Dame of Owls (7 page)

             
“This isn’t some bar brawl,” Sid scolded. “You can’t come at me big and scary and expect me to flinch.”

             
Chris didn’t think she’d flinch at a charging grizzly.

             
He was thankful she’d picked a time early in the morning, when no one else was up except servants who carefully looked the other way. Now was the time penciled in for sleeping and nursing hangovers, if fairies got such things. At least five people had invited Chris to parties every night, but he was sick to death of drugs and drinking. He wondered if he was in for a reputation as a fuddy-duddy, or something else his Nana might say.

             
“You’re going to break my glasses,” he said, definitely not whining.

             
“You’re going to break my heart,” Sid mocked. “Up!”

             
He hauled himself to his feet, gripping the long pole in just the way she’d spent hours teaching him. They were supposed to be practicing blocks, but his lizard brain - cat brain? - kept going on the offensive, insisting that the quickest way to end a fight was with the other guy concussed.

             
Sid brought her staff down and Chris blocked exactly like he was supposed to. Again, again, and again. She was going slowly, allowing him time to get in position, and still his muscles tightened and his instincts screamed.

             
Her methodical speed left a lot of openings. Something in him, drawn too taut, snapped. He tried to knock her feet out from under her. In two swift moves Sid whacked the staff out of his hands and then rammed the butt of her weapon into his stomach. She kicked his feet while he was winded, toppling him easily. She pinned him, sitting on his abdomen with her knees trapping his arms.

             
Sid leaned down, got right in his face. “Be patient! You want to end fights like this?”

             
Her eyes were very, very green, her lips red and her mouth barely parted over perfect teeth. Chris freed one of his arms, reached up a hand and clasped it around the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her braid. She exhaled sharply, bent down to meet him in a fierce kiss before he could think to do anything else. Her staff clattered to the ground, forgotten, as she shifted her weight. That loosed his other arm, and he wrapped it around her waist.

             
Sid leaned into him, supporting her weight with one hand and resting the other on his chest, a small patch of cold. Her tongue slipped easily into his mouth, and he returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Then he pulled way, kissed her lips, the side of her mouth, her cheek, her chin, her neck, working to the crook of her shoulder and gently sucking on perfect white skin. Her moan was quiet, but distinctly pleased.

             
Using his greater weight and Sid’s distraction to his advantage, Chris rolled them over until he knelt over her, better able to caress the skin of her neck with his tongue. In retaliation, she pulled his loose shirt free of its belt and ran her hands up the naked skin of his chest. Her nails found his nipples, and he shuddered. She whimpered as he bit down lightly, mindful of his interesting new teeth.

             
Chris left her neck and kissed her once again, then hovered with her breath ghosting over his lips. “Can I – ”

             
“Fuck yes,” she hissed, which was all the invitation a man needed.

             
Underneath her shirt she had her breasts wrapped, but he could still find the hardness of her nipples with clever fingers. She squirmed underneath him, surged up to kiss him again, sucking on his tongue between breathy cries.

             
Sid lifted her hips, catching one knee around his and lifting her other leg to rub her thigh against his burgeoning erection. He ground heavily into her mouth, felt her smirk into their kiss. Chris had never been one to turn down a challenge. The ties on her trousers were easy enough to undo one handed, and she wore nothing underneath. She was already wet; he dragged his fingers through her slickness and found her waiting clit.

             
She rutted herself against him, increasing the pressure of his gentle circles and pressing herself more firmly against his harness. His linen pants were a wonderful, infuriating texture. Just enough, but not skin. He dragged his thumb across her clit and she dropped her leg, gasping. With his free hand he took one of hers and placed it on her stomach. She thrust it into his pants and grabbed hold of him, looking up at him with a sly grin and pumping steadily.

             
He strove to match her rhythm, rewarded by her hungry noises, but when she added a devious twist of her wrist he was the first one to shudder and orgasm. He muffled his outcry by biting down on her shoulder, and in a few seconds she joined him with a high, furtive whimper.

             
Chris rolled to the side and collapsed, feeling satisfied and no little bit smug. With the cold ground against his back came the embarrassing realization that yes, they were still outside. He propped himself up on his arms and looked around, half-expecting to have an audience. The practice grounds remained deserted, on-looking windows dark.

             
“Let it never be said you don’t know how to reward a girl for patience,” Sid remarked, throwing an arm over her eyes. “God, that was dumb.”

             
She couldn’t see him grinning, so he didn’t try not to. “Sorry.”

             
“No, you’re not.” She poked him in the side. “Men!”

             
“Women!”

             
Sid huffed out a laugh and pushed herself to her feet, doing up her trouser lacings. “That was – I have things to do, and I’m not saying that to run away. I’ll see you later. We’ll talk later. Go take a bath, we reek.”

             
Of sweat and sex, a potent combination for anyone not involved. Chris sat up, then reached out and grabbed her arm. He tugged her down for one parting kiss, then watched her go. He stayed there until he could wipe the stupid smile off his face.

