Kings of Deceit - R

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

It was not the quantity of the wine that particularly bothered Rhys, not even the bitter taste that lingered in his mouth after every sip, but rather the sheer quantity of alcohol contained in the one bottle. Vaina wine had twice the alcohol concentration of what Rhys was used to drinking, for the wine itself, an already potent solution, was then mixed with distilled liquor, resulting in a concoction never meant to be drunk by the bottle. It was not only the single bottle he was required to drink that worried him, for Rhys knew that throughout the day he'd be offered many drinks, drinks he could not turn down without raising suspicion. Vaguely he wondered if this very concern had crossed Jessa's mind and if it had perhaps been her reasoning for the punishment itself.

Shortly after Rhys and Jessa situated themselves at the table for breakfast the rest of Rhys' family filed in, his mother making a beeline for him with a kiss and a hug.

"Happy birthday, my darling," she smiled. "Twenty-six already, I can hardly believe it."

"Hopefully this year will be an improvement from the last, though I really doubt it," Anja looked pointedly at Jessa, smirking to herself as Jessa flushed. Rhys only shrugged off Anja's insults, determined to not let her pernicious remarks ruin his day. With a solid supply of liquor Rhys could take on any of Anja's antics.

Dima was ever enthusiastic, spending all of breakfast relaying to Jessa stories of Rhys' birthdays past, many of which featured particularly mortifying stories that could always seem to be traced back to Victor or alcohol, and often both. Even his father was in a somewhat pleasant mood, his serious expression traded temporarily for a very small smile. Goblets were passed around the table and filled with wine as a toast was made to Rhys - one of many to come, Rhys was sure - and he downed his glass with reluctance, Jessa giggling to herself the whole time.

Much of the day passed in a similar manner as Rhys went through his daily routine. Jessa followed him constantly, always there to hand him a glass of blood-red wine whenever it looked as though Rhys was simply too sober. Each person he encountered as he went about his business would offer him a drink in good nature, Rhys always accepting with a smile. After a number of drinks, for Rhys had lost count just past midday, he felt the effects of the alcohol beginning to hit hard. Though the spacing of the drinks allowed for his drunkenness to be somewhat postponed, after a certain number of drinks there was no avoiding it.

Rhys lounged back in his study, his eyes glazed over as he struggled through reading the same lines over and over. His head felt heavy and fuzzy and he had no intentions of leaving his chair, but besides his lethargy he felt good. A knock on the door brought Rhys to attention and Jessa entered, the bottle of wine in her hand.

"Jessa!" Rhys exclaimed, a grin plastered on his face. "And you brought the wine!" He rested his head on one hand as he reached out for the glass, significantly more interested in his duty than he had been that morning. Honestly, the more Rhys thought about it the less he understood why he'd been so hesitant to take on the challenge.

Jessa hesitated before handing the glass over, appraising Rhys with a smirk on her face. "You're incredibly drunk."

"Probably," Rhys agreed with a weak shrug. Jessa handed over the glass with a look of amusement on her face. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You like having power over me?"

This time it was Jessa who merely shrugged. Rhys grinned, raising his glass in the air before putting it to his lips with enthusiasm.

Several hours later and one extremely uncomfortable dinner later Rhys stumbled his way into his own party, the ground swaying beneath him until it rushed to his face. A well placed chaise lounge caught Rhys' fall and he rolled over to his back, sprawling out and staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rhys this drunk and I've seen him pretty damn drunk," Victor laughed, hunched over Rhys and studying him with interest. "How did dinner go?"

"Awful," Jessa answered, though her laugh contradicted her words. "Rhys tried very hard to hide his drunkenness but I'm pretty sure everyone knew when he confused the fish for butter and began to spread it on his bread."

"They'r the sm colr," Rhys slurred, rubbing his eyes. A tall figure loomed above him, and though Rhys had been aware of Victor's presence only moments before he somehow felt it necessary to reiterate his awareness."Victor! When did you get here?"

"This is just pathetic," Freya groaned. Someone else - Ero, perhaps - snickered but Rhys paid them no mind. His thoughts were consumed with the woman standing before him, her long copper hair illuminating the whole room like a candle. Or perhaps her head was on fire - Rhys couldn't be entirely sure, not that he could find the will to care. Though the room had a certain hazy quality to it Jessa's face was focused in perfect clarity, her soft green eyes watching Rhys. He smiled as she did, noting the dimples in her cheeks and the fullness of her lips.

"What are you staring at?" Jessa asked, tilting her head to the side.

"You. You're beautiful, do you know that?"

The room broke out into a constant stream of murmurs and Jessa flushed bright scarlet, her amusement quickly turning to discomfort. Rhys wasn't quite sure why everyone was suddenly so interested in his words. They seemed like a perfectly natural thing to say.

"What? You are."

"Am I beautiful too, Rhys?" Victor asked, fluttering his eyelashes like a lady.

"No, you're ugly," Rhys mumbled. His gaze never left Jessa, and he was fairly certain from the looks he was receiving that he had the expression of a puppy. Jessa reached for the bottle beside her, obviously flustered as it slipped from her grasp at her first attempt to pick it up. Her hands shook slightly as she poured but slowly the bottle emptied, the last few droplets running out the neck.

"Last drink for you," she said as she handed Rhys the goblet. Looking down at the dark wine he smiled, raising it into the air to the cheers of his friends before finishing the glass in one long drink. Selene and Victor came to Rhys' side, forcing him to his feet and allowing him to gain his barrings until they were sure he could stand and walk.

