He shrugged. “Yes. But they don’t need me. In fact, I’m not looking forward to getting back at all.”
“No? You want to stay here?”
“Not particularly. But …” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I’ve quite figured you out yet.”
Sonea blinked. “Me? What’s there to figure out?”
Regin eyebrows rose. “Oh. Plenty.”
Crossing her arms, she turned to face him. “Really? What have you figured out so far?”
He smiled. “That you are attracted to me.”
Sonea stared at him and felt her heartbeat suddenly increase. Curse him. How did he work that out? She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and considered all the ways she’d thought of to let him down gently.
“Lord Regin. I—”
“I also know that you have worked out that I am attracted to you,” Regin interrupted. “You took your time with that one, though I supposed you first had to forgive me for being a malicious, bigoted bastard when I was a novice.”
This was not going to be easy. For either of us, she had to admit. “Regin, I’m not …”
“Attracted to me?” His eyebrows rose. “So you deny it?”
She hesitated, then forced herself to straighten and look him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “Liar.”
What am I doing wrong? Uncrossing her arms, she attempted to place her hands on her hips, but it proved too difficult in a moving carriage, so she settled on shaking one finger at him.
“Don’t you call me a liar when …”
He laughed. “Ah, Sonea. If I’d known it was so much fun to tease you, I’d have started sooner.”
The panicky feeling that had been growing in her eased. He’s only having fun with me. He’s not serious. Relief was followed by disappointment. Oh, don’t be silly, she told herself. She sighed, straightened in the seat and leaned against the back.
“You may not be a malicious, bigoted bastard any more, but you are still just as manipulative, Lord Regin.”
Regin shrugged. “Well, that’s not news. I hope you agree, I always do it for a good cause.” He leaned toward her. “But I would like to know what you have against the idea of you and me being a couple.”
She paused before answering. At least he wants to discuss it sensibly. Maybe we should. Get the idea aired and out of our heads.
“It would be … well, a lot of people would object to it. I’m a black magician. You’re … married.”
“Is that all?” He shook his head. “How conventional of you. Sonea, the woman who changed everything – the Guild, Kyralian society, the way we regard black magic – is worried about gossip?”
“Of course. It took years for me to gain people’s trust. I can’t risk losing that.”
“You won’t. They’d be happier seeing you settled with another magician.”
She looked away. “You can’t know that.”
“I know Kyralia’s gossips better than you,” he retorted. “I have the dubious pleasure of knowing them personally.”
He sighed. Glancing at him, she felt her heart twist a little. He looked disappointed. Maybe he’s right. No, he doesn’t know what it was like, these last twenty years. People constantly weighing in on every move I made, every friend or lover I had.
But as she stole another glance, she knew he was right about one thing. She did find him attractive. A lot. Crazy as that may be.
“So,” he said quietly, “would it be acceptable if I was divorced?”
“No!” she protested, though whether at his question or at him continuing to pursue this she wasn’t sure.
“Maybe I should rephrase that. Would it be acceptable to you if I was divorced?” He leaned closer and she turned to face him. “If nobody else’s opinion mattered, would you want me then?”
He was staring right into her eyes. It would not be easy to lie to him. She hesitated, then opened her mouth to try.
But the words never came out because he was suddenly kissing her. As she froze in surprise he slipped his arms around her, drawing her closer, and she found she could not quite get coordinated enough to do anything about it. Her body did what it wanted to: it relaxed against the warmth of him.
It was, she had to admit, a very good kiss. She was disappointed when it ended, though she was a little out of breath. He looked at her, but not with the full confidence he’d had a moment before. He will stop this now, if I tell him to.
I don’t want to tell him to.
She searched for something else to say.
“You’re not divorced yet,” she reminded him.
He smiled. “Oh, but I am. The king granted it before I left.”
“What? You never told me that!”
“Of course not. I know you too well. You might have guessed my intentions, and kept me at arm’s length,” he told her. “Well, more than usual.”
“You planned this all along. You scheming, manipulative—”
“Always for a good cause,” he said. Then he kissed her again.
As Lorkin stepped into Savara’s suite of rooms the queen looked up from the papers she was reading and smiled. Lorkin stopped and put a hand to his heart, but she made a face and waved him past.
“Stop that. Nobody’s watching. And Tyvara’s waiting for you,” she said.
He walked over to the room he and Tyvara had been sleeping in. Tapping lightly on the door, he heard a faint reply, and pushed it open. Tyvara was lying on the narrow bed reading yet more documents, dressed only in a short shift. He closed the door, leaned back on it and hoped he wouldn’t have a reason to move again too soon.
She looked up, then rolled her eyes. “Stop that.”
“Can’t,” he said.
“Very well then. Stay there. You’ll get bored eventually.”
“I doubt it.”
She tried to ignore him, but he could see that her eyes were moving back and forth without actually descending down the page. Eventually she closed them, sighed, and looked up at him again.
“I suppose there is a way to make you stop which would be mutually agreeable to both of us.”
He widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Mutually agreeable?”
