Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3) (23 page)

"Ilija," Sal said, "Take the King to his rooms and place a full guard outside his door."

"Yes, Kaisae," Ilija said, moving to the King's side.  "Sire, there's no shame in leaning on your men."  The King patted the new Colonel's shoulder, holding his injured arm close to his body, as they left the room. 

Sal waited, watching as Lord Piet, Lord Aulis and Lord Arvo abandoned their chairs quickly, heading through the door on the heels of the King.  When their steps grew soft in her ears, she stood, glancing once at Cillian across from her.

He lifted a hand.  "Can I ask you a question?"

Sal nodded, sinking back into her seat.  "I don't promise to answer it, but you can ask."

"That's fair.  This has nothing to do with the military, nor anything else.  It's personal, Kaisae."  He looked down at his clasped hands.  "Are you planning to go back to the Conglomerate when this is over?"

"Yes," she answered.  "It's my home, Lord Tor.  I love Anglia, but I miss my family."

"Cillian, please," he insisted.  "So, why are you throwing yourself into this so hard, if you're just going to leave?"

With a sigh, she leaned back.  "That's a hard question to answer.  Part of it is just my nature.  I respect your king.  He's a good man, and I think this country has a lot to offer the continent.  Part of it is the grauori and iliri."

"Look, I believe you when you say that you're willing to die for the King, Sal, but I don't understand why.  I'm a
loyal
nobleman, and I can't say I'd be willing to do that."  Cillian sighed.  "Truth is I have to suspect you unless I can understand you, but you've given me no reason to do anything but trust you.  I figure it's worth asking."

"Yeah, that answer is a lot easier than you'd like, I'm afraid.  I'm a conscript."  She shrugged.

"And?" he prompted.

"Cillian, that's a fancy word for a slave.  I'll die in combat.  There's no way around that.  I can either die fighting for something I believe in, or for something that I couldn't care less about.  Which would you choose?"

"And there's no way for you to get your freedom?  Sal, why not just stay here?  You know Dominik would let you defect."

She shook her head.  "The Black Blades.  They're my family.  There's ten of us now – well, more if you count the mutts and family.  Nine iliri, a human, two grauori, with two pups on the way, and our stable master.  That's my family.  Only three of them own their own lives."  Sal huffed a wry laugh.  "And they will not leave the rest of us.  We're not human.  Not even our human is very human."

"What do you mean?"

"Zep."  Sal paused, thinking about him.  "He's my closest friend, you see, and he's always wanted to be iliri.  So much so that I think he's more like us than he knows.  He..." she stopped, realizing she'd almost said too much.  "We aren't human, and our lifestyle is either disgusting or addicting."

"Does the King know how different you think you are?"

"Yeah.  He knows how different we
are
.  He's seen it.  I appreciate your concerns, Cillian, but yes, Dom's seen enough to know."

"Are you sleeping with him?" he asked bluntly.

Sal laughed.  "No," she giggled.  "No.  No, that's not going to happen.  He's human."

"What do you mean?"

She pulled her hair over and tugged at her collar, exposing the bite Jase had left.  "This is an Iliran kiss."

Cillian's eyes grew wide.  "But, who, uh..." he stammered.

"That's from Jase.  We share a room for a reason.  If I was bedding the King, he either would be a bloody mess, or dead.  He's neither so you can be sure I'm not."

His head bobbed a few times.  "Well, that makes a few things easier for the Spring Celebration.  Although, I'm not so glad that I asked, now."

"I did warn you the first day that there would be rumors, and that's all they are.  Now, what's this Spring Celebration?"

"Right," Cillian said.  "The annual Royal Ball.  It's been a tradition for generations, celebrating the arrival of spring.  I asked about the King because Ria, my wife, is in charge of organizing it.  Someone told her that she had to seat you near the King as his mistress.  She was positive it was nothing more than rumor."

Sal flopped back in the chair.  "Let me guess.  A large affair and I'm going to have to wear something other than armor for this?"