"Alright," Victor grinned, "now it's time for the fun to begin!"

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Rhys may have been able to stand unaided, but he was not doing a particularly good job of walking like a normal person. Jessa laughed at his ungainly swagger as he made his way around the room. There was not a person he came to that he didn’t fall against, make a drunken show of apologising and kiss their hand. Each time he did so, Jessa and their friends burst out into a fresh wave of giggles.

Jessa kept to the back of their group as they followed him. She could see everything he was doing, but she did not want any more awkward encounters with him if she could help it. It was obvious he was out of his mind and had no idea what he was saying, so it was easy to brush off his earlier comment once his attention had diverted, but it had still been embarrassing. This evening was not meant to rattle her; it was meant to entertain her. She shook herself, realising she had stopped and her friends had left her behind.

She raced to catch up with them just as Rhys had the misfortune to run into Anja. The wine in her glass sloshed ominously as she peered down her nose at Rhys in disgust. “For Etrene’s sake, Rhys,” she hissed. “What are you and your pathetic little friends doing now?”

Rhys straightened, looking offended though it clearly took some time for Anja’s words to sink in. To everyone’s surprise, he reached up and pinched his sister’s cheek. Victor hid his chortle behind his meaty hand. Plaintively, he asked “Why are you always so evil? And psycho, can’t forget that.”

Jessa could see Anja working hard to keep her expression neutral. Her eyes flashed in anger, but Rhys did not notice. “Seriously, don’t you ever wanna take a break from being a complete bitch to everyone?”

Anja stepped close, drawing something out of her pocket. When Jessa caught a glimpse of a blade, her heart sped up. Anja had brought a dagger to her brother’s party… she could not actually say she was surprised, but the woman really was psychotic.

“I’m not afraid to use this, dear brother,” she whispered, holding the dagger near Rhys’ stomach. With the way Rhys was swaying in his attempt to see what Anja was doing, Jessa feared Rhys would manage to impale himself on it. She pushed through their friends just as Victor moved forward and pulled Rhys away.

“I think that’s enough of that,” Jessa said. “Rhys is drunk and very sorry, aren’t you Rhys?”

“Not a chance,” he said, only digging himself further into his hole. He did not seem bothered at all, and though that was probably due to his intoxication, it was probably also because he knew Anja better than she did. Jessa had to admit that Anja probably would not kill her own brother – not over a drunken insult, anyway.

“You really need this wimp of a girl protecting you, Rhys?” Anja said in disgust. Rhys flailed against Victor’s grasp, and despite the serious note to the situation Jessa could not help giggling. Anja, realising they really were all just being foolish, sighed gustily and stormed off.

“Well, that’s one family member successfully annoyed. Who’s next?” Victor said, enjoying this far too much. He released Rhys, who promptly headed for the door. Jessa was not sure if it was usually acceptable for the host of the party to just leave his guests, but there was no stopping him even with how drunk he was. Their friends did not seem inclined to stop him, either, probably expecting that Rhys would find something far funnier to entertain them away from everyone’s eyes.

They followed him outside. The chill hit his bare arms, though it was nothing to the cold at midnight. She rubbed her arms and looked on as Rhys clambered gracelessly onto a boulder. He was barely off the ground but he surveyed the area as if he was on top of the entire world. Victor and Ero stood beside it, holding them arms out in case he fell. Rhys ignored them and cried, “I am the king of the world. And you are all my loyal subjects. Where’s Jessa? She can be my queen.”

Jessa looked down and shaded her eyes with her hand, feeling mortified. Before anyone could comment Rhys slipped. Jessa’s heart raced but he regained his balance and was helped down from the rock. He looked around in disorientation until his gaze found red hair. He smiled.

“You know,” he began, as everyone crowded around him to hear what ridiculous thing he had to say next. His words were slurred and stilted; the alcohol was clearly affecting him even more. “If you let me, I will make you the… the happiest woman in the world.”

Everyone was stunned into silence for a moment and then Ero began to laugh. “Well, that’s great mate, but I’m not a woman. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Rhys frowned, realising he had been facing Ero as he had spoken. “No, but you were…”

“I think someone has no clue what they’re doing,” Victor announced, guiding the confused and mumbling Rhys away. Jessa stayed where she was, letting everyone head inside without her. She sat on the boulder Rhys had just vacated. She could not understand why Rhys was so fixated upon her when he was drunk. Although she could easily try to pretend Rhys had meant to face Selene when he had spoken, she knew it had been Ero’s red hair that caught his eye. That indicated his words had been intended for her.

“Jessa! Are you coming in?” Freya called, poking her head around the front door. She saw Jessa sitting on the boulder and waved to her. “Rhys has just decided to take offence to the statue of his great-great-great grandfather and has challenged him to a duel.”

When Jessa did not move, Freya came outside and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t want to miss this.” She dragged Jessa along, who did have to admit that it sounded hilarious. Just before they entered the house, Freya saw Jessa’s discomforted expression. “Jessa, he’s drunk and being obnoxious. Don’t take it to heart.”

Jessa smiled until she continued. “Although, I’m not saying he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He’s just going about it the wrong way.”

Inside, Rhys had pulled off the blunted sword hanging on the wall and was waving it dangerously in front of the statue’s face. Victor was egging him on, encouraging Rhys’ anger by claiming the statue had certainly tripped him over when he walked past. A smile tugged at Jessa’s lips as she went to stand beside Selene.