“Definitely. Come here and let’s do some experimenting with your new ability. I suspect there are some mutually agreeable ways that skill could be applied.”
Some time later Lorkin found himself on the floor, lying beside her with the bedding serving as a not-entirely-comfortable substitute for a mattress. He had been tired before, and now he was more so, but it was a pleasant sort of weariness and he resisted the temptation to Heal it away.
“We really need a bigger bed,” Tyvara said.
“Yes.”
“How are our Ambassadors?”
Lorkin resisted a smile. Savara had begun to refer to Dannyl and Tayend as “our” Ambassadors the day after she’d met them. “They’re fine. They were in the library, happy as children with new toys. I think they’d just found something for Dannyl’s book.”
“Are those two what I think they are? Are they a couple?”
“They used to be. For a long time, actually. Until Dannyl came here. They’d parted company, but I don’t know why.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. They seem close again. But they seemed that way just before Dannyl came here, so maybe I can’t tell with them.” He frowned. “Though there was a tension between them then that isn’t there now.”
She turned to look at him. “Aren’t you going to ask me what Savara wanted to talk about?”
He rolled onto his side. “What did Savara want to talk about?”
“We talked about her plans for Sachaka.”
“Now there’s a surprise.”
Tyvara poked him in the ribs. “Listen. We figure the country estates will maintain themselves without too much assistance for now. There are a few we still have to liberate. They were too out of the way for us to deal with before moving on
Arvice. But once they’re done, the main challenge is to revive the wasteland.
“Before then, however, we need to sort out the city. It’s structurally unsuited to the changes that need to happen. It’s nearly all mansions, because the Ashaki were mostly self-sufficient. Though each mansion could house many ex-slaves, they’ll want their own homes eventually. We also want to gather people with the same kinds of expertise to work together. That all means lots of buildings will have to be demolished and new ones constructed.”
“That will take years.”
She nodded. “In the meantime, we need to establish good relations with the Allied Lands. Savara is worried that other lands will hear of the upheaval here and try to take advantage of it. Maybe not by invading. The stones will hopefully deter anyone from trying that. But there are other ways, through trade and politics, to hobble a new and recovering country.”
Lorkin held his breath. This was the mission the former queen had sent him on. It was what he was best suited to. He knew how both Traitors and the Allied Lands worked.
“Savara has decided to send me to Kyralia to continue exploring trade options and the possibility of an alliance.”
He stared at her as confusion was followed by disappointment and then dismay.
“You don’t mean …?”
“Yes.” Tyvara smiled. “We’re going to Kyralia. You’ll be my guide and assistant.”
He sighed. Well, it wasn’t what I was expecting, but it’s good enough I suppose.
“Ah, Lorkin.” She reached out to touch his cheek. “You would never have been chosen for that role. You haven’t been a Traitor long enough to negotiate on behalf of Traitors.”
“And I’m a man.”
She nodded. “That, too.”
“You do realise that no other land thinks like that. Everything you believe men aren’t suited to, everyone else believes women aren’t suited to.”
“I know. They are going to have to get used to us as much as we have to get used to them.” Then she laughed. “Besides, if I’m ever going to be queen, as Savara intends, then I can’t be seen to follow some man around. Least of all a Kyralian.”
His stomach flipped over. “You’re … you’re planning to be queen?”
“Savara is planning for me to be queen.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure I want to be. But a lot can change. If it does happen, it won’t happen for a long, long time, I hope. I’m hoping she will live as long as Zarala. Being queen is a lot of responsibility, and there’s a lot I want to do first. Like have some children.” She tilted her head slightly. “Does that sound like a life you might want to live?”
His head spun with the possibilities. This is all just a bit too incredible. I just want to be with Tyvara. And … yes, children would be great eventually. He looked at her, and felt his heart warm yet again.
“It sounds wonderful. Well, except maybe the bit about us being in charge of a whole country. But I suppose if the Traitors can bear the idea of a Kyralian as their king … sure, I’ll put up with that if it means I get to spend my life with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You won’t be king. We don’t have kings.”
“Not even through marriage?”
“Not even then. Were you really hoping to be king?”
“Of course not. I can think of nothing worse.” He grinned. “Though it does seem unfair. I bet the queen’s husband still has to work incredibly hard, with no hope of retirement, talk to annoying people and attend boring ceremonies and events, and listen to his wife complain about how hard life is while having to obey her every whim – and look after her children while she’s off doing queenly things. All while getting no credit for it.” Which was probably what the Kyralian queen had to endure, he realised.
Tyvara shrugged. “None of them have complained before.”
Lorkin snorted. “You Traitors aren’t as equal as you claim you are. But, as you said, a lot can change.”
She poked him in the ribs again, hard. “Not that much. Now let’s get this bed back together and get some sleep. Tomorrow we have a lot of work to do.”
EPILOGUE
“You were dreaming about Cery again, weren’t you?”
Sonea looked up at Regin. He held a steaming cup of raka out to her. She pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed and took it. The flavour of good Sachakan raka filled her senses and she felt the last threads of the dream loosen their hold.
