Healer's Touch (25 page)

“Did you learn anything about Maxian’s problem?” Lucien asked.

“Not yet,” said Marius. “I talked to some people at the university, but I didn’t get a clear answer. There’s a disorder I didn’t know about that causes bruising, but it also has some other symptoms, such as swelling in the neck. I didn’t observe that when I saw Maxian.”

Lucien nodded. “I’ll check for swelling when I get back.”

“I’d like to talk to a few more people,” said Marius. “I don’t think I’ve explored every possibility.” He desperately hoped to find a medical cause, because the alternative was that the child was being abused, and that was a conversation he didn’t want to have with Lucien. Yet for Maxian’s protection, it would have to be done once he’d eliminated everything else. He knew at least one more Healer at the university he could speak to on the matter before he started making accusations that were sure to throw someone’s life into turmoil.

“Thank you,” said Lucien, as they clasped wrists. “And I appreciate your discretion.” He climbed into the front carriage and closed the door behind him. The drivers slapped the reins, and both vehicles rolled away.

Marius sighed and rolled his shoulders, letting out the tension of having to be “on” for an extended period of time, and in his own home at that. Finally, he could just be himself. He looked around, searching for Isolda.

She was walking away down the street, clutching Rory’s hand.

He ran after them.

When he caught up, Isolda turned and said, “I need to go home.”

“I don’t believe you’ve had supper yet,” said Marius. “I know it’s late, and the food’s cold, but I can put the soup over the fire again. You should stay here tonight, both of you.”

Isolda clasped his wrist, a formal gesture that chilled him. Why not a hug or a kiss, given how intimate they’d been?

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been very kind. But I shouldn’t stay.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” He had a terrifying sense that she was ending the relationship, or at least backing away from it.

“I’ll be at the surgery tomorrow morning,” she said.

He swallowed. That didn’t answer the whole of his question. “If you must go back, at least allow me and Drusus to escort you. I don’t know what you saw, but that woman—” He let out a breath, and paused to collect himself. “She’s just someone I have to be nice to for my cousin’s sake. I’m not interested in her. I swear I’m not.”

Isolda turned away, as if to hide tears.

“You’re the one I want,” he said softly. “Not her. Not anyone else.”

She spoke in a trembling voice. “But you will marry someone else, eventually.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” said Marius.

That seemed to be the wrong answer, because she turned and walked away, taking Rory with her.

He trotted after her. “At least let me escort you to the harbor district.” He gestured to Drusus, who caught up with them. But Isolda broke into a run, and Marius, feeling it was not proper to chase a woman, stopped and stood shivering, with his hand outstretched in the night air.

Chapter 25

Three days had passed, and Marius didn’t know what to do about Isolda. Each day, she showed up for work on time, well-dressed and smiling. She did her work with courtesy and efficiency, and in the evening, when Marius invited her back to the villa, she politely declined to join him. Every time. Neither would she let him and Drusus escort her back to the harbor district.

His affair with her had ended almost as soon as it had begun, and all because of his affectionate farewell to Gratiana, which hadn’t meant a thing. It was for Lucien’s benefit that he’d attempted to be charming. And while Lucien might have hoped a romance could blossom between him and Gratiana, it hadn’t. He had not seen the woman since.

Yet when Isolda gave him that tight smile, he saw the pain in her eyes. The problem wasn’t Gratiana or the fact that he’d kissed her hand. It was something more substantial.

At supper an hour later with Drusus, he blurted, “Why can’t I marry Isolda?”

His bodyguard answered without looking up. “Because you’re the emperor’s cousin, and she’s an illegal refugee.” They were eating pan-fried venison tonight. Marius didn’t care much for venison, but Drusus was on his second helping.

“I have no obligation to Lucien—”

“Of course you have an obligation,” said Drusus. “He’s your emperor and patron. He’s given you everything.”

“But I never asked for anything,” said Marius. “What he gave, he gave for his own reasons.”

“You accepted.”

“There was never an agreement that in exchange for his financial support, I would allow him to choose my marriage partner,” said Marius. “I’m not going to marry someone just because it nets him one more investor for the harbor. His need for investors is a short-term problem. Marriage is forever.”