"It's formal attire only.  You can't skip out and play a soldier on this one, not with the way the court is going.  Not with a declaration of war coming.  I'm sorry, Sal, but you have to play the courtier."

"When is it?"

"Next week."

"Maast.  Can you get me a referral for a tailor?  I'll make sure that Jase and I are properly attired for it.  And if it helps, since I won't be on duty, there will be few concerns about me being the King's mistress afterward.  I'm sure Jase won't complain."

Cillian chuckled loudly.  "That would actually be a big help.  I'll have Ria meet with you for the tailor.  She's wanted to anyway.  She respects you, Sal.  You're one of the few women in the country to have her own power.  You've become an icon to so many and Ria's very active in trying to get women more rights."

"You know I support that, right?"

"I figured you did.  It's ok, Sal, I do too.  I'm completely behind what she's doing.  You've brought us so far in such a short time in ways you probably can't even imagine."  Cillian looked up at her sadly.  "I really was hoping you'd stay."

Chapter 25

That week, she met with the tailor multiple times.  Spending time with Cillian's wife was not only fun but enlightening.  Ria introduced her to other women, all seeking to bring change to Anglia.  Sal was often treated as an icon of women's freedom among them, and she did her best to explain what a truly equal culture was like.  She also introduced them to Conglomerate fashion, but when Sal had laid out her own plans for a dress, the tailor had been shocked.  The other women were shortening their hems and tightening waistlines, but Sal had chosen a simple gown in silver and green, the colors of Anglia.  The dress was too simple, the tailor thought, but Sal knew better. 

Jase had his attire made to match, and after he saw the design for her gown, he'd talked Sal into allowing him to dye her skin in a temporary tattoo.  His words of love were drawn elegantly along her back in flowing Iliran, the ink in pale colors on her milky skin rather than the black he had on his own.  She wished the art would stay with her forever.

The night of the ball, Ria surprised her again, sending a stylist from her own household to assist the Kaisae in her preparations.  Sal and the girl disappeared into the grauori's empty rooms for most of the afternoon.  As the sun fell to the horizon, Jase was pacing in anticipation.  He stopped at the sound of her footsteps and turned to greet her.

"Ayati, cessivi," he breathed, staring at her in complete fascination.

The gown clung to her like sheets against a lover's body, her pale skin seeming to fade through the silver silk into a nearly black-green.  A long slit along her left leg left her free to move while the soft fabric pooled around her feet.  Green stones mixed with white trailed along her temple and a dark green jewel lay against her forehead in contrast with her alabaster color.  Her lips were bare, but her eyes were lined with kohl and shaded in a pale green, accenting the dress. 

His suit was tight across his chest and hips, the ripcords of his muscles obvious beneath the soft fabric.  Green pants were accented with delicate embroidery, and his black boots had been polished to a high shine.

"Can I even touch ya?" he asked.

Sal laughed.  "Yes, killer.  It's designed to hold up to combat.  You can easily touch me, and I made sure I wouldn't stain your lips when you do."

That was all the excuse he needed.  Jase caught her in his arms, his mouth gentle against hers.  As they kissed, his hand slid around her back to meet bare skin.  He pulled away with a smile and looked in her eyes.

"Maast, Sal.  I'm glad I'll be armed t'night.  Lemme see the back."

She spun gently in his arms, and Jase sighed in appreciation.  The gown came to her throat in front but hung open to her hips in back.  Tiny chains of green and pale stones dangled across the opening, holding it in place.  Jase's intricately painted tattoo was a tease to anyone who looked as it slid behind the cloth.

"I think it's a fair balance," she said,  "The lines of it are modest, even if the lay of it is not, and Ria will draw a lot less ire with her gown now."

Jase let his eyes caress her.  "So true, and there's na a thing they can truly complain 'bout.  But maast, kitten, yer gonna make me a very jealous man."

"Good, I like it when you're jealous, killer.  Now let's get to the throne room before the King, so we don't need to be announced."

