her to doubt until she was certain Merris had only her ruin in mind. She thought of how she longed for him, the things she'd said and her face burned in humiliation. But she knew, even in her sorrow, that she loved him and it would be a wound she would always carry.
Lillandyr didn't know how long she wept against the wall in that dark alley, but she startled when she felt warm, velvety hands on her arms. She looked up, ready to rebuke anyone who dared touch her, but then she saw it was Vassiago. His golden mask was askew and she saw half of his handsome face. He looked so concerned, his brow pinched.
"Oh no. Our beautiful, sweet Lady of Shadows. We hate to see you so distraught," he cooed, holding her at the elbows.
For a moment she forgot herself. For a moment she allowed herself to indulge in her pain and grief and she pressed her face into the crook of Vassiago's neck. She didn't tell him what had happened; she couldn't bear to give words to it. She was thankful he only gently shh'd her and petted her hair. He unclipped his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. He drew the hood over her face and brushed her tears off her cheeks.
"It has been a long day for our Queen of Light and Darkness, hasn't it? We think she should go home, should take the back entrance to the tower and bathe and sleep. Some wine with sleeping herbs, yes? You will be right as rain when the sun rises on the morrow." His gaze was sharp but she didn't care. Let him mock her, she thought sourly. His advice was sound and she was grateful for his help.
Lillandyr let him lead her away, let him shoo off well-wishers and revelers. He took her to the back entrance of her tower where only her guards lingered. Everything moved either too slow or too fast and she felt dizzy and lost by the time he ushered her into her room.
Vassiago drew her a bath while she stood, numb and bleeding on the inside, in the center of her room. He scented the water with lavender and brought her wine. Then he overstepped himself.
His long, velvet-clad fingers slid over her arms as he took off her jewelry. Then he tried to strip off her robes. Lillandyr sneered at him and batted at his hands. "You take too many liberties, Vassiago," she hissed.
He stepped back, mask firmly in place again, holding up his hands in defeat. "We only wish to serve and help our lady."
"I've had enough of your touches. Go away." She waved him off.
For a moment, Lillandyr was certain she could see anger glitter in his eyes, but then he bowed low and was gone, closing the door softly behind him. She started to strip off her robes, but she could still smell Merris on them. His subtle cologne, the scent of his skin, his seed. She trembled and wept into her hands again.
Instead, she left the bath to grow tepid and cold and curled into her bed. She drank a bottle of wine and slept fitfully. She woke as the sun set and a letter came for her. Her gentle, mute maid brought it on a silver platter. Her heart raced and she smiled. Merris. He'd written her. To apologize. Beg her forgiveness, and she could go to him then and they would be together. She no longer cared about that other woman if he was sorry.
But the letter wasn't from Merris. It was from the Old Dog, Kia Sin'del. He'd fetched her idol. It fell from the rolled up parchment and into her lap. She scanned over the letter and sighed in agitation. Captain Stormcrow was injured. She couldn't have that. Sin'del needn't have asked for her favor, she'd have rescued the Captain anyway. She needed Anryn Stormcrow alive. There wasn't a better smuggler in all of Belshalara. And though she didn't need it yet, she would need her services soon. Lillandyr would call for her personal physician right away; she would make proper tributes to Eryss to see that the pirate captain was healed.
She held the idol of Turtih in her palm. Such a little thing. She wondered what Merris wanted it for. She realized that despite all their teas and long talks, despite the intimacy they'd just shared, she knew very little about him. She would hand deliver the idol as promised, though it would hurt her. She had to assure that the book fell into her hands only. This was not a job for messengers. Truth be told, she wanted to see him, even if it was painful. She wanted to see him hurt for hurting her. She'd go, she thought, dressed in her best, lovely and untouchable. She wouldn't seem as broken as she felt.
And maybe, she thought with a little, terrible hope, he would apologize. He would beg for her. And maybe then she would take him back and they would be together. Lillandyr knew this hope was too thin. She had too much pride and her sweet, tender love affair with Merris Osterious was over before it began.
She turned over the idol in her hand and wondered why the Old Dog had asked for that favor from her for Stormcrow. Did he fancy the old pirate? Probably, she thought. They were both crass, low class garbage. She half wished Kia had delivered the idol in person and she wondered if he watched the sacrifice, or if he had years before.
Maybe, she thought idly, she'd seduce him next time she saw him. A distraction from the pain clawing at her chest.
But probably not. She didn't want another man to touch her and made a note that this year would be the very last year she'd offer herself as sacrifice. Never again. Lillandyr opened another bottle of wine and sent for quill and parchment. She wrote Doctor Greenwood and she wrote Merris. Her letter to Merris was short and terse. She'd hand deliver the idol in a day or two.
After all that, she drank herself sick and slept the rest of the night. She had that dream again, the dream of falling in the cold, black ocean. She dreamed of the gods and of Merris. And she dreamed that all the gods in their hells and heavens feared Merris the Moth. She dreamed that she was only a tiny spark in the face of his inferno. She dreamed it consumed her and left her as ashes. And when she woke, she wept and cursed him.