Bound (20 page)

"What I would like to know, my dear, is how Marcius was able to appear to you like that. It shouldn't be possible for him, unless he's somehow escaped the Mirror in which he was imprisoned," Eliar said.

"I don't know," Fay admitted. She thought about it, tried to remember everything about that part of the encounter, but couldn't think of anything. "My father dropped his cane and his hand was at his chest when I turned around. He fell to the ground, and then Marcius stood up from where he had fallen, where he still was. It was different from-"

She had been speaking absently, lost in her recollection, and only realized in the middle of what she was saying that it was too much. Looking at Eliar and feeling Tavis' fingers stiffen around hers, she knew her slip had not gone unnoticed.

"Different from...?" Eliar prompted when she didn't finish her sentence. She could feel them all focusing on her now.

"I- I thought I must have dreamed it," she invented, trying to cover herself, knowing she would have to reveal at least some of what had happened the first time she had seen Marcius outside of her dreams. "You know I've dreamed about Marcius before, Eliar. Well, a- a couple of nights ago, I guess, I saw him here, in my room. It was after I suggested the meeting with my father. I came up to my room and was getting ready for bed, and then there was something strange in the air in the middle of the room. When it cleared up, solidified I guess, he was standing there, but then he disappeared. When I woke up, I thought I must have dreamed it, but after what I saw in the Gardensia, maybe I didn't." She closed her eyes as she finished her story, trying to make sure she had covered well enough. She wasn't entirely sure why she was lying to them about this, except that it felt right. She was sure Marcius didn't mean her any harm, and she was coming to like the way he made her feel, strong and desirable. She was sure they wouldn't understand though.

She opened her eyes when she felt the grip on her hand first tighten and then release completely. She looked at Tavis, who was now frowning at his hands in his lap. She turned to Eliar, who looked worried. "I'll have to investigate this. I don't think I've heard the like in all of my two hundred years. I must go to the Imperial Archives right away. I'd meant to before, but then this- Well, no time like the present."

He stood and left the room in a hurry. Ki stared at Fay for a minute, and she thought she read suspicion in his eyes. She shook it off, telling herself that he had no way of knowing she was holding anything back. He came around the bed and leaned down to Lydia's shoulder, whispering something that Fay thought was a request to speak with her. They both left the room. To Fay, it felt like a set up, an excuse to leave her alone with Tavis, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She tried to sit up again, not wanting to have this conversation lying down like an invalid, but was surprised at how weak she felt now that her anger had departed.

Tavis stood, gently helped her to sit up and then looked at her for a moment. Instead of returning to his seat, he grasped the back of the chair and moved it aside. "I'll see about having someone bring you some breakfast. You probably need something, and then you can rest."

"Wait," she said and was annoyed when he didn't sit back down or look at her. "Can you tell me anything about what you saw? Maybe something about what happened after I blacked out? What about my father, did you see what happened to him?"

"I didn't really see much. I heard raised voices, then the wind was rising. When I got into that square with the memoria, this Marcius was already there. After I cast the shield, he just disappeared. I was too busy trying to catch you before you hit your head to see much else. I was worried when I couldn't bring you around right away, and I brought you straight back here without thinking of anything else. I'm sorry."

"Tavis, please sit down." He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment and she wondered in astonishment if he might refuse her. He returned the chair to her bedside and sat down after a minute. "You didn't answer my question before. Why did you follow me to the Gardensia, and how did you find the right part? Why did you cast that shield? He wasn't hurting me, so why would you do that?"

Tavis looked up at her, and the expression of pained understanding in his eyes confused her. "I- It didn't seem safe, you meeting alone with your father, and I didn't have time to get anyone else. Besides, I figured that I was the one person he might not recognize. I thought that, if I was close by, I could help if he tried anything, so I followed your trace through the Gardensia. As for the shield, well, I just- I didn't know who he was, or what he was doing, but it didn't seem like a good thing for him to be touching you like that."

