Red Rope of Fate (17 page)

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Authors: K.M. Shea

BOOK: Red Rope of Fate
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Tari stared at the tea table some more, deep in thought. “He had you transferred the day after he realized I could
speak Calnoric…and he doesn’t like it when I talk to My Crown Princess Yvrea.”

“Do you think he is the culprit behind the attacks?” Arion asked.

Tari shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Neither do I,” Arion said, drawing Tari’s attention.

“Why not?”

“Attempting to separate us is a very different idea than kidnapping an elf and beating a captain. For starters if it was discovered he risks his status. King Petyrr would not hesitate to
exile him and crown his second eldest son as his heir. Although I’m not certain what merit there is in separating us.”

“His dislike of us has confused me as well,” Tari admitted. “But I can’t think of anyone else who would try to injure you and kidnap me. Surely not
Queen Luciee?”

“No. She has even more to risk than Crown Prince Benjimir and cares less than he does. She is the social harpy and runs the courts on a leash. However, she always treats the elves with respect and honor. I do not think it to be
in her character to harm you. Whoever it was has a crafty mind and a deep pocket. Hiring four men to impersonate gate guards is no small feat.”

“Who else could it be? It must be someone who knows elves, and they
must
be unhappy about
something
. What if it’s—,” Tari cut herself off as she stared at the far wall of her room.
No. It couldn’t be. The idea is preposterous. It goes against everything in our nature…but don’t I go against our nature as well?

“Did you think of someone?” Arion asked.

“Perhaps,” Tari said, her voice soft. “But I cannot prove it yet.”

“You will tell me when you can?”

“I will… but Arion, this will be something I will take care of if my suspicion is correct. Do you understand?”

Arion pressed his lips together in a slight frown. “I don’t. But I will accept it,” he said before standing. “Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?”

Tari set her comb on the tea table before standing as well. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary. Thank you for the offer though,” she smiled, briefly hugging herself.

Arion raised a hand, which for once was not covered by a glove, to Tari’s hair. “I am sorry about your hair,” he quietly said, combing his hand through it.

Tari smiled. “It will grow back. Besides, it’s still long enough to use my new flower hair ornament.”

Arion did not return the smile as he tugged slightly on Tari’s much shortened hair. “I am glad you were not hurt,” he said.

Tari took a step closer to Arion so his arm did not have to stretch to reach her. “I am glad they didn’t hurt
you.
You were the one they almost hit with the mace.”

“Not really,” Arion said, sliding his free hand around Tari’s waist. “I knew you would escape,” he said, tilting his head lower.

Tari’s heart beat in her throat. “Oh? You have such faith in me?”

“Absolutely,” Arion said before lowering the remaining
distance and kissing Tari.

In spite of the great amount of time Arion gave her to pull away, Tar
i was still ill prepared for it.

It was warm and very….careful. There was no hesitation, and Arion certainly pressed against her lips with pressure, but the whole thing
felt
cautious
.

Arion
stopped playing with Tari’s hair and instead held the back of her neck, gently rubbing her jawbone with his thumb. It seemed to last forever, but Tari wasn’t sure as she was surprised beyond words and actions. Arion started to pull away, ending the kiss, and Tari tensed for the second before he eased his lips off hers.

Meek. His kiss felt meek. Not in the human sense of the word—not timid. More in the elvish sense, power under control. Because right before Arion pulled ba
ck, Tari got the same feeling she once did as a child when she played in a tiny stream while a huge, powerful damn held back a flood of water behind her.

As Tari opened her eyes her heart resumed pounding, and she realized how much trouble she
was in. First of all, Arion was obviously oblivious to elvish customs. Secondly, she could feel her emotions and feelings leaking out of her like a sieve.

There was little she could do to amend t
he first issue—especially now, the mortification!—but she could certainly try to control the second.

Tari kept her face a blank mask as she wrestled her renegade feelings into submission—
attempting to ooze calmness. When she finally felt like she could look at him without her world twisting, Tari glanced at Arion, who was still holding her waist and neck.

Arion’s eyebrows were furrowed, the corners of his lips were pulled down, and his eyes swirled like rainclouds in a downpour.

The captain was frowning, and Tari’s heart broke just a little.

“Sleep well,” Arion said, taking a step back and removing his hands from Tari. He turned on his heels and swirled out of the room, his cape billowing behind him, before Tari could utter a response.

The door clicked shut and Tari blinked back a dusting of tears. “Mutt,” she muttered.

 

 

Chapter 8

Not a Lush

“You are looking very
commanding this morning, My Lady,” Evlawyn carefully said as she poured a cup of breakfast tea for the irate Tari.

Tari was sitting primly on the settee, her back ramrod straight, her eyes thin slits of anger, her every gesture performed with angry elegance.

“That uncouth soldier boy is far too informal,” Tari snarled.

She spent most of the night containing her feelings
or talking with King Celrin about the attack. Now that enough time had passed, Tari reasoned Arion would have no idea that her raging emotions were a result of last night.

“What did the captain do?” Evlawyn asked
. “When I took my leave last night everything was fine.”

Tari clicked her mouth shut and bought herself time by sipping her tea.

