Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (19 page)

“Your friend is on his way,” he says tersely. “Please take a seat.”

I deliberate my choices and walk around to take Blaine’s chair.

There are a few gasps from the council.

“I meant the chair in the middle,” Jovan says drily. I raise my hands in innocence, but don’t move, instead kicking my feet on top of the table.

“My King,” Blaine starts. Jovan silences him and the greasy man selects a seat directly beside me while I grin at his humiliation and bat my eyelashes his way. Actually, this is a good opportunity.

“Ain’t I seen you at the pit fights before?” I ask Blaine. My word as Frost means nothing in here—not against an advisor.

“You are mistaken,” Blaine sneers.

“Naw, I don’t think so.” I say. “But I can see why you wouldn’t want anyone to know.” I give an exaggerated tilt of the head to the rest of the room. I glance at Jovan and he looks away, jaw ticking. Blaine remains silent. I’m pleased to see his lips are white with fury.

I glance up as Blizzard is shoved into the room. The door slams shut behind him. He scowls around the room, sunk down in a defensive position.

“Blizzard,” I call. He whips his head around.

“Uh, Frost?” he stammers. I smile and move to fake greet my friend.

“I’ve missed you,” I say. He pulls me in for a hug and I whisper hurriedly, keeping my voice low. “Crystal is in my place. Don’t look at her. And I’m sorry, I meant to ask you first.” His eyebrows pinch at my words. He’ll understand them momentarily.

“Blizzard,” Jovan greets, voice hard. I glance at him and see he’s glaring at where my hand rests on Blizzard’s shoulder.

The pit fighter nods at Jovan as I drag the new Outer Ring’s representative to my empty seat. I place him there and lean against Blaine’s neighboring seat. He shuffles away to the other side and I don’t bother hiding my grin.

Jovan turns to me. “Frost, you’ve been chosen by the Outer Rings to bring their concerns and requests to me formally, and without violence,” he states.

“I have some stuff you may find interesting, but he’s the real one you wanna talk to about the bad things,” I jerk my thumb at Blizzard and he stiffens.

I continue. “This one’s right in the thick of it. Handing out food, all nice like. Helping out the orphans and the beat-up whores. He’s the one stopping the thugs from slitting old women’s gullets.” Jovan’s eye twitches before he musters the control to turn to my friend. Blizzard stares at me in shock. I watch as his eyes narrow in accusation. I shrug my apology at him for now. I’m going to owe him big. The silence grows painful as the advisors and Jovan wait for him to speak.

“Just ask him a question,” I say. “You’ll see.”

Jovan gives me a loaded look before facing Blizzard once more. “In your opinion, what are the main problems faced by my subjects in the Outer Rings?” Jovan asks.

Blizzard’s eyes show steel. “There are many, my King. Where do ya want me to start?”

I wait for the fighter to explode. He just needs the right provocation. Jovan’s eyes flash at his response. I catch myself leaning forward and tip my head back and close my eyes in bored Frost fashion.

“I do not think there can be that many,” Jovan growls.

I grin and open one eye to watch as Blizzard’s face turn white with rage. It then turns red, and lastly, it turns purple.

Then, he loses it.

* * *

Blizzard stabs the roast potato on his plate with too much force, bending the knife backwards as we all sit and gawk. I sneak a glance at Crystal sitting up at the throne table. Is that what I usually look like? Small and mysterious. I’d be afraid to approach someone looking like that too.

I hope Jovan and Olandon are looking after her. Probably just Jovan, judging by the scowl on my brother’s face. He’s not very happy with what I’m wearing. He’d nearly given me away when he first caught sight of the harness. The delegates present here tonight haven’t stopped laughing at him, entertained by my subterfuge and Olandon’s clear disapproval.

“Where’s Zona?” I ask.

Shard gives me a pointed look. “Oh,” I say, looking in Blaine’s direction.

A hard vegetable flies off Blizzard’s plate and disappears under a neighboring table. The occupants glare his way until he turns the full force of his scowl on them.

They find things to do.

“Blizzard,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. It’s been on my mind for a while after watching you with the sick and poor in the Outer Rings. But it should’ve been your decision.”

He’d been appointed the Minister of the People, a previously unheard of position. Jovan’s move was clever, bordering on genius, but I felt for my friend. The king hadn’t exactly given him a choice about it. I dip my head. “I apologize most sincerely.”

He looks up at me with angry eyes. “Damn right I should’ve been given a choice. I haven’t got the juice for this crap. Shit! It’s going to end in blood and guts.” I sit up at his words. I make my way around the table and hug him, locking my hands around his neck to stare into his eyes.