"Na 'til yer armed, Sal."

She giggled.  "Three blades isn't enough?"

"Where?" he asked, looking at how the material seemed to show every line of her body beneath it.

"I have a knife in each boot and one of these jewels in my hair is a stiletto.  If I need more than that, there'll be enough guards around for me to grab something.  Besides, there's no reason to warn anyone that I could kill them tonight.  It's supposed to be a party."

"Fair 'nough.  But I gotta warn ya, I am na even gonna try ta keep my hands from ya."

"That's the point," Sal told him as she twined her arm in his. 

Together they slipped through the halls, early enough that the nobles were still getting ready.  When they entered the throne room, only a handful of people were there.  Most of them were servants lighting candles.  Sal led Jase to a quiet nook in the wall, in sight of both the King's door and his throne, then leaned against him.  He wrapped his arms around her and they spoke of nothing, gently kissing until the room filled around them. 

How's it look in there?
Roo asked.

Just starting to look like a real party now.  Dom coming in yet?

Yes, Kaisae, we're on our way now.

Jase turned his head to the door, and Sal knew he'd heard the conversation.  Not even a minute later, the door opened, and the grauori entered, pausing in unison to look at the Herald.

"All rise for the King!" the man called out.  The iliri rose to their feet along with everyone else.  When the King stepped in the room, the court knelt as one, Sal curtsying like the other noble ladies.

"Please rise, and let us celebrate tonight.  Spring is nearly here, and we shall make it welcome!" Dominik called out, and the people cheered. 

When they fell quiet again, the band began to play a soft tune.  Dominik looked at Hwa, who turned to her.  The King's eyes followed his, seeking her out.  When he spotted her among the crowd, he smiled.

"Tradition," the King said to the hushed room, "says that I shall be the first to dance – but we all know I don't have a queen to partner with.  So I'll take this chance to claim the most ineligible woman in the room.  Kaisae, would you dance with me?"

Sal squeezed Jase's hand, and walked toward the King, the crowd parting for her.  As she passed, a hushed murmur rose, courtiers whispering to each other, until she stood before the King.  He smiled at her, but his eyes kept drifting down.  "That's a dress, Sal," he whispered when she got close enough.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it is."

He offered his hand, and she took it gracefully, curtsying before him as her station demanded.  With a gentle lift, he encouraged her to rise and brought her to his arms as the band moved into a waltz.  Dominik rested his hand on her back, shifting slightly when his fingers brushed her bare skin.  The other he held before him, politely, just as he would with any married woman.  When he stepped into the music, Sal followed easily, and a smile played on the King's lips.  With their heads close, their conversation became private.

"I never knew you could dance," he said.

"It's a good skill for an assassin, sire.  And I have seven men who made sure I knew.  It seems I'm often a safe partner."

"Well, you're the only woman who won't think this is a prelude to a marriage offer.  I hope you don't mind."

"I don't," Sal said as he spun her away, her gown swirling away from her legs before twining around them again.  "Besides, if I'm dancing with you, there's less chance the others will be pawing at me."

Dominik laughed.  "I keep forgetting to see your side of it.  Oh, and I heard there's a new trend in Anglian fashions.  Are you responsible for that?"

"It's possible.  Are you bothered by it?" she asked, her ears intent on him.

"No.  I am actually excited.  It only helps me pass the legislation that will give women the right to own property and hold down jobs.  I listened, Sal.  Things
are
changing.  We're going to war, but we're also growing up as a country, and I think a lot of that we have to thank you for.  I wish you could stay with us."

"You know I can't."

"If you ever want that freedom you talked about, it's waiting for you here.  All of your Black Blades.  I mean it," he told her as the last strings of music played.

"Thank you, sire," she said loud enough to be heard by those around them.  Then she curtsied to him again, deeply, before rising and walking back to Jase.  Dominik had no idea how tempting his offer was. 