It was true that the elves were in many ways more affectionate that humans. Linking arms, hugging, and general contact were a baseboard in the elvish culture. Generally, elves were considered the more touchy-feely race. But Tari knew—as Arion had once grumbled—that her culture also consisted of beings that were more innocent than humans.

Kissing was a perfect example. Before last night Tari had been vaguely aware that humans had different rules in
regard to that display of affection. At least, they
must
, because in elvish culture kissing on the lips was not even
thought
of
until one was engaged. It was viewed as an intimate expression that would be reserved for your one life partner.

Obviously this was not so for the humans.

Tari finally had an inkling of what Arion was referring to by ruined reputation, because she knew this kiss was
not
something she could tell Evlawyn.

“He, just. He…,” Tari stumbled for a moment. “He happened to—he was ill mannered!”

Evlawyn heaved her eyes to the ceiling. “My Lady, we have already established that Captain Arion is not the brightest in terms of social rules. I thought you agreed to overlook that particular flaw of his.”

“It still annoys me,” Tari stewed over her tea, taking a sip before gesturing for Evlawyn to sit with her.

Evlawyn shook her head in amusement. “You will forgive him,” she predicted as she sat down.

“By the heavens
, I hope not,” Tari said before shifting her weight and placing her tea cup on the tea tray. “Evlawyn, would you mind delivering two letters to Seer Ringali for me?”

“Certainly, My Lady,” Evlawyn said, bowing her head.

“Evlawyn, this is not a task as simple as it sounds,” Tari said, pulling the letters out from underneath the settee cushion. “No one can know you are giving him this,” she said, passing them over.

Evlawyn took it, her eyes widening at the seal stamped on the back. “That’s Our King Celrin’s—,” she gaped, cutting herself off.

“It is. The letter should allow Seer Ringali access to Haven’s dungeon,” Tari grimly said. “The men from the first assault against me are still imprisoned, and the humans have proved unable to remove information from them. Seer Ringali will provide a proper incentive to make them speak.”

Evlawyn swallowed sharply.
“If Our King Celrin is involved then…,” she trailed off, unwilling to speak.

“Yes,” Tari
acknowledged. “The one who sent out these attacks is an elf. That is why it is crucial we act now.”

Evlawyn stood and bowed—a gesture markedly more powerful than her usual curtsey. “Seer Ringali shall receive the letters, My Lady. And no one will know who sent them.”

“I was surprised to read your suspicions,” Seer Ringali said as he and Tari walked together, arms linked, in the gardens.

“And?” Tari asked.

Seer Ringali glanced behind them, keeping his body language carefree as he replied. “You are correct. The prisoners spilled their souls about it before I was able to expound on the fragility of the human spine.”

Tari sighed deeply and shut her eyes in pain. “I did not think he was capable of such a thing.”

“We were foolish to bind him in the first place. He was an Evening Star candidate once, did you know that? In the end we passed over him because he did not display enough loyalty to humans,” Seer Ringali said, using a wax paper parasol to push aside a bush branch. “You will challenge him?”

Tari’s eyes popped open as her anger returned. “I will. He will be taught a lesson.”

Seer Ringali nodded. “I am, naturally, one of your seconds. We are ornamental in your case but still necessary. You will let me know when you challenge him?”

“I will,” Tari agreed as the popped out at the end of Rosewood
Park.

“You will tell your
wolf man,” Seer Ringali ordered more than said. “He deserves to be informed of the situation. He deserves to observe the duel.”

Tari glanced at her teacher. “If he observes he’ll know the whole truth of the Evening Stars.”

Seer Ringali waggled his umbrella before giving the cherry blossom pattern on it a disgusted sneer. “We Evening Stars have never hid. Ever. The humans have merely refrained from asking about us. I think it would be for the better if they knew.”

Tari slightly bowed her head as the pair stopped.

“I must be off. I am due to call on King Celrin and further discuss this issue,” Seer Ringali said, adjusting the wide sleeves of his robes.

“I must admit, I’m surprised you have not left for Gloria yet,” Tari said.

Seer Ringali studied the sky for a moment. “I planned to leave earlier, but that pesky human crown prince has been enquiring with great eagerness when I will be departing. I would never do anything to please such a tiny fish, so I’ve resolved to stay longer,” Seer Ringali dropped his gaze to Tari. “When I spoke to him last week he seemed especially intent that I would take you with me when I left.”

“Arion is already aware of the suspicious actions of Crown Prince Benjimir,” Tari said.

Seer Ringali nodded in approval. “Excellent. It is best if you let your dog do some of the work. He is too well trained to be wasted. Good day to you, student, I shall see you tomorrow,” Seer Ringali said before taking his leave and sweeping back into the gardens.

Tari considered following Seer Ringali, but she didn’t feel like mincing with polite society just yet. The betrayal of another elf cut her deeply to the point of making her nauseous, a
nd her anger with Arion still boiled in the background.

The
park ended in a hill, which stood directly in front of the barracks, training grounds, and mess hall for the Haven Honor Guards. Tari took a moment to squint up at the sky. It was early afternoon—she had all evening to challenge the betrayer. Perhaps a visit to Grygg, Thad, and Wilford would brighten her spirits.

Tari trooped down the hill with the intent of finding the mess hall,
where she knew the three patrol leaders would be eating a late lunch.

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