“You will make a great minister.” I let him see the truth in my eyes before I continue. “Who’s more qualified than someone who has lived in the Rings? Instead of using the clothes off your own back, you’ll give those made by the king’s servants, or collected from the other rings. It’s what you’ve been doing for years, but on a larger scale.” I kiss him on the cheek, and smile when he flushes. It’s a sweet side to him I don’t often get to see.

“Instead of changing one life per week, you can change ten a day,” I finish quietly.

Shard leans forward. “She’s right, Blizzard. I couldn’t name anyone better for this position. You know our Frost is a smart one. She wouldn’t have picked you if she though you were two blocks short of a house.” Avalanche and Ice snigger either side of me. A woman gives Avalanche an alarmed glance as his scars stretch with the movement.

Blizzard starts a lecture about the quality of housing in the Outer Rings, and Shard turns to me with a desperate look. I shake my head and turn to Ice, Shard walked into his own trap. There’s no way I’m getting drawn in to Blizzard’s sermon.

“Did you follow him?” I ask quietly, talking of Sole. Ice nods, eyes gleaming.

“You won’t be surprised,” he says. “It’s our friend from the Arena, just like you thought.” I stop breathing for a second or two. Having strong suspicions of Blaine’s involvement and having absolute proof are different things. Now is the time to strike. Right now, as soon as possible. The Outer Rings were cooled today. Jovan has more control than he’s had in a while. The momentum needs to be used before the traitorous piece of filth sitting four from Jovan’s right can reassemble his forces.

I turn to Shard, deciding to save him after all. “Can you give Alzona a message? I have something for her to do. It needs to be done immediately. Things here are heating up.” I stare at Shard as a hint of amusement crosses his face.

He waves me on. “Sorry, just ironic. You talking about things heating up.” The others snigger away at his words.

“Funny.” I glare at the fighters. “You and Avalanche may want to go with her for protection.” I lean forward, though I’m certain no one can overhear us, and whisper my message in his ear.

My gaze draws back over the assembly, stopping on Sole, seated next to Tomir—yet another delegate. I settle on Macy for a long moment; she cowers in her seat, flinching whenever someone nearby moves suddenly. It tightens my determination.

Blaine is going down.

“Never again!” Crystal wails, shaking in my arms. “That was terrifying. I didn’t want to talk! You have such a,” she makes a motion with her hand, “voice, you know?”

I chuckle as I let her go and take the veil from her hand. “No, I don’t know.”

Her face warms. “You know, like people should listen to you.”

“I’m bossy?” I ask, a frown on my face. Her face warms further and I grin. “Just joking.”

She punches me in the shoulder, then grips her hand painfully. I add “teaching Crystal to punch” to my overwhelming to-do list.

I catch an armful of fur from Olandon. “You must be freezing, sister. Put some clothes on.” I drop the pile on the floor and pick through it.

“Landon, there’s two of everything in here,” I say.

He throws a menacing glare at the strappy leather I’m wearing. “You can never have too much on,” he mutters darkly. Crystal giggles behind me.

“I think I’ll get going,” Crystal says, a happy smile still gracing her delicate features, but she looks exhausted. She’d ended up acting as Tatuma for most of the day. Fear is draining. She slips out the door as I select a few out of the dozen garments at my feet.

“You were in that thing while outside of the castle,” Olandon says. I nod distractedly.

“Mainly just in the actual pits. Helped with the crowds and distracted the men I was fighting.”

I hear a sniff and look up. “If something is bothering you, I’d rather you just spit it out,” I say.

He jerks his head up, completely appalled.

I sigh, reining in my own response. “As in, I’d rather you just come out and tell me what the matter is.”

A little bit of disgust stays on his face. “This world is rubbing off on you too much,” he says after a short pause.

“I’m taking the damn harness off,” I complain.

“It’s more than that,” he says. “The lightness in you, the humor and openness with those who are your inferiors in position. You laugh more. And often I don’t understand what the joke is. Occasionally, I’m left wondering whether the sister I grew up with is still there.”

It takes everything I have not to let my jaw drop. It’s harder to keep the hurt from my features.

“Landon,” I say with difficulty. “It worries me you feel we have grown apart. I’ve changed a great deal since our time on Osolis, but you have too.” I walk over and take his hand. “But we know each other where it counts.” I lay my hand over his heart. “You know I will always be there for you. I’ll always fight for you, and I will always be honest with you.”

I take a deep breath. “And that includes telling you that all the changes you mentioned are good changes. What you’re observing is my happiness.” My heart breaks at the sadness I see on his face.

He turns sorrowful brown eyes toward me. “But why does
Glacium
make you feel that way?”

I shrug. “It’s just the absence of mother. The people here haven’t been poisoned by her and Cassius. I have friends here. People who genuinely like me.”