“Have you ever seen him like this before?”

“Well, he’s been ridiculous before,” Selene said, “But usually he calms down after he’s done it. This is one thing after the other.”

Eventually, Rhys was persuaded to believe that he had won the fight against his ancestor and was guided back into the room with the rest of the guests. Jessa hung back to pick up the sword Rhys had discarded. She put it back on its stand and then made her way into the room just as there was a tremendous crash. Jessa closed her eyes, not daring to look. When she did, she saw Rhys crashed on the floor, a table upended nearby and a dozen or so glasses smashed around him. She was surprised that he had managed to remain reasonably unscathed.

Vyserene rushed over to her son and started whispering frantically to him. He kept shaking his head and frowning. Vyserene called Dima over to them, but when Dima tried to pick Rhys up he pushed him away, mumbling something Jessa could not hear from the doorway. She saw Vyserene sigh and then beckon Jessa over. She went with trepidation.

“Jessa, I’m sorry. Can you take Rhys to bed, please? I think he’s had quite enough excitement.”

“Why me?” she asked. There was no way she would be able to carry him, and she was unsure he would be able to walk himself anymore.

“Because he won’t let anyone but you do it,” Vyserene said tiredly. “He says that you’ll be gentlest with him. Please just do it for me. He’s embarrassing himself.”

Jessa could not help thinking that that had been the point of the day. Dima, who was still hovering nearby and clearly rather drunk himself, commented, “She can be gentle with me whenever she likes.”

Rhys growled. “No, she abs’lutely cannot, you jackass.”

Jessa rolled her eyes and bent to pick Rhys up, who let her willingly. She glanced at Dima, for once not letting his words affect her personally. “Are you really that drunk and desperate?” she asked mildly. “Seriously, you’ve propositioned every woman here, I’m sure. Get a grip.”

Rhys draped himself around her and they began the difficult task of navigating themselves out of the room and up the stairs. Although Rhys tried to be helpful, he did not do a very good job and by the time they miraculously made it to his room, Jessa’s arms were aching. She pushed him off her and let him stagger to his bed. He sat down heavily on it and beckoned her over. She went over warily.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. Jessa looked away. Rhys sighed.

“You don’t believe anything I say about you, do you?” he asked, sounding far too concerned over something so trivial.

“You’re drunk, Rhys,” she said tiredly.

“You always say that,” he protested. If Jessa had not thought he would make something out of it in his drunken state, she might have helped him partially undress so that he would be more comfortable when he slept. As it was, the idea was impossible. She put her hands in her lap and shrugged.

“Why won’t you let anyone care?” Rhys asked, though his words were quiet and his eyes were drooping heavily. Jessa did not respond, but it did not matter for a moment later, Rhys fell back against his pillow and passed out.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Never before in Rhys' life had he been so sure he'd been poisoned. His mouth tasted of bile, the stench of vomit coming from somewhere nearby, and his head felt as if it might rip in two at any moment. Paralyzed in pain, Rhys made no movement from his stiff position in bed. When a sudden burst of light shone in through the open curtains he sword, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his face. Some unseen hand pulled the pillow away, ripping the sheets off of Rhys' body. When Rhys gathered the will to open his eyes his mother loomed over him, completely unamused.

"Not now," he grumbled, trying to reach for another pillow. Vyserene swatted his hand away.

"I've had enough." Rhys swallowed, instantly sobering. He would have given anything to be yelled at, to be slapped, to be cursed out, for there was nothing more terrifying than his mother's quiet, understated disapproval.

"I gave you free rein for many years, never once complaining about your habits. When you became an adult I let you do as you pleased. I do not interfere with your quarrels with your siblings, I do not chastise you for your choices; all I ask for is that you in return act like a man. You are twenty-six, Rhys. It is time you acted like it."

Though thoroughly embarrassed and uncomfortable with his mother's scorn, Rhys felt the need to defend himself. "I was just having fun with my friends, mother. It's a silly tradition and nothing more. Do I not work every day? Do I not follow your every wish and command like an obedient son? Did I not marry Jessa despite already being engaged to another?"

Vyserene looked taken back. "You and Selene were engaged?" She said quietly.

Rhys stared at his hands. "We hadn't told anyone yet. It had only happened a week before I found out about the arrangement with the du Rene's."

The reveal was enough to throw Vyserene for a moment long enough for Rhys to gather what jumbled thoughts he had. "It doesn't matter now," he said before his mother could respond. "What's done is done."

Though the news softened his mother's reproach it did not stop it completely. "Yes, you have always been mature on the whole, but we cannot let these little indiscretions get out of hand. You are a Marinon, Rhys. That name means more to this country than does the name du Rene. We are the single most powerful family in all of Etrene if not all of the kingdoms. With such power comes responsibility. You may no longer be the heir but you still have obligations to fulfill. When I die you will take my place; that is no laughing matter."

There was simply nothing Rhys could say to counter her words. Everything she said was true, even if Rhys did not wish to own up to it. He swallowed, nodding solemnly. Vyserene sighed and squeezed his hand lightly before exiting, leaving Rhys to mull over his guilt. There was not much time for thought for light knock on the door brought his attention to Jessa who stood still in the door frame.

"Come in, come in," he urged. "And while your'e at it could you shut the damn curtains? Honestly, my mother is cruel."

