The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (30 page)

   Dominic turned to her, standing all alone across the enormous room, her soft brown eyes looking almost frightened. Of him?

   "What is it?" he demanded.

   "You looked so much like Mor'ded for a moment. When you spoke with the other elven lords, I could not see a difference between them and you."

   He crossed the distance between them in a trice. She did not start, having grown used to the superior quickness of movement with which his elven blood had gifted him, but she trembled when he reached for her, shying away from the scepter in his hand.

   Dominic frowned at the black thing. "I suppose I will have to do something about this. I can make a sheath for it, like my sword, so it cannot accidentally touch you. Although I do not think it will harm you unless you try to wield it. How did you know?"

   She blinked. "Know what?"

   "That I would be able to use it."

   "I… I wasn't sure. But you said you had formed a connection, and Ador said it was the key, so I hoped that you had enough elven blood to wield it."

   "I have always admired your intelligence." He grinned, but she didn't return it. Dominic tossed the scepter across the room to land unerringly on Mor'ded's bed. His bed.

   He held out his arms to her again. Yet she still trembled.

   "You have never been afraid of me, Cassandra."

   "But I've learned to fear your father."

   "And I am not he. I never will be, as long as I have your love. Would you withhold it now, when I need it the most?"

   Tears formed in her eyes. "No. No, of course not, Dominic. Nothing can stop me from loving you."

   And she flung herself into his arms, and he held her tightly, feeling his heart melt with the tears that soaked the front of his shirt. "Don't fret, love; somehow we will make this work without losing ourselves in the process. But there is much to be done, and I will need your strength to help me. Can you do that?"

   She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Of course I can. It's just that I almost lost you and then gained you back, all in a few moments, and then worried about what you might become with that scepter in your hand… Fie! Enough of this nonsense. What needs to be done, my lord?"

   "I'm not—well, I suppose I am now. I shall have to get used to being called a lord, although I shan't like it. This is going to be harder than we can both imagine, my dear. So first I need you to kiss me."

   Her eyes widened but she lifted to her toes, and he bent his head. For a moment her lips seemed hesitant beneath his, but he pulled her closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers twining in his hair as she was wont to do, and her mouth melted beneath his. Dominic pulled as much sustenance from that kiss as he possibly could before he let her go.

   He strode over to the bed, retrieved the scepter, and proceeded to burn the swan-shaped surround, the coverlet quickly catching fire, flames dancing merrily across the surface. He did the same for the rest of the remaining furniture excepting the desk, which might contain information he could use, and the crystal. His father had hidden many secrets from him and it might take him years to discover them all.

   "I will not have it said that the champion did not put up a good fight," he murmured. "Now then, my love. You can have the servants clear the room of ashes and redecorate to your heart's content. I may have to sleep here, but I want as little of him left in this room as possible."

   "What shall I do with the ashes?" she asked, eyeing the pile that comprised Mor'ded's.

   "Have the servants take them all to the refuse pile… no, better yet, I shall spread them myself in the false Elfhame. It will be fitting that Father joins his victims."

   His wife nodded. Damn, he supposed he would have to think of her as his mistress now. He could not afford any slips of the tongue. What a tangled web they would have to weave.

   "I must see to my men. In this ridiculous garb. I must convince them that their general is dead and that I will be taking over the supervision of the army myself."

   "You can tell them that you no longer trust another to do it. That
Dominic
betrayed you."

   "Indeed. I'm now grateful I kept myself aloof from the men. They should not suspect… but the rest of the court… and the people…"

   "Shh, love. One thing at a time."

   He picked up her hand and brushed his lips across it. "It will be a miracle if we manage the charade for a day."

   "You hold the scepter."

   "Better yet, I hold your heart. I will manage it, Cassandra."

   "
We will manage it. With God's help. By the tim
e you return to your room this evening, you will no longer recognize this place."

   Thinking of the changes she'd made to his old—to Dominic's old apartments—he could well imagine it. He reached out and cupped her cheek, his hand suddenly seeming large against her tiny face. "Do not overtire yourself, Lady Cassandra. You have a ball to attend tonight."