“I miss him.” She sighed and wiped her eyes. Knowing that she would never see Cery again was like discovering something vital inside her had been stolen. “Even though I didn’t see him that often before his family died. I wish I could have done something.” She saw him open his mouth and shook her head. “No, you don’t have to remind me. It wasn’t my fault. Things may not have gone differently if I’d been here …”
“… and you couldn’t have been in two places at once,” Regin finished. “At least, it’s not something the Guild has worked out how to do yet.”
“I suspect the tasks of finding a cure for roet and discovering how to make stones without the need of gemstone-producing caves are more urgent.” She sipped the raka, then looked towards the window screens. “What time is it? The sun’s only just rising, from the looks of it. Why did you get up?”
“A message arrived. The king has summoned the Higher Magicians to the palace.”
She swung her legs down to the floor and stood up. “When?”
“Not so soon that I haven’t time for this.” He drew her close and kissed her.
“Hmm.” She slipped her arms around him as he began to pull away again. “Time enough for anything more?”
“Not now. The king did me a favour. I shouldn’t repay him by making you late.” He pushed her towards the clothes cupboard, then got back into the bed.
Sonea dressed quickly, and gulped a few more mouthfuls of raka before slipping out of Regin’s rooms. Moving in with him had been her way of stopping the rumours that she and Regin were lovers. It wasn’t a rumour any more when it was an obvious fact. She was sure Lilia was enjoying having rooms all to herself. Anyi visited now and then with Jonna’s help, disguised as a servant. The Guild had finally removed the problem of the underground tunnels by having them filled in. Though she checked on Lilia regularly and monitored her progress, it was more out of concern that Lilia wasn’t completely recovered from everything that had happened to her.
After all, she killed someone with black magic. That isn’t as easy to live with as most would think, even when your victim was a bad person.
A door opened further down the corridor. Recognising Lady Indria, Lord Telano’s replacement, Sonea waited for the woman to catch up.
“Any idea what this is about?” Indria asked.
“Not yet.” Sonea smiled. “How are you settling in to your new role?”
Indria shrugged. “It’s both harder and easier than I expected. I’ve been teaching for years, so I understand teachers’ complaints and needs. But there are so many records I didn’t have to deal with before.”
Sonea chuckled. “Yes. The only advice I can give is that you get yourself an assistant or three.”
“I will.” As they stepped out of the Magicians’ Quarters, Indria glanced around. “It doesn’t help that Telano left everything in such a mess,” she added in a low voice. “I guess he stopped caring. Have you got any closer to finding a cure for roet?”
Sonea shook her head. “No.”
Indria sighed. “These things take time. How are the hospices?”
“Full of addicts in withdrawal. Some responding to Healing, some not. Thankfully, those magicians resistant to roet have automatically healed, so we only have to deal with the forty or so who can’t.”
They discussed the ongoing roet problem as they walked through the garden. Reaching the front of the University, they saw Osen, Balkan and Kallen standing beside a carriage, and another carriage waiting behind. Osen looked up, saw them and beckoned.
“There’s room for you in
here Lady Indria,” Osen said. “The rest have gone ahead. We’ll take the other.”
As Indria climbed inside, Osen led the way to the second carriage. Once they were all inside and the carriage began moving, Sonea looked at Osen and raised her eyebrows. He met her gaze and shook his head.
“No, I don’t know exactly what this is about, but the King’s Adviser assured me there is no invasion and Lorkin is fine.”
Sonea smiled. They’re afraid I’ll go rushing back to Sachaka at the slightest sign of trouble. Still, it is good to know this isn’t anything to do with him.
“Have you read Dannyl’s research notes yet?” Kallen asked the Administrator.
“I’m halfway through.” Osen’s eyebrows rose. “They’re actually rather fascinating, especially the Duna’s stories. I’m looking forward to reading the whole book, once he finishes and prints it.”
“He’ll have to write a new chapter on the Sachakan Civil War and magical gemstones first,” Kallen said.
“And I have a feeling there’ll be another chapter to add after that,” Balkan added.
Osen’s eyes narrowed at the High Lord. “Are you still worried about minestrike and that contraption the king’s spy says they have in Igra?”
“The ballshooter.” Balkan nodded. “Dargin thinks it is what enabled the Igrese priests to conquer all their neighbouring lands.”
“More likely the Igrese magicians weren’t very powerful or skilled,” Osen replied. “I can’t see how a ball sent through a tube can threaten a magician, if he or she is shielding well enough.”
“I suspect it works much like Lilia’s innovative idea of stabbing with magic rather than using a knife when performing black magic. A focused force sent quickly enough will overcome all but the strongest shield.”
“The spy said there’s little chance an Igrese army would survive a desert crossing,” Kallen reminded him. “And we know they do not have black magic or gemstones.”
As Balkan shook his head, Osen turned to the window and rolled his eyes. “It’s not the Igrese I’m worried about,” Balkan said. “The minefire the Thief Cery used was unlike the usual—”
“We’ll have to leave that argument to another time,” Osen said, turning back from the window. “We’ve arrived.”