He dips his head. “It has taken me a long time to warm to the Bruma here. One thing eventually broke through.” I raise my brows at him to go on.

“The way your friends treated you when you showed them your face,” he says softly. “You never would have received that reaction on Osolis. You never
will
. Where the Bruma lack civility, they have heart.” He touches my cheeks and I start. Trails of tears track down my cheeks. I’m so proud of my brother. I don’t care if Landon objects; I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze tightly.

“That … bitch, Jacky, made me realize I’d been acting quite harshly, too,” he says gruffly. I laugh up into his face.

“You just swore!” I whack him on the shoulder. He finally returns my hug, a wide grin on his face. I smile into his chest.

“I’ll always protect you,” I say.

“My life for yours,” he says, letting me go. “You were halfway through dressing,” he reminds me.

I salute him as he heads to the door.

I retreat behind the screen and strip out of the harness. Jovan called the guards away while I crept up here. The king had declared Frost a useless representative of the people and declared Blizzard sole minister. There’s no way I would’ve been able to keep up the Frost appearances. And Crystal would die of stress if I asked her to pretend to be me again. Of course, Frost didn’t leave without giving Jovan a piece of her mind. I grin as I remember my exact words.

“If I put half as much effort into the Outer Rings that I put into growing so large, Glacium would be a better place.”

It takes me half a second to realize the words I’m thinking have been said aloud. I scream and whirl, searching for the voice. I scream again when I see a large shadow on the other side of the screen.

“Jovan!” I cover my chest. I wouldn’t put it past him to peer over the top. He was Bruma, after all.

“I believe those were your very words,” he says.

I leave the trousers half done up and tug my tunic on. I round the screen and aim a punch at his ribs. He grabs my hand and pulls me tight against his body, ignoring my glare to run one large hand through my hair. He takes a gentle handful of it and brings it to his nose. I wiggle in place, but stop dead-still as I feel something against my stomach. He lets me jerk away, amusement flitting across his features.

“We got lucky today,” he says. He’s decided not to tease me. I jump on the topic as though it’s my lifeline while he moves to sit down at the end of the bed.

“The crowd could have gone either way,” I say truthfully. I lower myself onto the long seat beside him.

He plays with the hilt of his sword. “And you still went out?” he asks.

I raise one shoulder and watch as he takes several breaths. He runs his hand through his light brown hair. I itch to do it myself.

“I’ve failed you,” he mumbles and I stop in my tracks.

“What?” I say dumbly.

“I should have come up with something to keep you from feeling you had to put yourself in danger.” He shakes his head angrily, and I give into temptation, reaching up to brush a few light brown tendrils from his face. He gives me a curious look.

My face warms and I pull back. “I knew you wouldn’t ask. I thought the idea had occurred to you. I saw you glance my way a few times. And the danger from the people for myself was minimal; it was more a matter of how many of Blaine’s … uh, how many instigators where out there,” I stutter. He tenses at the mention of Blaine, but doesn’t pursue my slip. The issue is still raw from last night. Obviously neither of us wishes to revisit it. It doesn’t mean my resolution to bring Blaine down is gone. But Jovan has made it clear he won’t be a part of it. And right now? I just want to feel some normalcy between us.

Jovan nods. “I keep running the situation over in my mind. There’s no other way it could have ended so well.” He turns and gives me a whisper of a kiss on my lips. As always, all thought goes out of my head. I lean into him, trying to deepen the kiss, but he leans away and peruses me with serious eyes, noses nearly touching. “Thank you,” he says.

I clear my throat. “Things seem to go better when we work together.” It just slips out. I wince at the admission.

“They do,” he says softly. He leans in and kisses me again. Deeper this time. I relish the feeling of how my lips meld with the warmth of his. Who knows how many more times I’ll feel his mouth on mine? A breathless moan escapes me and I jerk at the sound. But Jovan doesn’t seem to mind it one bit. He reaches over and grabs my hips, sliding me onto his lap, unbuckling his sword belt with one hand and throwing it to the floor when it gets in the way. I stare at him, my mind in turmoil. This shouldn’t be happening, but I want it to. I even orchestrated it: stroking his hair, encouraging his kiss.

“Lina,” he whispers, gripping my chin. “Stop.”

He closes the distance between us, a groan escaping him just before we touch. I focus on the kiss, wondering if he’s enjoying himself. I want him to enjoy this. His hips start moving beneath mine. I push myself closer, winding my hands around his neck. He likes it—he groans again. He nibbles my top lip. The slight pain startles me; simultaneously, fire rushes through me.

He smiles against my lips and I smile back, happy beyond words to be in his arms. He runs a hand underneath my tunic.