   She leaned into his hand and sighed. "Fiddle. I don't recall a ball scheduled for this eve."

   He kissed her farewell then spun on his heel. "I'm giving one."

   "You?" she said to his retreating back.

   "In your honor." He opened the door to the hall and turned to give her a deep bow. "Word will spread through the palace that I have destroyed my son for challenging me and have taken his wife as revenge for his impudence. But I must formally introduce you as my new mistress—my father enjoyed flaunting his victories. And then we shall see if I can fool the court as well as my men."

Eighteen

Cassandra stepped into the champion's apartments, wondering how on earth she would explain everything to Gwendolyn and May. She wanted to tell them the truth but couldn't be sure if they could manage the deception. No, she would take Dominic's lead and pretend by all outward appearances that he was his father.

   "Oh, my lady," breathed Gwen, launching herself at Cass's skirts. "Ye see, May? Yer coat
did
work. She's alive."

   The older girl blinked away her tears. "My magic isn't strong enough to withstand an elven lord."

   "Maybe not," replied Cass, thinking of that tenuous moment when a wisp of a dream had given her the added strength she'd needed. "But it gave me enough of a distraction to do what needed to be done, May. I thank you for the gift."

   The girl smiled, but Gwen let go of her skirts and stared up at her with a frown. "What needed to be done?"

   Cass took a deep breath. "The champion betrayed the Imperial Lord. For his treason, Mor'ded… destroyed him."

   "The champion?" Gwen's voice cracked and Cass could tell she fought a sob. Dominic would be gratified to know that their servants had become fond of him. Or rather, he would have been gratified if he could have continued to exist beyond this day. She must try to keep her thoughts consistent with their new reality, or she would likely stumble.

   "We cannot refer to him ever again, my dears. Do you understand? But for May's coat, I would not have survived Mor'ded's wrath myself. My life is precarious at the moment, in more ways than you can ever know. I am only lucky that the Imperial Lord desires me in his bed."

   "His bed?"

   "Yes. He seems… intrigued by the idea that I can produce another champion for him. And so he will try himself."

   "That's awful," breathed May.

   "But the champion already got ye pregnant," said Gwen.

   "It's untrue. And Mor'ded does not like to be deceived."

   For the first time, Gwendolyn gave her mistress a look that lacked the usual gleam of adoration. "Why would ye lie about it? Why would the Imperial Lord flame the champion for that?"

   "There is more involved, Gwen. Dominic challenged his father for possession of the scepter."

   Both girls gasped.

   "And he lost. A reminder to us all that we cannot challenge the rule of the elven lords." Lady Cassandra drew herself up to her not-so-considerable full height and slapped her hands together. "Come now. I need your help. Mor'ded's rooms were left in a shambles after the… encounter, and I've been given strict instructions to clean up the mess and move in my things."

   "Just like that, my lady?" whispered Gwen.

   "We are to live in the Imperial Lord's apartment?" squeaked May.

   "No, of course not." Cass ignored Gwen's whisper. "There is a small chamber adjacent to his rooms where you can sleep."

   Gwen grimaced. "And ye will sleep with him?"

   "And we will all make the best of it." Cassandra clutched her throat as her voice broke. It had been a long day already. "We are women and must be strong, no matter what the circumstances. I was given to the champion without a say in the matter. How is this any different?"

   The girls both nodded and followed her down the hall, hesitating in the doorway, hazel eyes riveted to the floor of ash and blackened remains of the furniture. Several other servants were already at work cleaning up the mess, and Lady Cassandra directed them to box up the ash and give it to her. She took the box into the passageway to the door to the false Elfhame and left it there for Dominic to take within.

   It took only a few hours to clear the rest of the room and scrub it clean. Cass draped a silk cloth over the crystal near the door and another over the desk across the room. She left the empty pots that had once held the pink pods, hoping to fill them with flowers from the elven garden—those that did not sing, leastways. Then she oversaw the transfer of the furniture from her old apartments to these new, larger ones. She allowed only Meg and Gwen to carry her more delicate pieces, the glassware and vases and display cases. She instructed the girls to give Dominic's old clothing to the servants, to be given to the poor.