Jessa relented, going to the windows and once again putting the room back into wonderful darkness. To Rhys' disappointment she did not sit down beside him, instead standing at the foot of his bed with rigid posture. Rhys groaned; if she was this uncomfortable around him now he loathed to think what he must have done the night before.

"Just tell me," he said, holding his head beween his hands. "How bad was it? Gods, I can only remember bits and pieces. I've never had such gaps in my memory before. Please tell me I did not threaten a statue?"

A hint of a smile played on Jessa's lips. "You did. Your great-great-great grandfather, if I'm not mistaken."

Rhys groaned, hiding his eyes behind his palms. A few more half-formed memories floated to the forefront of his mind, and as he replayed them he sincerely hoped they were gross exaggerations made up by a drunken mind.

"And what exactly did I say?" He hedged, too embarrassed to ask for certain conversations to be validated. "Did I say anything... strange to you?"

Jessa's flush gave away the truth before her words did. "A few things." Rhys did not need to question her further - the few lines he did remember were more than enough. He'd rather remain ignorant of the rest. Of all the ways he could have gone about expressing his feelings giving drunken compliments was not high on the list. The worst part of all was that such drunkenness would only be used as an excuse for Jessa to pass off his words, just as she always did, even if they had truth to them.

"I'm really sorry about that," he said, forcing an apologetic smile. "This is why I never drink quite that much. I'm an absolute idiot." Jessa laughed awkwardly though she still avoided Rhys' eyes. He hesitated on his next words, remembering his promise to not bring up he subject of his feelings for the time being. Still, Rhys could not let it pass with Jessa thinking everything he'd said was the product of alcohol.

"I still meant it," he said quietly. "It wasn't right how I went about it and I'm not proud of what I said, but I don't make things up when I'm drunk. I was without inhibitions, but everything I said had truth behind it." Jessa did not respond, not that he'd expect her to, and Rhys quickly tried to direct the subject to something less weighty. "You must think me to be quite the drunkard now."

Jessa shook her head. "No, you just like to please your friends. You may not make the best choices but you're still alright to me."

It was the best thing Rhys had heard all morning.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Rhys groaned and held his head. Jessa felt a twinge of sympathy for him. After all, it had been her dare, so this had really been her fault. She had seen Vyserene on her way here, and the woman had not looked at all pleased. She sighed and fetched Rhys a glass of water from the sink in the corner of his room. He accepted it gratefully and downed it in one.

“Well, I really just came to check that you were okay and that my dare hadn’t killed you,” she said, heading for the door. Rhys looked downtrodden that she was leaving so soon. “I need to go and buy another bottle of wine for your father. Let us both hope that he neither realised what you were drinking last night nor looked in his cabinet yet. If he has, I’m getting out while I can.”

“Can I come with you?” Rhys asked eagerly. Jessa eyed him sceptically.

“I don’t think you’re really in a fit state to go anywhere,” she said. “And it’s hardly going to be an exciting trip.”

Rhys protested, but when he stood up, swayed and groaned, Jessa knew she had made her point. Rhys sunk heavily back onto the bed. Jessa smiled mischievously.

“I know the real reason you want to come with me,” she said. Rhys stared at her in confusion. Her grin widened, though she tried to tamper it down so she could appear serious. “Don’t worry, I’ll let Ero know that you meant everything you said last night and are determined to make him the happiest woman ever.”

She left Rhys spluttering in her wake.

***

Rhys was downstairs by the time she returned an hour or so later. He was dozing lightly in the front sitting room, the curtains drawn. Jessa watched him from the doorway, the brown bag containing the wine bottle resting against her leg and out of sight of any observers. She smiled gently. Her smile quickly widened into a grin and she came into the room making as much noise as she could. Rhys stirred. She headed straight for the curtains and drew them enough that the bright winter sun shone directly on his face. He groaned, “Whoever that is, I’m going to kill you.”

“Well, I’ll have to hope my training will let me live a little longer,” she said lightly, placing the bottle on his lap. He looked at it dumbly then tilted back to look at her.

“Oh. Maybe I won’t kill you,” he said. He pulled the bottle out of the bag and checked that it was the same as the one he had stolen. Rhys nodded. “I guess I should put this back.”

“Sure you’re up to it?”

“I can’t ask you to do it, can I?” he said, standing. He seemed a lot safer on his feet now, she did have to admit. She also knew he was right: she may have, unbeknownst to him, picked a lock once before, but it had been pure fluke that it had worked.

“I’ll come with you. And I’ll take that,” she said, getting the bottle from him. “Just in case you lose your grip on it. It wasn’t cheap, and your father will figure out it’s gone soon.”

“I’ll pay you back,” he said, though Jessa shook her head. She could afford it and she had made him drink the bottle. He shrugged. “My father is in town right now, so we’d better get going.” Jessa shadowed him, watching him carefully as he walked to check he was okay.

He had had the foresight to bring his lock picks downstairs with him. He made short work of the lock and was in and out of the study with the other bottle of wine in a matter of minutes. He grinned at her. “Easy.”

Jessa mockingly shook her head at him. “Well, I would have expected nothing less from a master statue slayer.”

Rhys laughed hard. She joined in as they walked back down the hallway. When they reached the statue in question, she put a hand on its shoulder. “You were just no match for him,” she said to it sadly. Rhys laughed harder.

Turning her back on it, Jessa’s expression turned sly. “Oh, and Ero’s delighted you’ve finally admitted your interest in him. He’s making plans for your elopement. Freya has resigned herself to being rejected and I’ll pretend I don’t know what’s going on so you can disappear with him.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I didn’t necessarily mean everything I said last night.”