              Sid was perturbed, and not because she’d just rounded a few more bases than she’d ever meant to with Chris. She couldn’t regret that, though she might have held off until they weren’t in the middle of the training grounds. Being at home had unsettled her in ways she hadn’t predicted, and everything felt uneasy. Everything except Chris. Maybe it wasn’t fair to him, but. It wasn’t as if he’d stick around, was it? He’d have his fill of them and go home, and they’d both be able to remember sex in stupid places with nostalgic fondness. Nothing more, nothing less.

             
She pushed away the nagging memories of his heat and concentrated on her certainty that she was missing something important. She’d distracted herself with Chris, with his training and the improvement of his biceps, to stay away from thoughts of the Lily Knight and his companion.

             
The queen’s decision had been made. Court justice would be brought to bear on the prisoners; a beheading and burning awaited them. A very circumspect beheading. The queen claimed it was a precaution to avoid panic, and Sid wanted to believe her. But that didn’t answer the question of how the Summer Court had gotten access to the House of Pines in the first place, whether this was being considered an act of open warfare, whether or not they would retaliate.

             
When Sid would be sent back to war.

             
Why this was all so focused on Chris.

             
The House of Cats could not possibly have offended the Summer Court so deeply. They had a colorful history of internal politics, but sent few children to battle. Capella was the most agreeable Lady they’d ever had, and her rule was going on three hundred years now. Sid couldn’t imagine her stirring up such trouble.

             
But the Summer queen had placed her soldiers inside Winter lands. For Chris. For one nearly mortal offshoot of a nearly inconsequential house. It didn’t add up. Time to go asking, and Sid hated asking.

             
She cleaned herself up, shunning both her usual gowns and her comfortable training gear. The trousers, shirt, and tunic she chose were those she wore under her armor: white and brown, the colors of her house, and embroidered with gold owls. The outfit made a statement, even without her mail. For the first time in too long, Sid lifted her sword off its rack and belted on her scabbard. In lieu of a shield, her sword would have to communicate her sentiments.

             
Sid’s mother had long ago retired to their estate, leaving Sid’s eldest sister as lady at Court. Sid didn’t have a
problem
with Ruby, per se, but they’d never really connected. One thousand years was something of a generation gap.

             
The House of Owls had their palace quarters nearest to the queen’s, above every other house in station. Sid was holding back on bringing Chris here, hoping to save him from swallowing his tongue. She only liked it when he swallowed hers.

             
Sid shook her head briskly to banish that thought and strode down the halls to her sister’s door. A servant stood outside, ready should anyone need him. He straightened at Sid’s approach.

             
“Dame,” he greeted her with a bow.

             
“You may announce me.” Court manners came back slowly after so long in the field. “If it isn’t a bad time.”

             
“Not at all, Dame! In fact, your sister left us with instructions to admit you at any time. Follow me.”

             
In contrast to Capella’s sun-soaked den, Ruby’s sitting room was cool and dark, livened up only by the predominance of white and gold. While the bulk of their small family was content to rest here, playing chess or what-have-you, the atmosphere always made Sid feel as if she were on trial.

             
Everyone said Ruby was Dame Aventurine’s spitting image. Sid believed them, especially since Ruby stood half a head taller than Sid herself. Dame Aventurine, famous for her spear, had surely never had to cut her pole arms down to size. Ruby did not present herself quite as forthrightly as their ancestor, but Sid had learned to be wary of her nevertheless. Their tempers were better suited to Sid staying in the barracks where she belonged.

             
“Sister,” Ruby said as they approached, laying her book to one side. “This is a surprise, especially since you failed to check in after you nearly lost a limb slaying dragons.”

             
The servant, along with the motley assortment of Sid’s relations, decided that now would be a fantastic time to be elsewhere. Sid would have liked to declare them traitors, but she hadn’t been expecting allies. Cowards, then, and useless ones on top of that.

             
“I was busy,” Sid said.

             
“I can see that. They keep you so busy, in fact, that you come to me still dressed for battle.”

             
“I’m not making a social call.”

             
“You so rarely are.” Ruby folded her hands demurely in her lap. “And yet I hear you grace the House of Cats with daily visits. Finally seeing the charm in Pollux’s attentions?”

             
Pollux was hardly a century old, and had made it clear that a half-mortal should be absolutely delighted by his notice. He was a weakling and a fop, and Sid would sooner break him over her knee than suffer through his inanities.

             
And now there was Chris.

             
“My latest mission was a Queen’s favor to their lady.”

             
“More business. And with it concluded, what could you possibly want with me?”

             
“You talk to the queen.”

             
“From time to time.”

             
Sid bolstered herself for the lie. “I want to know about the prisoners we brought back. Juniper is anxious – ”

             
Ruby scoffed. “Back to the battlefield with you, Obsidian. Your hard head is wasted here. I have already discussed things with Juniper, since I dare say that of the two of you I see her more often. Be direct with me, and stop insulting us both.”

