Beneath the Veil Page 13

  My throat felt raw, my lungs seared, but I gulped more water and kept my feet. I wiped my streaming eyes with my sleeve. Daelyn frowned at me, and I could only give him an apologetic look.

  "Your fetchencarry doesn't like our decision, I take it." Rosten gave a leering smile.

  "It's not his place to like or not to like." Daelyn sat back down in his chair and motioned for me to stand again at his back.

  "And you, my lord prince?"

  Daelyn turned to Rosten and said nothing for a moment that felt like forever. "Don't ask me what I like or do not like, Rosten, unless you're prepared to hear the answer."

  Rosten bowed his head, though I could still see the quirk of his nasty smile. "As you wish. My prince."

  Daelyn waved toward the women, who had remained silent and still this entire time. "Don't keep them waiting any longer."

  At his words, the smallest woman collapsed into a black puddle. The hem of her kedalya flew up to reveal trim, shapely ankles and feet encased in soft slippers. At the sight, a few of the men on the dais let out cries as full of disgust as if she had vomited on them. Simelbon got to his feet and pointed, shouting, "Cover her, now!"

  Fiesco bent to haul the woman to her feet. She lolled, boneless, in his arms. He slapped at the round form of her head through the fabric of her veil, but she did not respond. His movements made her garment ride up even farther, to the flesh of her thighs.

  "Prince of the Land Above!" Rosten's curse roared through the room. "Get that folly covered, man!"

  The girl began to move. Her arms and legs swam as Fiesco yanked her to her feet. Her small cry sent another wave of shocked disgust rippling through the Council of the Book.

  Daelyn got to his feet. "Take her away, Fiesco."

  He'd given the command in a quiet voice devoid of the frenzied disgust the other members of the Council of the Book used. Fiesco nodded and put his arm around the woman, then led her toward the double doors. The other two followed her.

  "I did not dismiss you!" Rosten's cry made Fiesco pause. "She'll have to be punished further, now!"

  "Why?"

  Rosten turned to stare at Daelyn, and I believe the expression of surprise on his face was genuine. "Because she showed her flesh. Because she spoke in the presence of men who are not of her household. These crimes cannot go unpunished. Instead of losing her dominant hand, she'll have to lose both."

  Daelyn got to his feet again, this time to face Rosten. The Book Monster stood a few inches taller than the prince, but Daelyn still seemed the larger man. Rosten lifted an eyebrow in a look of insincere confusion.

  "My lord prince? Do you disagree?"

  Daelyn did not turn to look at the women, who had paused with Fiesco at one set of double doors. "A folly without hands is of no use to her household."

  Rosten's smug grin made me want to puke. "Perhaps you may be right."

  Daelyn's profile was as hard as stone. He didn't even blink when he said "Put her to death, instead."

  The room fell into silence at his words. Several of the council members exchanged glances of surprise. Simelbon grinned wide enough to crack his face. Adamantane's jaw dropped. Rosten gave the prince a look of shrewd appraisal, then nodded.

  "As you wish, my lord. It shall be so."

  The girl cried out again and was silenced by a cuff to the head from Fiesco. The man's face had paled, and his hand tightened almost protectively around the girl's kedalya-shapeless waist.

  "My lord –"

  "I've given my command." Daelyn left the dais and headed for the entrance through which we had arrived. "Make it so."

  He'd gone out the door and I heard the click of his heels in the hall before I gathered my wits enough to follow him. I had to run to catch up, and when I did, he'd already reached the entryway of the building. He didn't pause, but banged out through the front doors hard enough to slam them against the walls on either side. I followed.

  I had to take two strides for every single one of his. I thought he might head straight for his chambers, but instead he went to the fight field. A straw-stuffed dummy, left there from Lir's earlier lessons, stood sentinel. Without pause, without sound, Daelyn whipped his sword from its sheath and sliced it. His blade caught the dummy's tattered clothes and tore them off. Next, he stabbed the straw figure straight to the heart, pulled out the blade and with a motion so swift and seamless he appeared to be floating, he stabbed the place on the figure's blank face where the eyes should have been.

  "Get a blade," he said in a low voice, still facing away from me.

  I didn't wish to see his face. I did as he asked and returned in moments from the armory. Daelyn hadn't moved. His shoulders heaved. His sword hand trembled. He turned, his face pale beneath the cosmetic and his lips pulled tight in a grimace.

  He raised his sword and I did the same. Then he came at me, slashing and dancing, and it took all my skill to keep away. I might've had the benefit of Lir's tutelage, but something fueled Daelyn that day and made him impossible to beat. In moments his blade was at my throat and I knelt before him, panting, waiting to feel the steel slice my flesh and spill my blood. I thought he meant to kill me.

  At the last moment he blinked and pulled his sword. Breathing hard, he tossed the weapon to the ground and offered me a hand up. I took it, still uncertain about how to react to him.

  I was completely unprepared for him to punch me in the face. I stumbled back with the taste of blood in my mouth and my vision gone momentarily dark from the bright, exquisite pain. My arms flailed, and I kept my feet. My own fury filled me at his abuse. This man to whom I had pledged my loyalty had struck me for no good reason.