“It’s much more fun to believe you meant that bit, though,” she replied. Despite how awkward she had been around Rhys at the start of the day, she was feeling far more at ease now. There was nothing like teasing someone about their most embarrassing moments, even if she had to ignore certain uncomfortable truths about it to do that. She pushed those thoughts from her mind.

“You don’t have any work to do today, do you?” she asked. Rhys said, warily, that he did not. She smiled. “Well, I’m thinking you need a bit of fresh air to clear your head. We don’t have to go far, but do you feel like going for a walk with me?”

Rhys did not hesitate, a huge smile on his face like she had never seen before. “I would definitely like that.”

She nodded. As she had not taken off her coat or her shoes, she waited while Rhys got ready. He was slower than usual, since his head hurt more when he bent to lace up his boots. Without thinking, Jessa held his wrist and squeezed it in comfort. Rhys glanced at her in surprise, and then quickly turned his head back.

“Lead the way,” he said, gesturing to the door.

She decided to take the beach path, for she did not much fancy Rhys wandering about on the cliff tops when he was probably dizzy from the hang over. They walked along the beach in silence for a while, enjoying the cool breeze and the other’s company. Jessa surprised herself with how content she felt in that moment.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” she said, once they had walked halfway down the beach. Rhys looked at her questioningly as she pulled a box from her large coat pocket. “I bought something else while I was in the city. I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to get you something for your birthday.”

Rhys looked speechless as he took the box from her hands. She watched apprehensively as he opened it, wondering what his reaction would be. While she had been wandering through the market, she had realised she knew very little about what Rhys would actually want. Eventually, she had settled on a rather nice looking pen. It was not particularly personal, but it had been the best she could do.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Had it been a button, a ribbon, or even a stray rock Rhys would have accepted the gift pleasure, but just the very notion that Jessa had though of him, had tried to think of something he might like, warmed his heart. He turned the dip-pen over in his hand, studying the ornate silver filigree that decorated the sides. Jessa watched for his reaction expectantly, her fingers tapping away on her arm nervously. Rhys smiled, placing the pen back in the velvet lined box. "It's lovely, Jessa." Then, before he could convince himself that it was too forward, he pulled Jessa to him in a tight hug. She was stiff at first but slowly began to relax, allowing her own arms to wrap around Rhys' back as he held her there for a moment. When he finally released Jessa from his hold they both looked away, though most likely for different reasons.

"I'm surprised it wasn't alcohol," Rhys quipped, trying to diffuse the tension.

Jessa laughed. "I think you've had enough for the time being." Her expression grew serious then. "What did your mother want this morning?"

Rhys kicked at a stray rock in his path, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just reminding me of my duties," he sneered at the last word, hating how it felt coming from his mouth. "I have certain expectations to uphold; this name comes with responsibilities as well as privileges."

"Illegal responsibilities," Jessa said under her breath, though Rhys did not miss the jab.

"It's not really illegal if you're the one making the rules," Rhys reminded her, trying to remember how many times he'd been told that very phrase.

Jessa frowned and pursed her lips. "You know it's considered treason for a noble to create laws. The King holds the sole ability to enact laws - all governing must be run by the King by a noble before it can be instituted."

"Yes, well since when have we ever listened to the King? All these years later none of us seem to have been executed, so obviously the King doesn't find that particular rule to be enforceable."

Jessa stopped, forcing Rhys to turn to her. "Why do you tell me these things? I could have you all arrested for treason so easily with a single letter. Why say these things?"

For a conversation that had begun so lighthearted it certainly seemed to have taken a dark turn. This seemed to be the course of all their exchanges. Rhys held Jessa's eyes, watching as her resolve faded as the seconds passed. "Because I know you wouldn't. Besides, your word may appease your father but in the end it would do nothing to change how things are. It would take a war to flip the balance of power, a war the King is not willing to risk."

They continued down the beach path for a while more, once again starting up a genial conversation that washed away the heaviness of their serious words. They spoke of nothing of consequence, staring up a series of questions regarding each other's interests. Books and music were a topic of much discussion, interrupted occasionally by questions of each other's favorite color or favorite meal. When Rhys wandered onto the topic of dance he took pause at Jessa's answers, hardly able to believe what he heard.

"You never learned to dance? The coranto, the pavane? Please tell me you know the lavolta."

"There was never much need for it," Jessa explained. "I was rarely invited to state affairs."

Rhys sighed, shaking his head in exaggerated disgust. "Really, Jessa, this is just sad. You are part of an elite social circle now - you cannot not know how to dance. It will be an outrage."

Resolved to fix the issue, Rhys grabbed Jessa's hand and pulled her onto a flat, hard portion of the beach. "What are you doing?" She gasped as Rhys swept into a bow.

"Teaching you to dance," he said simply, a silly grin on his face. "Now curtsy." Jessa remained immobile, frozen to the spot. "Honestly Jessa, if you can't even curtsy you certainly can't dance." Jessa groaned but relented, dropping into a small curtsy. "Good, now take my hand and face this way."

Standing side by side and facing forward, Rhys held out their joined hands. "Now follow my lead." He took three small steps forward, prompting Jessa to do the same, before doing a small jump which Jessa tried to duplicate with some comical results. Rhys laughed, taking them back to the starting position and counting out loud as Jessa went through the steps. After having somewhat mastered the beginning, Rhys led her through the brief circle and change in position.

