Chapter 61: Chapter. 61

Luther stirred next to me when the first rays of sun cast a rosy light into his bedroom.

Luther beamed at me, painfully beautiful. “Should we sneak out of the citadel and never come back?”

I sighed, propping myself up on my elbow. “I wish either of us were capable of deserting our responsibilities.”

“Off to work then,” he answered, pulling his linen tunic on, before giving me one last, long kiss, which sent a spark of desire down my spine.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said, confident.

But a frustrating routine settled for the days that followed the public announcement that Luther and I were lovers. Our days were slammed with events, meetings and court functions. I became mostly shut away from the high-council, forced to favor my duties as Luther’s royal lover.

Daily, more demons came to bring up matters of etiquette or customs, after which I had to take long strolls with courtiers attempting to garner favors. I mostly wanted to scream at them that there were more important issues at stake, but Cleta had taught me how to smile politely for hours on end. Plus, everyone was eager to go back to a normal life. The court wasn’t aware that a menace was still looming.

Nights were reserved for concerts and plays, and I was dreading the first reception I had to organize, designed only for the women of the court to get to know me better. I hoped that it would silence the rumors that I had bewitched Luther, which had only increased since our love affair became public.

The only time Luther and I had together consisted of falling asleep against each other, exhausted.

Since my every move was scrutinized by the rest of the court as Luther’s fiancée, I decided to use my new influence to help Gaia. A meeting with Gallen’s mother, a powerful tribe member, could help me both keep up appearances and find out if she had anything to do with the woman who had challenged Gallen in marriage. So the morning before the reception, I had scheduled a walk on the palace esplanade with Cadlye.

Gallen had finally admitted to Gaia that Roisin was a former lover, but swore that he hadn’t had any contact with her in over five years. Every time his parents were discussed, however, Gallen refused to see that they might bear any ill-will towards Gaia, insisting instead that they only acted for the good of Voke. But Gaia still didn’t have a date for their daughter’s binding ceremony, and Gallen still had to fight Roisin in a marriage challenge during the next tournament.

“Thank you for meeting me,” I gave Cadlye my best fake smile when she joined me under the blazing sun, on the esplanade.

“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” she answered, returning my smile. A couple of servants scurried around her, shadowing her with umbrellas.

“We always have a choice. It all depends on the consequences we are willing to face,” I told her, realizing that although she wasn’t ready to oppose me publicly, the conversation was going to be trickier than I thought. “Someone came to me to change the rules around marriage proposals,” I continued.

“And my opinion matters to you now?” Cadlye asked coolly.

“I’ve never been in a position to ask for your opinion,” I corrected. “But I know from Gaia that you are close to the Annaba tribe elder. I want to make an informed decision regarding this matter,” I continued. “I am conferring with all the tribes.”

“What is the matter then?” she asked, suddenly curious.

“Bren suggests allowing men to refuse a challenge to marry, rather than being forced to fight,” I informed her, discretely studying her reaction.

Cadlye stopped to face me.

“I’ve been dealing with court intrigues longer than you have, Tatiana. You would do well to remember that,” she whispered, all the while grinning at courtiers passing us.

“What do you mean?”

“You want to know if I convinced Roisin to challenge Gallen to a fight? I didn’t. That woman is harebrained, and I don’t wish for anyone to marry her. She’s been in love with my son ever since they were teenagers. Now the next time you want to accuse me of something, don’t insult my intelligence by devising such an obvious little plot. I may be forced to accept your invitations, but that doesn’t mean I need to answer your questions,” she smiled politely.

“I...never meant to accuse you of anything,” I managed to lie, trying not to blush.

I should have suspected that Cadlye would see through my hastily devised plan. She’s been navigating the court for longer than I’ve been alive.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Cadlye answered, loud enough for everyone around us to hear, “I feel faint in this heat. You wouldn’t mind if I go lie down?”

“Of course not,” I answered. “I hope you feel better soon.”

Cadlye bowed and turned away, leaving me once more dumbfounded by my interaction with her.

If I’m going to outwit this woman, I will indeed have to respect her intelligence...no matter how much it irks me to do so.

***

For the evening reception, I had picked an intimate salon on one of the last floors of the palace, sparsely furnished, as I wished for people to mingle rather than huddle on couches all night.

Most of Ligones’ prominent women had come by, although I noted a few glaring absences, namely Enid’s and Cadlye’s. But considering how worried I had been that someone would publicly accuse me of manipulating Luther, the evening had unfolded beautifully, at the exception of one detail.

The last few women were trickling out, and Roisin was nowhere to be seen. Gaia and I had hoped to get to know her in order to figure out her true intentions.

“Tatiana,” Gaia whispered as I was chatting to Kenai’s mother, a kind woman with a curtain of silver hair. “She came.”

I excused myself, sliding closer to Gaia. “Which one is she?”

Gaia pointed at a mousy demon, whose pale skin almost made her look human. “That’s who you’re afraid of?” I asked Gaia.

“Don’t be fooled by her looks,” she replied.

“Let’s hope she’s less cunning than your mother-in-law. Perhaps she’ll tell us something valuable,” I told Gaia, before walking across the room to greet Roisin.

But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cleta and another woman head in my direction.

“Tatiana,” Cleta called out. “You remember Dealla, right?”

I glanced at Roisin. She was searching the crowd for a familiar face. I suspected that she had planned on coming at the end of the evening, hoping to avoid Gaia and I.

“Yes,” I answered Cleta, still focused on Roisin. “Excuse me, I have to…”

“You should be dead,” Dealla’s voice echoed in the room.

I froze. “What?”

“You should be dead,” Dealla repeated, her eyes wild.

A few of the remaining women, hearing Dealla, stared at us.

“We should talk outside,” I told Cleta, trying to stay calm.

She helped me usher Dealla out, before too many prominent demons could witness the scene. Still, I feared that enough had been said already.

“You should be dead,” Dealla repeated a third time, in a trance.