  My fists clenched and I swung. I missed, though not because he moved out of the way. Daelyn didn't move at all. Rock-solid on his feet, he didn't even blink when my fist passed within a hair's breadth of his cheek. I'd missed because of the pain doubling my vision. I wouldn't miss again.

  Though it seemed like eternity, only a moment had passed since my hand flashed past his face. Immediately my other hand came up, ready to strike. This time, Daelyn did move. He ducked and punched me in the gut at the same time.

  This wasn't the Art. This was street fighting at its worse, or its best. I doubled over and his knee came up to catch me beneath the chin. My teeth came down on my tongue. I spat. The sight of the dark blood on the crimson of his doublet stopped me.

  "My prince," I managed to say through a mouth full of blood. I lowered my hands. "I plead your mercy."

  "No mercy!" Daelyn shoved my shoulder. "No, Aeris! I'm hitting you! Hit me back."

  I shook my head. "My prince –"

  "Call me by my name!" He ordered. "If I am going to beat the shite out of you, you might as well do that."

  "No." Again, I shook my head. Fury still clenched my fingers against my palm, but I steadied myself. I breathed in, then out, as Lir had taught me. Blood dripped from my nose and my mouth, and I spat again. "I can't fight you."

  "The fuck you can't!"

  All at once, I realized he was weeping. "Daelyn..."

  He put up his hands. Tears made streaks in his cosmetic and pooled in dark puddles at the corners of his eyes. "Hit me, Aeris! I order you to!"

  "I can't do that."

  "Damn you, you sodding little bastard!"

  His insults slapped at me, but the sight of his tears had made me step back. "My prince, tell me what I can do."

  He gritted his teeth. "You can fight me."

  "Are you angry with me?"

  He swiped at his cheeks. "I am angry, Aeris. And I fear if I don't fight, if I can't rid myself of this fury, it will consume me."

  I knew the relief a fist could provide. I knew how physical pain could keep my mind from dwelling on grief or fear. And yet, though his initial attack had made me rise to meet it, the idea of fighting him went against what I'd been raised to do. He was the Prince Regent of Alyria, and I a seller of melons. It wasn't my place to raise a hand to him, even if he should order it, and not only for tha
t.

  Because I loved him.

  "I can't fight you."

  He swung and his blow caught the side of my face in an open-handed slap that rocked my entire body. "Coward. Fear or love, Aeris?"

  "How can you ask me?" I cried. "If I fear to hit you, or if I love you too much to hurt you, what difference does it make?"

  He swiped again at his face and smeared the rouge and lipstick I had earlier so carefully applied. "Dare you judge me for what I did to that folly, yet you won't raise your hand to me?

  "You sent her to her death!"

  "I put her out of her misery!" His shout echoed around the fight field. His voice shook and cracked. "She would have lived a useless life without her hands, Aeris! Better she die than live like that!"

  Abruptly, he turned and left me. Twilight had begun to nudge its way across the sky, and his hair gleamed in the failing light. I spat another mouthful of blood onto the muddy ground. By the time I caught up to him again, he'd reached the double doors leading out to the street. He stiffened when he heard the click of my boot heels on the marble floor. Without turning, he spoke.

  "Don't."

  Then he pushed through the doors and left me there, alone. My gut twinged, and I suddenly wanted to cry. I didn't ponder overlong on what he meant. Don't follow. Don't speak. Instead, I went back to the luxurious chambers he so graciously allowed me to share, and I bit back my sobs while the blood trickled down my throat and made me want to gag.

  When I opened the door, Lir looked up from the book he'd been reading. The grin faded from his face when he saw me. "What the hell happened to you?"

  "Daelyn," was all I managed to say before Lir was on his feet with his hands fisted in my collar.

  He pulled me toward him. "Where's Dae?"

  "I don't know." I put my hands over his and pried his fingers away. It was a testament to his distraction that he allowed me to. "He ran away."

  "Damn him." Lir punched his fist into his palm. "I told him –"

  He stopped. I didn't bother to ask him what he meant. The look on his face showed me he wouldn't tell.

  "What happened today?"

  I told him about the Council of the Book, and what Daelyn had done. Lir muttered a low curse when I told him how Daelyn had ordered the woman put to her death instead of merely allowing her to have both hands amputated. Then he nodded.

  "You might think him overly cruel, but he did what he thought it was merciful. Rosten and his cronies would have had the folly crippled for their pleasure. Daelyn gave her the right to die in dignity, at least."

  I was bone weary and my belly twisting itself into knots, but I answered him anyway. "I don't understand. Daelyn is the Prince Regent of Alyria. Why can't he just overrule Rosten? Why can't he control the Council of the Book? He could have pardoned them."

  Lir ran his hands through his thick, dark hair and shook his head. "Even as King, Daelyn wouldn't have that kind of absolute power. The power belongs to those who control the governing body. The council systems. Each man on every council has a vote. Daelyn is popular, but Rosten is very powerful."