   The other servants spoke barely a word while they worked, in awe of being in the elven lord's apartments. They avoided looking at the iridescent walls, which made Cass so queasy herself that she decided to cover as much of them as she could with tapestries. When most of the heavy work was done, the servants nodded eagerly when she dismissed them, near running out the door.

   Lady Cassandra glanced around the room in satisfaction. It looked nothing like the bare apartment Mor'ded had occupied, and her moving in as his mistress would satisfy anyone's curiosity about the changes.

   Good heavens, she could no longer think of herself as Dominic's wife. She would become the Imperial Lord's lover.

   She sighed and allowed a very silent Gwendolyn to assist in choosing her clothing for the ball. God knew the truth of her love for Dominic, and that would have to suffice.

   He returned while May put the finishing touches on her coiffure, looking entirely too much like his father, his face frozen in a disdainful mask. But he glanced around the room and his shoulders relaxed, and he strode to her dressing table and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Well done, love."

   May dropped her brush and Gwendolyn let out a soft gasp.

   Cassandra winced and pretended to pull away from Dominic, but it proved difficult. She ignored the girls' reactions. "How did it fare with the men?"

   He nodded, silver hair falling about his cheeks, exposing the tips of his pointed ears. "They will not miss their general. And their fear of his fate will keep them in line until I can appoint another to oversee them."

   They had believed him, then. They had not recognized their own commander.

   "But I thought you wished to command them yourself."

   "Ah, too boring, my dear. Let's hope you breed me another champion who can do the task better than my current choices." He strode to the door of the room that held his clothing and washstand. "Now make haste with your toilette. We have a trial to oversee before the ball."

   "A trial?"

   He spun, his eyes narrowed, his beautiful mouth grim. "There are several children awaiting their trials, and it was scheduled for this eve. You wouldn't want to deny them the right to go to Elfhame as quickly as possible, would you?"

   Cass allowed her sorrow to reflect in her eyes and for a moment, saw it mirrored back at her within his own. Then he glanced at May and disappeared into his dressing room.

   She had a sudden impulse to dismiss her two servants so Dominic wouldn't have to veil his words to her. So they wouldn't have to continue the charade in their private apartments. But she knew it would be best that they got used to their roles and maintained them at all times.

   Just like Dominic had done for most of his life, pretending to have no heart.

   Lady Cassandra stood and gazed at herself in the mirror. Gwen had chosen a silver satin mantua studded with tiny gemstones that sparkled with her every movement, the train flowing several feet behind her. Gemstones studded a narrow girdle and the toes of her shoes. May had woven even more gemstones in her hair, so skillfully that each gem could not be seen; instead her hair just appeared to glow from the candles' reflection.

   May had retrieved the invisible mantle from where it had apparently been set down during her change of clothing, for she draped air about Cass then gave her shoulders a final pat.

   Cass had stubbornly refused the powder in her hair and a patch on her face.

   Dominic emerged from his dressing room. "Shall we go?"

   Her pulse fluttered and she turned. He stood in a coat of silver satin, studded with buttons of gemstone, ruffles at his wrists and throat. His waistcoat and breeches matched, his shoes glittering with diamond buckles. The scepter lay at his side in place of his usual sword, in a sheath of soft leather bleached as pale as his outfit.

   His skin looked a golden cream in contrast, his eyes deeper than midnight.

   His lip quirked, and Cass could breathe again.

   "It seems we are of the same mind this evening. You look ravishing, my love." And he strode across the room, gathered her in his arms, crushing her against him with a kiss that left her breathless.

   When they parted Cass turned to Gwen and May to bid them good eve, when she noticed the look they exchanged.

   They knew. They knew that Dominic stood at her side and not Mor'ded. Would others see through their lie as easily?

   The girls had been sullen most of the day, nearterrorized when Dominic had entered the room. Now they both smiled, their hazel eyes winking as if they'd been studded with gemstones like Cass's hair.

   "Good night, my lady," they said in unison, bobbing brief curtsies.