"Your hand goes on my shoulder," he said, waiting for her to comply before he placed one hand on the small of her back and the other on her waist. It was impossible to not note the closeness of their bodies, and Rhys was sure he was not imagining the rapid beating of her heart. Rhys took a few small steps before leaning in close to Jessa's ear and whispering "jump." With her small jump Rhys lifted Jessa into the air, spinning half way around before setting her back on the ground, only to repeat the process over and over. After her initially shock wore off Rhys caught Jessa smiling, the dimples that marked her true smiles reappearing. She laughed lightly as a pin in her hair came undone, all her copper waves cascading down her back, tousled by the lifts. Her enjoyment was contagious, and Rhys could not help but watch her, completely forgetting his own steps. He stumbled, Jessa too losing her footing and crashing into Rhys. They both took a step back, erupting into laughter.

"You're not half bad, honestly," Rhys assured Jessa as she began to apologize for her misplaced feet. "It'll take some practice but if you can master the lavolta you can do any of the dances. In a week I can have you looking like you've danced your whole life."

Before Jessa could respond the sound of someone clapping interrupted their conversation, Rhys turning to see Kieran approaching them slowly, clapping with a grin on his face. "Bravo," he said. "I did not realize impromptu balls were the new fashion."

"I was just teaching Jessa to dance," Rhys explained. He suddenly realized he was still holding Jessa's hand, though as she did not seem to have noticed just yet he took advantage of the moment, not letting it go.

"Well, then I'm sorry to interrupt your lessons. However, I was wondering if I might have a word with Jessa?" He held out his hand towards Jessa in expectation.

Kieran's gesture seemed to bring Jessa back to reality. She looked quickly down at Rhys' hand, dropping it with a bit of a start, her face flushed. She looked briefly at Rhys as if to ask if he knew what was going on, but Rhys only shrugged in ignorance. With no reason to say no, Jessa took Kieran's hand apprehensively, looking to Rhys in apology.

When Rhys did not immediately leave Kieran smirked, waving him away. Rhys grumbled but did as he was asked, heading back towards the house. Before he could get far Jessa called his name and Rhys turned around, hopeful Kieran's words had been short. Instead she simply smiled, "Thank you for the lessons."

Rhys couldn't help but smile back. "Any time."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa watched Kieran awkwardly for a moment. Although she had definitely grown used to the man, and considered him principled after the run-in with the king’s spies, he had never requested to speak to her alone. She had only been around him with other people present. This was disconcerting; she had no idea what he wished to discuss.

“Do you want to sit?” Kieran finally said, dropping to the sand. Jessa lifted her skirts and sat cross-legged in front of him. He smiled at her. “I was wondering if your father had responded to the letter you and Rhys sent him a little over a week ago.”

She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t. He didn’t reply to all of my letters anyway, and before my friend Alistair came here and I sent them through him.” There was no point lying. They all knew she had done it and that she was not really spying anymore. She could not really imagine deceiving Rhys again. Except, of course, with the blood book. Although she had looked at the notes she had made a couple of times, she had been largely distracted by Rhys and so had not been able to make sense of the code in which it was written.

“I would have thought he would have replied to this one. After all, he thinks it’s actual information about the Marinons’ plans to usurp him.”

“Perhaps the letter has not had time to get here. The post can be a little unreliable, even at the best of times,” Jessa said, with a shrug. To be honest, she felt uneasy about the deception and had been glad she had been able to forget about it. In her eyes, if the king had not replied to her, he had not found anything suspicious in her words. The lie being discovered had been her worst fear.

“Well, I suppose so. As soon as you hear, will you let me know? I may have run from Ovis, but I am still invested in this country’s concerns. Having an unstable king is not something I want for it.”

Jessa nodded. “Of course.” She ran a finger through the sand, drawing nonsense symbols. The silence grew and Jessa eventually lifted her head. “Was there something else you wanted?”

Kieran watched her speculatively. “I saw you with Rhys just now. You seem to be getting on pretty well…”

“I know you well enough to know you generally don’t like beating around the bush. What is it?” Jessa asked, fearing what he might say next. Kieran shrugged and grinned, leaning back onto his hands. Jessa turned away and watched the horizon, sure that she would not like whatever he had to say if he was reticent to speak.

“What do you think of Rhys?”

She had been asked that a few times since she had met him. Each time she had given a different answer, and each time she had felt uncomfortable speaking about him. This time, however, was far worse. Her insides twisted and she swallowed. “Well… He’s apparently a good dancer. And a good teacher, given his defence training with me. He’s very funny when he’s drunk. He’s protective of those he cares about–”

“Jessa, Jessa,” Kieran interrupted, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask you to give me a list of what he is good at. I asked what you thought of him, as a person.”

Jessa averted her gaze and said nothing. Kieran sighed. “I’ll tell you what I think. You like him, perhaps for those reasons and perhaps for others. And you’re… drawn to him, even if you try to pretend to yourself that you are not.” She could hear that he was being careful with his words, as if he thought she would snap at any moment.

She pursed her lips and looked down at the ground, focusing hard on the shapes she had drawn into the sand. “He likes you too, Jessa. And I know that he’s tried to tell you, but you won’t listen. I heard what he said to you yesterday at his party – he said it loud enough, after all. He isn’t toying with you, Jessa, and he isn’t confused. He has bad timing, yes, but he means it.”