  "But if Daelyn were King," I said, "he'd be able to overrule some of those men, wouldn't he?"

  Lir nodded. "As King, as the man who has guaranteed a male heir for the Avigdor line, Daelyn will gain some privilege in the councils he doesn't have now. But as Prince Regent, he can still be outvoted."

  "I didn't know."

  Lir raised an eyebrow. "You're not alone. The citizens of Alyria throw flowers and kisses to their Prince Regent, but they don't understand the ones who are making the laws and passing the judgments are men like Rosten, Adamantane and Simelbon."

  Another cramp jabbed my stomach, and I winced. "Where do you think he went?"

  "Who knows where the reckless son-of-a-bastard went?" Lir scowled.

  I thought Lir knew exactly there Daelyn might have gone, but he wasn't telling me. I put a hand to my stomach, then took it away when Lir looked at me too closely. "He was very angry."

  "And he did that to you?" Lir's hand touched my cheek, which felt puffy.

  "It's nothing I haven't had before." I met his eyes boldly, and he had the grace to smile sheepishly.

  "You're tough, Aeris. But he shouldn't have hit you."

  "I don't mind. He was upset."

  Lir gave an exaggerated shudder. "Sinder's Balls, lad, you're not one of those who take pleasure in pain, are you? One of those mincing men who adore the cat-strap and make their lovers adorn them with pins instead of posies?"

  "No!" Now it was my turn to scowl. I gave him my back. "And Daelyn is not my lover."

  Silence behind me. A soft scuffling I refused to turn and acknowledge. Finally, "I know that. I was teasing you."

  "Well," I said coldly, "I wish you wouldn't."

  "Fine." He said nothing else, and after a moment, I heard the door open and close. He'd left me alone.

  In the privacy of my privy chamber, I stripped off my clothes and found more blood. My belly cramped, and a hot blood leaked between my thighs. I found the rags I'd kept and rolled them tightly, then tucked them inside my body. I washed my hands, my face, between my legs, and then I dressed in a fresh nightrail and took myself off to sleep.

  I didn't sleep well, if at all. My ears perked at every noise, and at every chime my eyes flew wide open. Daelyn didn't return until the city bells had tolled four times. The darkest part of the morning, and the coldest.

  I heard him enter the chambers with little attempt at secrecy or discretion. I'd left a lamp burning for him and could see the golden flickers of light through the crack in the curtain to my niche. Shadows loomed monstrous in the flickering lamplight. I heard him mutter, then curse, and then the crash of something that had me leaping to my feet.

  He'd knocked over a pile of books I'd left on the table. They'd scattered around his feet, spines bent and cracked, pages torn. He stared down at them. His hair hung loose and obscured his face.

  "Daelyn?"

  He looked up at me. I'd been half-expecting to see bruises and blood, but his face bore nothing more than a few slight scratches. His cosmetic had smeared and washed away, leaving him looking exhausted. He made as though to bend and gather the books littering his shoes, but I knelt before he could and tossed them aside.

  I got up and reached for his hand. His fingers were cold in mine, and I realized he wasn't wearing his coat. His fine white shirt was torn and filthy, his trousers much the same. His stockings had been ruined. Wherever he'd been and whatever he'd been doing, it had taken its toll on his clothes.

  "Sit down. I'll get you something to eat and drink."

  "I'm not hungry."

  "Drink, then. Spiced, warm wine." He made no protest, and I rung for a folly. She materialized within moments. I had time to wonder at how swiftly she'd arrived before I told her what to bring and she glided off on slippered feet to fulfill my orders.

  I settled Daelyn into an overstuffed chair and unlaced his shoes. They were ruined. I tossed them aside, then pulled down the tattered stockings. His feet were icy as well, and wet.

  "It's raining." He said the words so offhandedly I almost didn't know what he meant, but quickly realized as I chafed his frozen feet. "There must be several inches of it by now."

  I left him for a moment and filled a basin with warm water, then brought it back and slid his feet into it. He hissed, but didn't pull them away. His hand touched my head, and I looked up.

  "I found my fight," he whispered.

  I tilted my head against his touch. His knuckles were bruised, the skin broken. Dirt grimed his fingernails. I got another basin of water and brought soft soap and clean towels. I washed his wounded hands and dried them, then smoothed them with the ointment that had helped me so many times already.

  "You should go to sleep."

  He nodded, his eyes heavy and his head bent low. He sighed. "Thank you, Aeris."

  I didn't want him to thank me. I wanted him to love me. "It's my duty."

  He touched m
y hand as I moved to rise, and I looked at his face. He studied me for so long I had to look away. "Yes, it is," is all he said in the end, and allowed me to help him to his privy chamber.

  I bent to pick up the books he'd dropped. Lir had been reading them. A History of Alyria. Volume Seven. I touched a torn page lightly, but closed the book without reading it. I had no interest in the past just then.

  As I returned the books to their places on the shelves, Daelyn came out of the privy chamber. He'd washed his face and braided his hair, and put on the clean nightrail I'd laid out for him. He was just turning to get into the bed when a pounding on the door startled us both.