“I need to,” he talks into my mouth.

“Need to what?” I sigh. He grips my lower back with one hand and takes ahold of one of my breasts. I arch into his hand, feeling an even deeper pleasure than his kiss. We rock against each other. I’m out of control, my embarrassment vanished.

He leans his head into the crook of my neck and stills my hips with firm hands.

“No,” he mutters.

I try to push forward, but he holds me in place with an iron grip.

“Stop, Lina. This isn’t how it’s meant to happen.”

I frown at his words, cheeks heating, but stay in place on top of him. I try to interpret his pained expression. “I didn’t come here tonight to take you to bed,” he says.

My face falls. Did I force that on him again? I drop my gaze and try to climb off his lap. The iron grip doesn’t abate. “No. Let me explain,” he demands, then softens his tone. “Fuck.” He closes his eyes briefly.

I stop struggling to get off him and stare as he continues, flustered.

“It’s all new to you, and last time we jumped into it before you were ready.” He stops talking and fixes his penetrating eyes on me. I stare back, trying to decide if I’m more interested or more worried about how serious he sounds.

I decide I’m worried. “Jovan, this thing—,” I start.

His eyes darken and silences me with a hurried kiss. “I don’t want you to over-think this. Ignore what I said last night about uniting the worlds; ignore everything. It’s just … usually when a man is interested in a woman, he courts her. We missed that and I want you to have it,” he blurts. He lifts me up and deposits me on the bench next to him, quickly standing.

“I—” I feel like my eyes couldn’t get any bigger. How did his visit turn into this? And does he mean he’s going to court me? Or is it that he’s saying someone else will do it?

He frowns suddenly. “Sometimes I think I might…” He might what? He shakes his head, eyes flicking down to my lips again. I peer up at him and I see he was definitely affected by what we were doing mere minutes ago. Jovan never acts this way.

I tilt my head back fully to meet his gaze. His hands twitch at his sides, but the moment I think he’s about to lose control and grab me, he turns away in a rapid whirl.

The door smashes against the wall as he stalks out.

I blink at the open door, listening as he yells at some poor watchman down the hall.

I leap onto the bed and hug a fur to my chest, a wide grin on my face. I have no idea why the exchange with Jovan has left me so unreasonably happy. I wiggle into a comfortable position and close my eyes. I haven’t done this since Osolis, but as used to be my practice, I sit, memorizing exactly what happened. When I’m Tatum, I want to be able to remember his every word in detail.

* * *

I skip the council meeting the next day, sending Wrath, who still doesn’t know my true identify, with my apologies.

I sit with the delegates for my meal, hoping to get a moment with Sanjay. Fiona doesn’t appear to be very cheerful. She doesn’t know about Sanjay’s predicament, but she feels the change in her husband. She keeps huddling around her growing belly, darting looks at Sanjay. Fiona will be creating her own theories as to why her husband is avoiding her. No doubt, she believes he’s having an affair. I hope he can soon reassure her this isn’t the case. I worry for the previously happy couple. They work so well together; Fiona tempers Sanjay’s runaway mouth. I’d hate for them to fall apart because of this. Whatever happened, Sanjay wasn’t in control of himself.

Olandon excuses himself quickly, barely touching his food. He’s oddly eager to get to the archives. He’s remained close-lipped on any progress he’s made. I don’t know what to make of it. I simultaneously want to know who my father is, or was, and am filled with nerves at the thought of finding out. Most of the time I wonder if I’m better off not knowing.

Shard, Crystal, Alzona, and Avalanche, who left to talk to the real Willow, are absent at breakfast.

Eventually, Greta drags Fiona away. I turn to Sanjay.

“I need you to speak to the king,” I whisper. It’s one last-ditch effort to get to Jovan. He’d known Sanjay his whole life. He’d trusted the red-haired man to go to Osolis as a delegate. Maybe Jovan would listen to him.

Sanjay chokes on his drink. “What?”

“He won’t listen to me. He’s completely deaf when Blaine is concerned,” I say. “I thought if he spoke to someone else who knows about Blaine, then the information might be better received.”

Sanjay sits ramrod straight on the bench. I recognize terror when I see it. “Please, Sanjay. You’re going to tell him anyway. If he doesn’t come around I’ll have to go behind his back to take Blaine down. I’d prefer to avoid that.”

* * *

I spend the morning putting the last of my plan into motion, speaking to the last two people who will be instrumental in bringing Blaine down: Macy and Sole. By lunch, I’m exhausted. I decide to give myself the afternoon off Tatuma duties. There’s nothing else I can do to ensure Blaine’s demise. It’s up to Rhone and my Outer Rings friends now.