It was harder to ignore the words when someone other than Rhys was saying them. She bit her lip, still keeping her head down. This conversation had become a bit too real, and she needed to leave. Just as she was about to stand, muttering an apology, Kieran stopped her.

“I still want to know what you think. If you really want Rhys to stop, you can tell me and I’ll let him know. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

She stared down the beach, her heart beating hard. Jessa rubbed a hand through her hair, remembering it had fallen out of her bun. After slowly gathering her hair up and pinning it back, just to give her more time, she said, “I… I don’t know.”

Kieran smiled. “That isn’t a ‘no’, Jessa.”

Jessa ignored him, her gaze captured by a figure stumbling towards them from the city. She frowned when the woman came close enough for her to recognise. Jessa stood up hurriedly, murmuring an another apology to Kieran and then pushed past him. She ran to the woman just as she fell to the sand, looking dazed. “Irina?”

“Jessa?” the woman replied, face scrunching up in bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”

Jessa stopped suddenly, staring at Irina. “I live here,” she said slowly. Although she knew Irina had hand-delivered the letter a few days ago, she had not expected the woman to still be here. “What are you doing here?”

“This isn’t Ovis.”

“No, it’s Jasrah.”

“Oh,” Irina mumbled, rubbing her head. “But you live in Ovis, not Jasrah. Why are we here?”

Jessa frowned and sunk to the ground beside her old university colleague. She put a hand to her forehead and examined her eyes. Jessa could not ascertain what was wrong, but something had happened to Irina.

“Is she alright?” Kieran asked, coming over. He looked down at the pair.

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing here. Irina, do you remember delivering a letter to me?” Irina’s eyelids drooped. Jessa gripped her head and forced her to stay awake. “Irina? Answer me. Do you remember the letter, or what it meant?”

Irina did not respond. Jessa held her in her arms, fearing for a moment that the worst had happened, but she was merely asleep. She looked at Kieran apprehensively. “Come on, help me take her to the house. I need to find out what’s going on, and she needs a bed.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Only minutes after Rhys settled into his study a commotion sounded from downstairs, drawing his attention. He poked his head outside the door and heard Jessa speaking quickly to Kieran, her voice thick with worry. Rhys rushed down the stairs to be greeted by Kieran holding a woman's limp body in his arms. For an instant Rhys assumed the woman was dead, looking to Jessa with alarm, but she shook her head, guessing Rhys' thoughts.

"She's a scholar from the university in Ovis," Jessa explained in between giving Kieran instructions for where to put the woman. "We found her on the beach. She just passed out while we were talking."

Jessa insisted the woman be put in her bedroom, not wanting to bring her presence to the attention of the rest of the family. They followed Kieran closely up the stairs, Rhys locking the door behind him as they filed into the room. Once inside Kieran laid the woman on the bed as gently as possible, all three of them crowding close around her still form. After a moment of silent observation Jessa sat down beside the woman, stroking her forehead gently as a mother might do to a child.

"Do you think she's ill?" Kieran asked, stepping away as if nervous to catch some disease.

"No, she doesn't feel warm and she didn't seem sick when we spoke, just disoriented."

"Disoriented as in...?" Rhys prompted, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed.

Jessa frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. "She didn't know where we were or why we were there. She was completely dazed and confused unlike anything I've seen. It was like she'd lost her memory."

"Should I call for a healer?" Kieran suggested, heading for the door.

"No!" Jessa snapped. Rhys and Kieran regarded her with surprise. She looked back, moving her hand to grasp the woman's and give it a gentle squeeze. "Not yet, anyway. I think she might be in some sort of trouble and I don't want too many people aware that she is here."

Though obviously not enthused by the plan, Kieran agreed to Jessa's request, leaving the room to go fetch a glass of water and something for the woman to eat should she wake up. With Kieran gone Rhys and Jessa sat in silence, each fixated with the unconscious woman between them. Despite their earlier dance on the beach, their lighthearted talks and exchanges, there was a new palpable tension that Rhys could not ignore. By now he should have been used to such rapid changes in emotion, for Jessa seemed to constantly be teetering between regarding him as an old friend and acting distant any time he neared. It was a strange form of emotional whiplash.

Rhys attempted to break the tension. "What's her name?"

"Irina."

"Are you close to her?"

Jessa considered the question for a moment. "No, not particularly. I knew her fairly well but I wouldn't say we were great friends, just friendly colleagues."

"Did you know she was in Jasrah?" Rhys asked.

Not responding, her silence and apprehension made clear that she did not particularly want to answer . Rhys scooted closer, leaning in over Irina. His hand reached out, almost sititng on Jessa's, but in the last second he gave the action a second thought and set it beside hers. "You know you can tell me, Jessa. No matter what is going on I'm not going to betray your colleague."

Whether Jessa trusted Rhys words or not was another matter entirely, but with his promise she relented. "I didn't know she was in Jasrah but I was in contact with her, at least in a manner of speaking. She sent me a note at the university a few days ago."

From her tone, Rhys gathered Jessa would not be relaying the content of the note. He let the matter slide, instead refocussing his attention on the woman. Kieran reentered the room shortly, bringing with him food and drink which he set quietly on the beside table before retaking his position at the foot of the bed.

"Are you sure we shouldn't call for a healer?" He pressed, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. "Or at least get Vyserene. She has a knack with these sort of situations."

"No," Jessa affirmed, her voice taking on more authority. "It's too early to take any action. We don't even know if anything's wrong at all. She could have just been disoriented."