This last was mumbled to his lap, and Fay saw a flush creeping up his neck. She thought about what he had said and recognized the telltales of leaving out, having just gotten away with a remarkable amount of it herself. "There's more, isn't there?"

In his lap, Tavis' hands clenched on each other, as if he was trying to restrain himself. The silence lengthened and they gradually relaxed. He seemed to force himself to look back up at her, his brilliant eyes capturing hers firmly. They were full of such a tangle of emotion that she was lost trying to decipher it all. His voice was hesitant as he spoke. "I don't like the way he looks at you. It's like he thinks he owns you, like you belong to him. I- No one should try to own you, Faylanna. Not ever."

This response stunned her, confounding her expectations. She reached out and placed her hand on his. "Why did you follow me? It wasn't just about my safety, I don't believe that. There's more to it. Tell me, please."

"It doesn't matter."

"But it does. It matters to me, and I think it matters to you, Tavis. I've seen you watch me. You never say anything, but you watch like there's something you want from me. Ask me, tell me what it is." He opened his mouth but nothing came out, so she pushed a little more, hoping it wasn't too far. "No magic in the world will let me read your thoughts. You want something from me but you'll have to ask me out loud."

"You. I want you." His eyes cleared of the tangled emotions and in its place was warmth, love and a deep need. Her heart reached out almost instinctively, and she felt the same hum, the hot pulse that coursed through her when he was around and they were alone, stronger now than ever before. The silence between them lengthened as she tried to understand what it all meant. Before she could move or say anything, Tavis blinked and stood up abruptly, his face very red now. He left the room without speaking another word. As the door closed behind him, she almost called out after him, suddenly not wanting to be as alone as she felt.

She sat there, feeling torn, for several long minutes before climbing out of bed carefully and walking slowly over to the bathing room. A long soak in the tub helped rid her of the last feelings of physical weakness but did nothing to sort out the chaos in her thoughts. The only things she managed to figure out were the choice Marcius had told her to make and the way both men seemed to call to a deep part of her. Why does it always have to come down to choosing a partner, she wondered. After drying off, she clothed herself self-consciously in the dress Tavis had given her and was wondering what to do when her hand automatically slid into the pocket. She sighed in relief at finding the pendant still there. She hadn't been aware of worrying about it but was glad to discover it undisturbed.

She left the room and went downstairs. She had expected to hear something, but the house was quiet and felt empty. She wandered aimlessly through a few of the rooms, clutching the pendant in her pocket. Suddenly she missed Ganson, and wished he was there to talk to. She knew she needed advice from someone she could trust, but she wasn't even sure if Ganson was alive, or if she would ever see him again if he was. The thought set off a dull ache in her heart.

She was walking down the hall that led to the private garden when she heard the sound of paper being moved and a quill scratching in a room just ahead of her. Grateful for a sign that they hadn't all abandoned her, she peered through the doorway. An older man, with deep brown hair that hung to his broad shoulders, was bent over a desk facing the window in a study that reminded her forcefully of Ganson's in Voleno. At first, she wasn't sure who he was. She didn't remember seeing him in the house before and such a fine linen shirt, embroidered down the back from what little she could see, would have remained in her memory. Then she noticed two garments folded over the back of the chair he sat in and recognized them. The loose cream robe and black scarf Ki wore everywhere.

She struggled with her curiosity about this man now that she had a chance to see him absent the usual coverings, but there was little she could see from behind. She thought it might be just as well, as she had become sure he was using the garments to hide his identity. She had decided to retreat when he spoke without looking up or turning his head. In his voice, she heard none of his earlier anger, only amused resignation. "Come in, Faylanna. Close the door behind you and come sit. I think it's time we had a talk at last."

She again heard that note of command in the familiar voice as she obeyed without thought. Who is he that we all defer to him and he thinks nothing of that deference, she wondered. She walked around the desk toward the chair opposite him, her eyes on him as she went. She halted halfway to the chair as she recognized his profile. The reasons for so many things fell into place. He looked up at her, smiled and gestured to the chair as he set his quill down.