Drusus snorted. “Not necessarily.”

“It ought to be.”

“Lucien never said you had to marry someone who would further his harbor project,” said Drusus. “Just someone appropriate to your station.”

“I know.” The emperor, who had been generally supportive and had legitimate reasons for being upset with the Sardossian refugees, did not deserve Marius’s pique. Marius was lashing out because he couldn’t figure out whom to be angry with. He didn’t want to disappoint his cousin, but neither did he want to marry a noblewoman appropriate to his station. He wanted to marry Isolda.

“Talk to him,” said Drusus. “He’ll hear you out.”

“I should.” The gunpowder explosion was a fading memory now. Tensions with the refugees had receded somewhat, and Lucien might be more receptive to the idea of offering Isolda long-term citizenship. But he’d likely resist the idea of Marius marrying her. Marius dreaded the conversation, all the more so because he had an additional sensitive subject to discuss with the emperor: Maxian’s bruises. He’d talked to every Healer he could find at the university, and none of them knew of a bruising disorder that would explain Maxian’s injuries. He was going to have to tell the emperor that the bruises had been inflicted by blows. But who would have the audacity to hit the emperor’s son?

“So, there you go,” said Drusus. “Next Sage’s Day when you have your lunch with him, tell him you want to marry Isolda and see what he says.”

Marius blew out his breath. “Maybe I should ask Isolda first.”

“I wouldn’t blindside the emperor,” said Drusus. “Don’t you think she’ll say yes?”

“I hope.” It was hard to be certain, given how much she’d pulled away from him of late, but his impression was that she was keeping her distance not because she wasn’t interested, but because she believed he was going to marry someone else and didn’t want a casual affair. “Speaking of the emperor, there’s something I want to ask you.”

Drusus loaded a third helping of venison onto his plate. “Go ahead.”

“The subject is a sensitive one—”

His bodyguard looked up with brows raised.

“It’s nothing you’ve done,” said Marius. “It’s just that I can’t tell you the reason I’m asking. Do you remember that time you told me Jamien wasn’t the same person in private as he was in public?”

Drusus’s face became guarded. “I don’t recall saying such a thing.”

“You said he was a terror.”

Drusus looked down at his plate. “I’m sure I didn’t.”

Marius felt profoundly sad. For all they’d been through together, did Drusus not trust him? “This is important. The emperor specifically asked me to investigate a situation I think might be related. So if you know something—”

“Sir, I do not know anything,” said Drusus. “If I did, it would not be my place to speak of it.”

Marius sighed and fell silent.

∞

Isolda tugged Rory closer to her in the crowded tavern, and stirred the contents of her bowl. The potato soup was thin, almost translucent. She brought her spoon to her lips, sampling the tasteless broth, and eyed the tavern crowd. It consisted mainly of Sardossian men who’d finished their workday. For now, they were jovial and throwing back cheap gin, but in an hour or two, this place would get rough. By then, she hoped to be safe underground with Rory.

Caz slid onto the seat next to her, setting his gin mug on the table. “Haven’t seen you here in a while. Is that Kjallan dandy treating you all right?”

“Marius is no dandy.” Caz’s mere presence relaxed her. He was a big man, and sufficiently respected that no one would give her or Rory any trouble in his presence.

“Did you two have a scrap?”

Isolda glanced at her son’s soup bowl. He’d already finished. “Rory, run home so I can have a talk with Caz.”

“I want to hear what you say about Marius,” he complained.

“Go,” she said softly.

Rory left the table, stiff-backed.

“I’ve stopped seeing him because he won’t marry me,” said Isolda.

Caz blinked. “Didn’t you just meet this man?”

“I’ve known him for a couple of months,” said Isolda. “I don’t mean he won’t marry me
now
; I mean he won’t marry me
ever
. His family is wealthy. They would never stand for me, and I think they pay most of his expenses.”

“You mean if he marries you, the flow of money stops.”

“Probably,” said Isolda. “They bring young noblewomen to his house in hopes he’ll fall in love with one of them.”

“But you’re the one who warms his bed at night,” said Caz.

“Not anymore.”

