Chương 106: Chapter 101

Talena Rian had found someone to dance with now, isn't that adorable? My anti-social big brother, all grow'd up. I caught it at the edge of my attention, the rest of which was spent on not saying anything to Prince Ardeshir, the asshat, that would set off a war. I tried to hide the smile as my brother crossed the floor, his regal bearing in place despite him being a big ol' fat goof. Akemi, for her part, looked surprised but handled it with grace. She took his arm and he guided her smoothly to the dance floor.

This was going to be a thing. The rumor mill would be working overtime before the end of the gala. I think I'm okay with it. A little gossip that had nothing to do with wars or rumors of wars or asshole princes is fine with me. They moved well together. Rian was handsome, sort of roguish, probably not as well put together as a prince should be. Akemi, on the other hand, was absolutely perfect as usual. The woman was a walking portrait. It was unbelievable.

I let myself notice it for exactly one second before turning back to the considerably less pleasant situation in front of me. Ardeshir had been talking for approximately twelve minutes. Twelve painful, agonizing minutes in which I wanted to jam a fork in my ear. I knew this because I had been counting, and counting was better than saying what I actually thought, which would have started a diplomatic incident. Though saying what I thought was probably better than jamming a fork in his ear.

No, no, my father would get upset with me. Oddly enough, Ardeshir was intelligent. The intelligence was real, buried under the performance of it. Real capability often hides behind the love of the display, and if there was a single unifying description for Ardeshir, it was that. He was also genuinely handsome, broad-shouldered and strong-featured, built and trained to project physical authority. He knew it. That was the problem. He led well. I gave him that. He had the sort of false modesty that fooled most people.

It didn't fool me.

"Princess. The Western Bloc is shifting," he said, as though the analysis were a favor.

"Ava has seen this for some time. The traditional balance between the major Dominions is becoming less relevant as the Atillia situation develops, especially if they make good on their secession. There will be a consolidation. The Bloc will need to present a united front."

"Mm," I said.

"Vera is well positioned," he continued. It was a compliment with a condition folded into it.

"Strong military tradition. Stable internal structure. The tournament demonstrates that the next generation has substance. All of that is valuable."

"I am glad you think so," I said. He smiled. A very practiced smile.

"But value requires alignment to be realized. Vera alone, in the coming period, will find the position difficult to maintain. The Western Bloc will consolidate around a center. Ava will be that center." He paused for what I understood was intended to be a meaningful beat.

"That makes certain alignments considerably more significant than they might otherwise appear." I looked at him.

"You are suggesting," I said, "that I would be wise to attach myself to that center."

"I am suggesting," he said, warm, as though the distinction were a kindness, "that the opportunity exists. And that it would not exist indefinitely." I reached back with my mana, a habit by now, and felt the deep, held current of Cipher's presence push back, gentle and from all around him. Steady. I returned my attention to Ardeshir and made a decision.

"I appreciate the analysis, Prince Ardeshir," I said.

"The framing of Ava as the natural center of Western Bloc consolidation is an interesting position, though I suspect the other major Dominions would find it equally interesting for different reasons." His smile held. He was not quite hearing what I was saying.

"And the personal connection you mentioned," I continued, keeping my voice pleasant and even, "I am afraid I have to decline. I am in love with someone else." His smile changed. A small fault opening in it. I tried not to smirk. How on earth did he not see this coming? Did he honestly think my disdain for him was what? Foreplay? Ardeshir's face stayed in that unnatural thing he called a smile. Then he laughed. A genuine laugh, which was in some ways more insulting than a performed one. He found it actually funny.

"In love," he repeated. The warmth in his voice had acquired an edge of indulgence.

"With whom, may I ask?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"That is not information I intend to share," I said.

"Someone at court," he said, narrowing a field he assumed was small.

"Someone from one of the Pillar Houses, perhaps. Valmor is charming, I grant you that."

"It is not Kaereth Valmor," I said.

"Then who?" He said it lightly, certain the question answered itself.

"There is no one in this generation who compares to what I and Ava offer. I say that not as arrogance but as an honest assessment of the landscape."

"Trust me, he more than compares." He tilted his head slightly.

"Certainly you jest. Who could compete with me, Talena?" Notice how it went from compare to compete. That fact wasn't lost on me. I looked at him steadily.

"Someone who has never once in our entire conversation mentioned himself," I said. That landed. Something moved through his expression with an edge to it, sitting underneath the polish he had been wearing all evening.

"You are being difficult," he said. The warmth had thinned considerably.

"I am being honest," I said.

"Which I suspect you encounter less often than you would benefit from." He stopped moving. The dance required movement; without it he was no longer dancing so much as holding me in place, and his hand on my waist had shifted, the grip moving from the formal hold of the pattern into something far more aggressive. It was not comfortable.