   Cass looked deeply into their eyes. They knew, but they would not reveal the truth. When Gwendolyn winked at her, she gave the girl a tremulous smile. May quickly jabbed her elbow into the younger girl's side, frowning and shaking her head. No, they would not reveal the truth. But May stepped forward, pinching her fingers over Cassandra's shoulders, dragging the invisible cloak down her back. "I do not think you will need this any longer, my lady."

   Because she lived her dreams with her true love at her side.

   Cass nodded and allowed her husband—no, her lover—to escort her from the room into the private passage. She noticed with relief that the box of ashes next to the stout oak door had been removed, but Dominic said nary a word of it, his face a mask of pure arrogant elf.

   "Sometimes," he whispered as they walked through the silent, gloomy passage, "the children are hurt during the trials."

   Cass squeezed his hand. She didn't remember any pain from her own trial but did not doubt that Mor'ded might often "play" with children from the lower classes. "You don't have it in your nature to hurt a child, Dom—"

   He stopped and placed a finger gently over her lips. "Do not call me that, even in private."

   She nodded and for a brief moment he replaced his finger with his lips, the warmth and tenderness of his kiss an affirmation of her faith in him. He laid his cheek atop her head.

   "Father used the scepter to challenge the children with magic. Any of their own latent magic would rise in defense of the attack. If they lacked the higher powers…"

   "I understand. Is there some way you can just pretend to test them? After all, we have no intention of sending any of the children to the false Elfhame."

   "I thought of that," he replied, his jaw moving in her hair. "It would be too dangerous. A truly powerful child can cause a lot of damage until their magic is under control, and if they are discovered by the other elven lords—no, we must test them and keep them hidden until they can be of use." He stepped away from her and held her by the shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "I want you to find a moment to speak with Walpole this eve."

   "Of course. But Dom—my love, we will have to expose our secret. Are you sure you want to take the risk?"

   "I see no other way. Not if we are to help the children."

   "You appear to have thought of a plan for the chosen already."

   He let loose a sigh. "I do not know how long we will be able to keep up this charade, if we shall even make it through the night. But as long as we are able to, we can save the children born with enough elven blood to wield a scepter."

   "But chosen ones are rare. There are only two of you in England right now and even that is unusual. And the other sovereignties will continue to cull them… It was sheer chance one of Breden's bastards had hidden in Firehame. It may take decades to save a child with the same power to match the other scepters."

   His big hands squeezed her shoulders. "That's why I want you to tell Walpole to spread the word among the Rebellion. That the children are going to their doom, and they must avoid the trials and find refuge in Firehame."

   "They have already been trying to save children from going to Elfhame… but now that they know the full truth, perhaps they will be more successful. Still, I don't think the common people will believe it. They won't
want to
believe it. For some it is the only happiness they can offer their children. Besides, even if a chosen one can wield the scepter, the odds of them looking enough like the Imperial Lord to take his place are unlikely."

   "I doubt we will replace another impostor over a sovereignty," he calmly replied. "But their powers are weakened without the scepters. The disruption to the barrier when I took the scepter from Mor'ded is proof of that. Even if a half-breed can't wield the scepter, they can steal it. Perhaps if we managed to take every elven lord's scepter…"

   "It is more hope than we've ever had before. I think you should speak with Sir Robert about your plan."

   "I intend to. On the morrow. First we must see if we can even manage this charade for the night." He picked up her arm again and headed for the door that led to the throne. "After I find a way to protect the children from my—Mor'ded's trial."

   Cass realized he'd almost said "myself." She realized at that moment how truly strong she would have to be. She must keep him from losing himself in the part he must play. "I have faith in you," she said as he opened the door. "As does God."

   He threw her a disgruntled look, but she only smiled at him as he led her out onto the dais. Cass blinked a moment, adjusting her eyes to the light, and then she saw most of the court clustered about the room.

   She watched their faces as Dominic took the throne and she stationed herself next to it, one hand lying atop the back of the smooth marble. She didn't know how many people usually managed to witness a trial, but it seemed to her that an extraordinary number had shown up. The nobles had dressed in their finest in anticipation of the ball that would follow. An eerie silence settled over the hall as they watched Dominic nod at the first child standing in line to be presented.