She dropped into the seat, shock rendering her graceless. She could not seem to get above a whisper as she said, "Crown Prince Keari."

"Yes. You have a good memory, Faylanna. It's been more than a few years since we met."

"At the Ball, when my father took me."

He smiled. "I still remember quite clearly how lovely you looked, though so young. You were eleven, as I recall."

She could only nod, her stunned wits refusing to function. She knew she should have curtseyed. She should be engaging in all the proper titles and courtesies owed to the heir to the empire, but they had fled her mind for the moment.

The prince sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on the desk. "I knew from the moment Eliar brought you here it was inevitable that you would find out who I am."

She stammered, "I wasn't trying to pry. I swear-"

He held up a hand. "Nor am I accusing you of it. I was perhaps careless in leaving the door open when I knew you were awake. Or perhaps I was eager for the relief I now feel at not having to hide in my own house." He said this last with a smile, so she knew it was a rebuke to no one but himself. "You will not be able to discuss this with anyone. Only Lydia, Eliar and my father know that I am a Magicia. It's possibly the most closely guarded secret in the empire at present."

She nodded and frowned. "But what about the Law of Succession? It says that no Magicia may rule-"

"That," he said with emphatic finality, "is my father's concern. You and I have other matters to discuss. Are you going to tell me what you were hiding from us upstairs? I know there is something you were keeping back, but not what."

She thought quickly about it, knowing she would have to tell him something, disappointed to find out that she had not been as convincing as she had believed. Then she thought about her conversation with Tavis upstairs. "I need some advice, but I would prefer it remain just between us. Is that possible?"

He watched her as he considered her words, holding his long fingers steepled in front of him. "I can agree to that, so long as doing so doesn't endanger anyone."

She had actually been more concerned that Lydia might find out, but realized that it might be out of his control to keep such promise. She didn't know enough about the bond to be sure. Putting that consideration aside, she turned his words over and decided it was as good as she was likely to get, though not what she had hoped for. "What I didn't mention, because it didn't seem important at first, was that when Marcius appeared in the Gardensia, he spoke to me. He wanted me to make a choice." She decided to leave out how she now felt capable of choosing to bond with someone, a feeling that confused her too much to speak of. "I didn't understand what he meant at the time. I think I do now, after Tavis- Well, he said that he... that he wants me."

Keari smiled. "So the boy finally told you how he feels."

She dropped her eyes, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks. Had everyone known but her, she wondered. "Yes. But now that I know there's a choice, I can't seem to sort out how to feel about either of them. And I still don't know if I want to choose at all."

The prince did not seem to catch the half-truth. It no longer seemed to be a matter of wanting to or not. She actually felt that she must bond with someone, whomever she might choose, but didn't know how to explain the sudden change. When he spoke, she could hear in his voice that he was still smiling. "Eliar mentioned to me, just after the three of you arrived here, that you had a desire to prove yourself, to prove that a Magicia doesn't need a partner to be accomplished. Is that what you mean about not wanting to choose?"

"Yes. I just- I don't want to be an adjunct to someone else. I want to be something in my own right." She was surprised to realize that, despite her newly changed feelings on bonding, this much still held true in her heart.

She heard his chair creak and then his slender fingers hooked gently under her chin and raised her face to look at him. He was leaning forward now, looking at her earnestly. "Are you sure of what it is you're being asked to choose? Do you understand the options that have been laid before you, Faylanna?"

His hand returned to the desk in front of him as he waited for her to answer. She tried to consider it, but could think of nothing that warranted his serious tone. "I'm trying to chose between two men who want to be my partner."

He shook his head. "I didn't think you really understood. I'm not going to explain it to you, because I think you need to figure it out for yourself, but you should examine closely not only what each of them offer you, but what they are asking of you in return. You might be surprised by the answer to those questions. Truthfully, I’m not sure I know the answer myself, and that makes me worry about you."