"I think," he said, his voice lower, "that you are making a mistake. I think in the morning you will understand that." I tried to step back. His arm did not yield. His other hand found my wrist. The grip there was tighter, far more strength than was appropriate, and it closed further, and the pain of it was sharp and immediate and I would not give him the satisfaction of showing it on my face but it was there.

"You think love is a luxury you get to indulge," he said, his voice dropping low enough that the nearest guests could not hear, but every word next to my ear was like a warning gong. The warmth was entirely gone now, the polished veneer stripped off to show what sat underneath. It was ugly and possessive, and not in the "I think this is good for my career" way.

"You are a princess of a middling Dominion that is about to become irrelevant. You do not get to be in love. You get to be useful. You get to stand at the side of the man who will run the Bloc and be thankful for the position. That is what women in your position are." I narrowed my eyes.

"You are the type of man that stands on the heads of others and calls it progress. That pushes others down to push yourself up. You're not a leader, Ardeshir. You're a jester, not even a funny one. The man I love is better than you, in EVERY way." I let the implication hang in the air. His face went even darker. I would have laughed in his face if it wasn't so serious.

"This man you are mooning over." He said it like he was describing something he had stepped in.

"It's the mercenary, isn't it." I didn't say anything, just sneered.

"A princess of one of the Four Major Dominions of the Western Bloc in love with a mercenary. You are living in a fantasy world. You think a man who hides his face and sells his sword gives a single thought to you beyond the contract he signed? You are a political asset in a pretty dress, Talena. The sooner you understand that, the easier your life will be." He pulled my wrist toward him. My arm twisted at an angle it was not designed for.

"Ava does not ask twice," he said.

"I came here to offer you an extraordinary opportunity. You should be grateful. Women far above your station would kill for this conversation. For my attention. It's time to decide, Talena. Announce the engagement and take your place by my side. I will allow you to bear my sons. It's the most important thing you will ever accomplish." The pain in my wrist had moved from sharp to white hot.

"Let go," I said, letting the ice in my voice be heard. I had run out of diplomacy. I let the feeling into my Expression Resonance.

"When I am ready," he said.

"After you understand the opporunity I am providing you and acknowledge your place."

"You will let go, or your opportunity is about to get a fist in the face," I snarled. He let out a laugh that transformed into a sneer of his own. He squeezed harder and dug his fingers into the small of my back. I closed my eyes for a moment, just about to retaliate, and then the hand on my wrist was gone. I opened my eyes to Cipher's hand around Ardeshir's throat the killing intent behind it was so cold it was like I was back at Virex Caelum, in the middle of the night, in a blizzard. The music stopped.

The room stopped with it, and so did every conversation around us. Every significant person in that hall, every heir, diplomat and power broker who had spent the evening performing their own importance for each other, stopped and simply stared.

The King, the Queen, the crown princes, the clan heirs, the named mercenaries and the political architects of the next generation of the Western Bloc all stood in funeral silence, like someone had actually died, and watched the Crown Prince of Ava dangle by the throat from a masked mercenary's hold, his feet not quite finding the floor, his hands closing on nothing. I had seen very few things in my life as clarifying as that image. And awesome. Very awesome.

"Do you know who I am?" Ardeshir said. His voice had lost its practiced register entirely and was weezing as Cipher held him without struggle.. Ardeshir struggled and what came out was raw and furious. It was considerably less composed than anything he had produced all evening.

"Do you have any idea what you have just done? Take your hands off me. Take your hands off me right now or I will have you destroyed. I will have everything you are burned to the ground, do you understand me? You are nothing. You are a contractor in a mask and you have just ended yourself." Cipher said nothing. He raised his free hand and slapped Ardeshir across the face with the flat of his palm. The sound carried across the silent hall with extraordinary clarity. Ardeshir's head snapped to the side.

His expression, when it returned to center, had crossed beyond fury into a territory that had no name in polite company. Someone had just rearranged the world with one open hand, and it had happened to him. Cipher looked at him for one moment. Ok I don't actually know he was looking at him. I assume so but the mask makes it hard to tell.

"Listen gutter scum. You do not touch the princess like that," he said.

"Ever." Then, like he was flicking a rag, he threw him. It wasn't SUPER hard. Just enough force to get the point across, and not one increment more. Ardeshir crossed four meters of polished mayrock before he found the floor, and he found it hard, and he stayed down a moment longer than anyone expected of a man with his capability. Cipher stood in the space where the dance had been.

His attention left Ardeshir on the floor and went to the northern wall, to the accumulated weight of something that had been building at the edges of the room all evening, to the mercenaries whose formation had shifted while everyone's attention was on the dance floor. His voice carried into the silence.

"Stop playing games. I know you're there. Come out. Let's get this over with." The hall was completely still. Along the northern wall, the people began to move.