As she made her way through the crowd, a few young men pushed toward her.  Jase watched them with a smile, leaning with his arms crossed against one of the massive pillars.  The first one reached her and just grabbed her hand, tugging her to the dance floor without even an invitation.  Sal flinched away from the contact and jerked to a stop.  Jase pushed in her direction.

"Dance with me," the young man said, unaware of the way he'd just insulted her.

"Touching an iliri without an invitation is a good way to get dead.  Now get lost, kid," a deep voice said behind her.  Sal looked up to find Ilija glaring at the young man. 

"Colonel," she greeted him, noticing his fresh uniform, crisp and perfect across his massive chest.

He bowed his head to her but made no move to touch her without her permission.  "Kaisae, I'd be honored if you'd dance with me.  That is if you aren't spoken for," he added with a flick of his eyes toward Jase.

Sal turned and saw her mate smile before fading back toward the wall.  "I'd be honored, Ilija, and thank you."  She offered her hand.

Ilija bowed over her fingers and kissed them respectfully, then escorted her the handful of steps to the dance floor.  Like the King, he held her politely, even though her head was barely even with his chest.  She glided along with him, aware that he was not as skilled of a dancer as the King, but a more enthusiastic one.

"I asked the Verdant Shields to dance with you tonight.  I don't think you've met all of my men, but each one will have a shield pin on his collar.  Jase and Hwa trained them well," he told her.

"Thanks, Ilija, I actually appreciate that more than you know.  So you decided on a name?" she asked.

"I admit, I was stumped, so I decided to play on your Black Blades.  Since Anglia's colors are green and silver, I went with verdant because it means green, and the counter to a Blade has always been a shield.  I hope we can live up to the expectations."

"Me too, Colonel.  I assume they're on duty tonight?"

"Unofficially, but yeah.  We didn't want to crowd the hall with guards, so I have them scattered around the room.  With you and the Blades, I think Dominik is safe enough, and with the eight of us, plus the King and Jase, your dance card will be booked."  He spun her dramatically, laughing, as the music ended. 

Jase appeared beside him ready to take his place.  "My turn," he said softly, moving away from the edge of the crowd.  When the music began again, he stepped close and pressed his hand low on her back.  His fingers traced sensual lines against her skin.  Sal twined her arms around his neck and looked up into his twilight eyes.  Moving lightly, they twirled and stepped, their faces mere inches from each other. 

"You are amazing," he whispered to her in Iliran, the words flowing easily across his tongue.  "I love you so much, Sal, and I'm honestly glad we came here."

She smiled at him, holding his eyes.  "Me too, Jase."  She used the same language.  "I like it here.  I like these people, and I can't tell you how glad I am to have this time with you."

"I'm never going to leave your side, you know that?  I don't think I could live without you.  Sal, I don't think I was living without you before.  I know you'll go back to Blaec, but I'll always be here for you.  If there are others, I swear I don't care, just don't ignore me.  You're more than I ever dreamed of."  The words sounded so much sweeter in his native tongue.

"I love you, Jase," she whispered to him, the words in Glish.  "I don't know how to say it in Iliran, but I mean it.  I will never leave you, killer.  You're the only person I know I can trust completely."

His arms tightened and without letting her go, he kissed her deeply.  A few people around them gasped, others giggled, but Sal heard none of it.  For Jase to make such a scene was more of a testament to his love than any words he could say in any language.  When she paused to breathe, he looked into her eyes, a shy smile slowly lifting his lips.  But before he could speak, a hand tapped against her arm, begging for her attention.

"Kaisae," the page, Jarl, said beside her.  "Kaisae Sal!"

They both sighed, and Sal looked at the kid.  "What?"

"There's a man in the stables.  He just rode in hard.  Said he needs to talk to the leader of the army.  That's you, right Kaisae?  He said it's Terric, and it can't wait."

She glanced back to Jase, and he released her.  "I'll tell Ilija.  Lemme know if we need ta interrupt the King, kitten.  Go," he said, kissing her before putting action to his own words and pushing through the crowd.