             
Sid scowled. For once in her life Ruby could have given someone the dignity of believing they were lying well. Passably, at least.

             
“Fine, I’m curious. Why not make a public demonstration of them? Why are we keeping this hushed up?”

             
“Why not jam their heads on sticks and parade them around from horseback?” Ruby looked Sid right in the eye, spread her hands, and shrugged.

             
Sid turned on her heel. “Fine,” she managed to say through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

             
She stormed across the room, hand on the doorknob and nursing fantasies of slamming it shut behind her.

             
“This man you’re so fond of,” said Ruby, “consider his safety. At length.”

             
When Sid looked over her shoulder, Ruby had picked up her book.

---

              “You talked to my sister?”

             
Juniper refused to be intimidated. “I talk to your sisters, all of them. Quite a bit, in fact. It’s a thing that I do.”

             
“You talked to
Ruby.
”

             
“If it turns out that’s unlawful there’s an awful lot of people in for it now.”

             
Sid punched Juniper’s arm. It didn’t summon up any new remorse in Juniper, and when she didn’t flinch Sid didn’t even feel better.

             
“Your sister never hits me. She just wanted to make sure you’re doing all right, okay?”

             
“And you’re not upset?”

             
“About you being all right?”

             
“About the prisoners!” Sid exploded, glad they were in the privacy of her room.

             
“They’re being executed.”

             
“
Quietly
executed,” Sid pressed.

             
Juniper raised her eyebrows. “And that’s a bad thing now? We can’t all be Dame Aventurine. The queen has her reasons. I’ve heard them and I respect them.”

             
“What reasons?”

             
“If she wanted you to know, she’d have told you.” Juniper sighed and dragged a hand through her hair. “Look, Sid, just. Enjoy your downtime, let this go.”

             
There was something Juniper wasn’t telling her. That guilty look gave her away every time, but pushing Juniper until she countermanded the queen didn’t seem like a great move for their friendship.

             
What Sid needed was an easy mark.

---

              Patsies dumb enough to fall for Sid were few and far between, but Pollux’s dimness was begging to be taken advantage of. Maybe he was only humoring Sid because of her particularly low cut gown, but that was its own form of stupidity. If he continued on this way, he’d continue reaping the consequences of it.

             
She invited him for a walk in the gardens. He was ready to spill royal secrets on that alone. Too bad he didn’t have any. What he did have, however, was his mother.

             
“Well,” said Pollux, “I don’t mind telling you that this Chris won’t be around for very long. Mother is treating him like a guest, not like family. I think she’s having second thoughts, if you ask me. He’s not much to look at.”

             
“I didn’t drag him across the Thoroughfare for you all to tire of him so quickly.”

             
Pollux snorted. “Those orders didn’t come from Mother, you can’t blame us. I was there when she got them, straight from the queen. Of course, Mother is as happy as ever to take in a stray, but some strays show more pedigree than others after time.”

             
Something unpleasant took root in Sid’s stomach. “Did the queen explain why?”

             
Pollux looked a bit shame-faced. “They sent me out before they finished talking,” he admitted. “They sent everyone out.”

             
Sid gathered up her skirts and hurried off, ignoring Pollux shouting her name. It wasn’t far from here to Chris’s room.

             
She found her wits before pounding on Chris’s door. What was she doing here, like a bat out of hell? What proof did she have that anything was wrong? Ruby enjoyed being dire, that was nothing new. But why had the queen concerned herself with one bastard child of the House of Cats?

             
Maybe she needed Capella in her debt,
Sid reasoned to herself.
Maybe there are a million Court politics you don’t understand.

             
She could hardly storm into Chris’s room and declare him under her protection from some vague and probably imaginary threat. He’d have to be a servant for that, or family. She had to stop nursing paranoia; this wasn’t the front lines. Still, she didn’t believe in withholding warnings.

             
Sid knocked very civilly and without panic.

             
Chris looked pleased to see her. “We’re not supposed to be practicing, are we?”

             
Not until both of them remember what practicing actually meant.

             
“No. You like talking to me, so.” She shrugged. “I’m just here to talk.”

             
“Come in.”

             
At some point someone had procured Chris glasses in popular fae fashion. The silver wire they’d chosen didn’t suit his features, in Sid’s opinion.

             
He closed the door behind her and offered her a seat on the couch. She declined in favor of standing strong and squaring her shoulders.

             
“I have reason to believe your family is not telling you the whole truth.”

             
He smiled wryly. “They are fairies.”

             
“Well, yes.” They’d never shake their own natures. “And because they’re fairies, please just – keep an eye out and an ear open for anything suspicious. Anything strange?”

             
“Stranger than you?” He took a step towards her. “Stranger than me?”

             
Sid let him rest his hands at her waist. It was oddly comfortable, this way. She didn’t lean into him, but she liked knowing she could if she wanted to. She reached up and cradled his jaw in her palm.

             
“I also wanted to, well.” Do something that didn’t exactly come natural to her. “Say I’m sorry, for kidnapping you. For dragging you into this.”