“Why throw yourself out prematurely? If the fun is going to be temporary, might as well enjoy it while you’ve got it.” He tipped back his mug, taking a swallow. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Tastes like raw pine needles.”

“You should know better than to buy gin here,” said Isolda.

Caz shrugged. “Answer my question.”

“I left because I can’t bear it,” said Isolda. “This was never just a bit of fun for me. Marius might see it that way, but I don’t. I’m in love with the man.”

“Ah,” said Caz. “Don’t you know you should never fall in love with a Kjallan?”

“I think about him day and night,” said Isolda. “I’ve never known such a man as Marius. He’s so
good
. He’s the standard by which I judge other people, by which I judge myself—”

“Come on,” said Caz. “Is he a man, or is he a god?”

“I mean it,” said Isolda.

“Nobody is that perfect.”

She shook her head. “I’m not saying he’s perfect, only that he’s the best man I’ve ever known. And so few people appreciate him! He lives simply and dresses unfashionably, and most women can’t see past that. It’s not that he doesn’t have female admirers,” she added, thinking of Lady Fabiola. “But either they’ve got some selfish agenda, or they see him as raw material to be molded into the man they really want. I want him just how he is.”

“And you’ve broken things off with him,” said Caz, “because you’re afraid he’ll marry someone else. Though no one else seems to appreciate him.”

“They appreciate his money and connections. It hurts me inside, seeing him every day and knowing that the day must come when he chooses another. If I put some distance between us now, maybe it won’t hurt so much when that happens. Maybe I’ll be able to clasp his wrist and congratulate him on his good fortune.”

“Would it be better if you didn’t work at the surgery at all?” asked Caz.

“I’ll never find a job that pays as well.”

“You’re a bookkeeper, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

“The shipping company I work for is looking for a bookkeeper. They don’t employ a lot of Sardossians, but your Kjallan is fluent now, and you’ve got the experience they’re looking for. Want me to inquire?”

“How much does it pay?”

“I can find out. Enough to keep you in bribe money, probably.”

“Thank you. I’m interested.” It made her heart ache to think of leaving the surgery. It was the best job she’d ever had, but one of the reasons she loved it was that Marius was there. Now that his presence brought her more pain than joy, it was time to get out.

Chapter 26

On Sage’s Day, Marius rode up to the palace with Drusus in tow. When he arrived at the gates, the guards, instead of taking his horse and escorting him inside, instructed him to stay where he was and wait. Knowing that Lucien was a busy man and sometimes late to his meetings, Marius dismounted and loosened Gambler’s girth.

When Lucien appeared half an hour later in the company of half a dozen Legaciatti, he was not on foot but mounted on a magnificent black horse with a long, flowing mane and tail.

Marius made the customary show of obeisance. When this was accepted, he asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

“Just out of the palace,” said Lucien. “If I have to spend one more hour among all that marble, I’ll go mad.”

Gambler was fresh enough after his breather, as was Drusus’s horse, and Marius didn’t mind a ride through the imperial grounds. The grounds were extensive, but he’d never seen more than a tiny piece of them. And considering that he had two topics of a sensitive nature to speak to Lucien about today, it would be good to leave the palace gossips behind.

Lucien led the way, setting a faster pace than Marius would have chosen. Gambler, who usually jogged placidly, lengthened his stride to keep up. Marius had not realized his horse was capable of speed. Though he knew the animal came from the imperial stables, he’d always thought of Gambler as a quiet plug.

Drusus and the other Legaciatti rode alongside.

Gambler arched his neck as if to show off, and Marius cast an admiring glance at the emperor’s horse, which Lucien rode easily despite his missing leg. The animal’s tail dragged along the ground. “Does he ever step on his tail?” Marius asked.

“The trick is not to go backward,” said Lucien.

For a while, they stayed on the main road. When they rounded a corner and a lake glistened in the lowlands, Lucien led them on a side path down to the water. There, they slowed their horses to walk along the bank. At a gesture from Lucien, the Legaciatti peeled away, giving them privacy.

Lucien spoke in a low voice. “What have you learned about Maxian’s condition?”

Here it was, the first of the conversations he’d been dreading. “I’ve spoken to several Healers at the university, and I don’t think Maxian’s bruises have a medical cause.”