Nightshade (26 page)

*

Radha stood beneath the arched entry to the balcony, her eyes on Jessa’s profile in the moonlight. Jessa sat as she always did when thinking, her legs pulled up and her chin on her knees. She had done this since she was a girl and Radha understood that it was Jessa’s form of meditation, though it was not as the Vhaelin would teach.

“Your Princess is quite charming,” Radha said. She had not been treated with so much respect since last she had seen her home, which was too many years ago to remember properly. It had been springtime, and her mother had still been alive, though that was all she could recall that seemed important.

Jessa had an easy humor and to watch her laugh so freely had been truly wonderful. Radha had not missed the way Jessa had watched Darry’s every move, her eyes hungry and longing.

Radha had smelled the blood as well, coursing thick through Darry’s veins and betraying her. She had never thought she would meet a
Cha-Diah
in her lifetime. The Golden Panther was just that, and in a strange way it did not surprise Radha. That and Darry’s beauty was a powerful mixture. Radha chided herself for not sensing it sooner. She had made broth and watched as they sat together on the balcony, Jessa making sure that Darry ate all that she was given.

“She is not mine,” Jessa had whispered after Darry left, her eyes captured by the stars.

“If you say.”

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“You still ponder Bharjah’s deeper play?”

“I have my tea with Prince Malcolm tomorrow,” Jessa said.

Radha grunted in assent. “Yes, it is time for you to be alone with him. They have followed etiquette quite well here, I will give them that. Their Queen is a formidable woman and knows the rules of the game. Are you frightened?”

“No.”

“The Prince is why you’re here, child, and Bharjah sees some—”

“I
know
what he sees,” Jessa said. “He sees a child of his blood upon the throne of Arravan.”

“Yes. And as you said, you have always been trapped and so it is no matter what you do.” Radha pricked Jessa’s temper with care. “So have your tea and smile at him, and look into his eyes. Perhaps you will like him. The rest of his family seems passable.”

“
Passable
?” Jessa’s tone was clipped in annoyance at the slight.

“All right, they seem quite lovely. Is that what you would like me to say?”

“Go to bed, Radha.”

“Are you not tired as well?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I looked into the eyes of a panther today,” Jessa said, knowing that Radha would have spied out the truth of Darry’s majik, for it still clung to Darry, and Radha was most wise in such things. It was Darry’s majik they had sensed that night on the balcony, and the strength of her blood trying to free itself.

Radha laughed her raspy chuckle. “She was big? The girl’s blood smells most powerful. The cat must be large.”

“Go to bed.”

“You as well, child.”

“I will.”

“You will wear the sable dress I made, yes? I think the Prince will like it.”

“If it pleases you, Radha.”

“It does not. Joaquin will come early to speak to you. Be prepared.”

“Go to bed,” Jessa said again. “You spend your days wandering the city and your nights prowling the corridors. You will fall asleep at the table in the middle of your dinner, and I shall have to wash your face and carry you to the divan.”

Radha laughed. “I have a bird’s bones. I am light.”

“Do not make me afraid for you as well!” Jessa snapped. “And so when you’re not looking and you’re tired, I shall find Serabee bending over your throat like a wild dog.”

“I am not so easy to kill, Jessa,” Radha said gently.

“Yes, so you keep saying,” Jessa countered quickly. “Though I’ve just seen the strongest person I may have ever met aside from you nearly laid low by her own blood. Do not let your arrogance be your undoing.”

Radha was surprised by the words but her smile was quick. She
was
arrogant and she knew it. She had reason to be. “I shall go to bed then.”

“Thank you.”

“Should I—”

“Yes, put out the dress.”

“It is only a tea, my child,” Radha said, stepping into the darkness of their chambers. “Perhaps a lunch the day beyond and a walk through the gardens the next, and then they’ll be gone for a week’s worth or more, chasing the boar and the sacred stag and hunting in the Green Hills.”

Jessa counted the stars of Attia’s spear, following the constellation upward.
And they will discuss Bharjah’s chattel come nightfall, no doubt, over spring wine and red meat. Discussing the price of my spirit and if it is pure enough and worth the price my father wishes. And what price could he possibly want?

Why would the King of Arravan take me in exchange for the Lowlands of the Taljah, when I am the daughter of all that he hates? It is the only thing that Bharjah will want. It’s all that he has
ever
wanted, a foothold within Arravan. You’re old now, Bharjah, yet you still claw at your power as if you’re a man just come of age. Do you honestly think that the High King of Arravan will hand over his most precious lands for the hand of your afterthought? That he would think me worthy of his firstborn? You are a fool then.

And should you be after a child of Lyonese blood upon the throne? Most likely you’ll be dead and rotting before that day comes. A child will take too long, and your sons thirst for their day in the sun. Do you think they will see their feast given to a child in their stead? They have been begging scraps from your table for far too long, you butcher, to allow that to happen.

Jessa rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, closing her eyes at the pieces that would not fit together.
Why am I here?

As if in answer, the memory of Darry’s subtle musk filled her senses.

Jessa stood beside the lilac trees in the courtyard and studied the arched trellis covered with ivy and hamesroot. It reminded her of the entrance to the maze and made her smile beneath her dark veil. The late-morning air was pleasant and heavy with the fading scent of the lilacs, the clusters of lavender blossoms still full as their perfume dissipated within the warmer summer temperatures.

She wore the sable dress that Radha had made, the silk an exact match to her eyes and bartered for at a great price. It was made in a similar fashion to her dress from the fête, the hem at her slipper boots shading to black as did the cuffs, though the skirt was not nearly as full.

She waited and felt as if the axe were about to fall, her mind racing with so many thoughts she could not follow them properly. Chief among them, however, was the image of her brother standing at the foot of her bed. Radha had warned her that he would come and she had prepared accordingly, though she had not been ready for that. He had been watching her as she slept, and the memory of such an insult would not let her anger fade.

“You should be up and preparing,” Joaquin said.

Jessa held the sheet to her chest as she sat up, feeling instantly exposed in her homespun shift. “I’ll be ready.”

“Will you? Where is your ugly Vhaelin bitch? Should she not be attending you?”

“She seeks food to break my fast,” Jessa lied.

“I should send Serabee to find her then, yes?”

“That is unnecessary.”

“Do not tell me what is necessary, sister,” Joaquin replied. “You have only to look beautiful and smile, not think. Never to think. You are but a sweet-smelling cunt to entice our Arravan Prince like a hungry dog, do you understand? You have no power but what is between your legs.”

“So I’ve been told,” Jessa said. That she responded at all when he insulted her surprised them both. Her anger came alive at his words and part of her welcomed it. “Then I shall wash with even sweeter smelling soaps so that my scent is strong. Would that please you, Joaquin?”

Her response made him smile. “Now is the time for your charm then, sister, yes. Their women seem to dote on you, which is good. I had not expected that. But it is Malcolm you must worry about now, yes?”

“I know why I’m here,” she answered.

His smile deepened at her words and she did not miss it. “You know nothing, as always. Do as you are told and I shall take Serabee with me to the Green Hills. Would you like that? To be completely free of his presence?” He taunted her, knowing how she loathed Serabee. “You’d not try to run?”

“Where would I go?”

Joaquin laughed. “Yes, where would you go?”

“Take him or do not take him, Joaquin. He is your dog, not mine.”

He seemed to be genuinely insulted. “
Dog?
He is a Lord of the Fakir.”

“If you insist.”

Jessa reacted as he moved about the bed, and though her first instinct was to scramble for the other side and place the bed between them, she found her feet hitting the floor beside his own, stopping him short. His apparent shock filled her with satisfaction.

“You like to mock me, Joaquin,” she said. “But you know I’m not a fool. I will do as our father bids me and snare him a prince. Then you may rise within the ranks of our blood, slitting their throats as you go. Sylban shall be happy for the company, I think, for he’s not been the same since Lybinus disappeared. Perhaps you might become his new shadow. At least your scraps would be from a better cut of meat.”

Joaquin grabbed the hair at the back of her neck, and Jessa’s head snapped back as she was pulled against him. She did not make a sound. “Serabee has always said that you were hiding. You were wise to do so.” His left hand reached up and slid with slow ease upon her right breast, cupping it before taking the nipple between his fingers and squeezing in a brutal manner. “But do not overtax yourself. You’re only the rabbit, my sister, and you know this. You have no talent for playing the wolf.”

Jessa stared into his eyes, the pain within her breast stabbing into her chest. “Then I will be a rabbit and bait your trap. How will that suit you, Joaquin?”

He laughed and shoved her away. Jessa fell to the bed and closed her eyes as he stalked to the door.

“Don’t be late. Since your whore of a mother is dead you must meet them on your own.”

Jessa lifted her face at his words and watched his back until the door slammed shut behind him.

She let out a groan of pain and pressed her breast close, and then she was up and moving, her blood surging. She took hold of the pitcher and basin from the table beside the bed and spun about, throwing one and then the other. The porcelain pitcher shattered against the wall with a splash of water; the basin followed but a heartbeat later.
“Atta fikloche tu an atta zaneesha!”
She hissed her curse.
“Shivahsa fikloche!”

Radha laughed from the shadows beside the hearth as Jessa swung toward the sound. “Should I lay out your dress now?” Radha asked. “Or find you more things that will break?”

Jessa stood at the end of the bed and met Radha’s eyes, though she was all but invisible within the cast of her spell.

“Find me food first.” Jessa’s voice shook with her fury. “Perhaps you will meet Serabee on your way to the kitchens, yes? If you intend to hide within your precious shadows when I need you most, then may you find the Blood Fires and be damned!”

Radha laughed. “Did you need me?”

Jessa stared at her.

Radha moved from the shadows and let her casting fall away as if it were one of her many shawls. “Did you need me?”

Jessa was stunned from her wrath by the answer.

“Princess Jessa-Sirrah.”

Jessa turned smoothly at the voice in the courtyard, all thoughts but one disappearing at the sound of her name.
No, I did not need you
…and then, startled, she looked up into the warm gaze of the High King Owen Durand.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Princess,” he said.

Jessa noticed his handsome silver coat and casual white tunic, his vest a deep black to match his trousers. She took a step back and bowed low.

“Princess, please don’t do that.” He extended his hand and gently pulled her to her feet. “My son is late, you see?” he said. “So I thought I might take a moment and give you my regards.”

“Good morn, my Lord,” Jessa said. She needed to clear her throat but knew it was bad form. He released her hand and she folded hers together at her waist.

By the Gods but you’re a lovely girl
, Owen thought.
How a vile creature such as Bharjah managed to get you I haven’t a bloody clue.
It was the first time they had spoken in such a manner, and though he knew her already from Cecelia, he was glad of the chance to finally form his own opinion.
“May I call you Jessa?”

“Yes, my Lord.”