"Disoriented enough to not know you moved to Jasrah months ago as consequence of one of the most talked about marriages in years?" said Kieran.

Jessa glowered at Kieran and Rhys took this as a cue to step in, asking Kieran to see if he could find Rhys' pocket watch he'd left in his room. Happy to have some menial task, Kieran exited quickly. Rhys turned to Jessa and pulled the watch from his pocket with a smile.

"He's never done well around sick people of any kind - he gets absolutely flustered. That should keep him occupied for a while."

When it looked as if Irina would not be waking any time soon Rhys and Jessa retired to a few stuffed chairs sitting in the corner of the room, crowding around the slow burning fire. Jessa stared into the flames in absolute stillness, her face giving the illusion of blank thought while he bright eyes suggested otherwise. Rhys leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, watching Jessa with a curious expression.

"What did Kieran ask you about?" He prompted, trying to mask his intense curiosity from his voice.

Though she did not move from her position, Jessa's eyes flickered, her lips tightening and her brows creasing ever so slightly. "Nothing interesting," she said. "He just wanted to know if the king had written back yet. I told him I haven't heard anything."

"You're lying, Jessa," Rhys said, drumming his fingers on his arm. "If that was all you wouldn't look so nervous." A thought nagged at Rhys, one that had presented itself when Kieran had asked to speak with Jessa alone. "Did he tell you the same thing he told me?"

This brought Jessa out of her forced focus. "What did he say to you?"

Rhys said nothing, only staring back at Jessa with the slightest of smiles, knowing that, had Kieran prompted Jessa on her own feelings, Rhys' silence would be more than enough validation to her question. With comprehension dawning on Jessa's face, it did not take long for Rhys' thoughts to be proved correct.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa turned back to the flames, thankful that they could not give her knowing looks as Rhys was currently doing. “It’s none of your business, Rhys,” she said, though the damage was already done.

“If it’s about me, then I think it is my business,” he said, and she heard the chair legs move across the floor as he brought his chair closer. Their knees were almost touching. She stared at his leg, feeling her heart rate rise, and shifted away.

“If Kieran had wanted you to know what he said to me, he wouldn’t have asked you to leave. What we discussed was private.”

“If I ask Kieran, he will tell me what you both said. He was trying to make you feel more comfortable by telling me to go, not hiding it from me,” Rhys said. She glared at him. “I will ask him. Don’t you think it’s better coming from you?”

She stood up abruptly, pretending that she had heard movement coming from the bed. Rhys let her go with a sigh. The woman was still sleeping, and did not stir when Jessa pressed against her wrist to check there was definitely still a pulse. Jessa pressed her lips together both in sadness and in frustration. She did not turn when Rhys spoke again.

“Please stop avoiding me, Jessa. Isn’t it best to get everything out in the open?”

Jessa bowed her head. “He told me that… whatever it is you’re trying to achieve by how you’ve been acting with me recently, you mean it.”

“I’ve tried to tell you that many times,” Rhys said drily. She heard him stand from the chair, but he did not come forward. “Did he say anything else?”

Jessa steeled herself and turned. Her gaze locked with his. “He asked me whether I wanted you to stop. I told him that that is what I want,” she lied. She kept her voice free of inflection; there was no way even someone trained to detect a lie could find one in her words. But Rhys was barely listening to her. He was staring into her eyes, searching for something, and then he turned serious. Quickly, knowing she would not want to hear whatever he had to say, Jessa twisted back to face Irina.

Rhys was suddenly there, the heat from his body warming her back. He was so close. She froze as his hand lifted and touched her upper arm. He trailed his fingers gently down her skin. Every part of her was focused on that one touch. Her breath caught in her throat, and though she tried to hide it she was sure it had not gone unnoticed. She had no idea what was happening, and it terrified her.

“Are you telling me that you don’t feel anything?” he murmured in her ear, leaning closer. His hand found hers and he spun her around. She ducked her head, refusing to look at him. Her heart pounded in her chest; there was no space between them so he could surely feel it. She exhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. She wanted to run away, but he held her firmly. With his other hand, he lifted her chin and locked their gazes. Gently, he said, “Jessa?”

“Let me go,” she whispered, her voice strained. Rhys shook his head, moving his hand from her chin to brush against her cheek. He tucked a lock of wayward hair behind her ear, bringing back the memories of their encounter in the library. But now, he was not drunk. He had a hangover, certainly, but his eyes were clear and focused. He… Jessa could not think. She gripped his hand, needing some grounding to reality. It took her a moment to realise that that could give Rhys the wrong idea. She straightened her fingers hastily.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked her quietly, suddenly looking less sure of himself. He appeared concerned, like he was considering that he might have pushed too far. Jessa could say with certainly that he had. But when she tried to speak, the words caught in her throat.

“I…”

His face was closer now. Their noses were inches from touching. She tried to tell herself to get away, but she stayed where she was. His gaze flickered between her eyes and her mouth. “Jessa, if you don’t stop me…”

A moan from behind them broke the hush that had fallen over them. Rhys’ grip slackened, though for a moment she was too bewildered to move. “Jessa?” Irina called weakly, finally prompting her into action. She twisted away from Rhys and sat on the bed beside the woman, putting as much distance between her and Rhys as she could.

“Are you okay?” she asked in concern. Irina looked around the room with wild eyes, befuddlement clouding them. Jessa took her hand and squeezed.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in my room. In Jasrah. Do you remember the beach?” Jessa prompted. Irina nodded slowly.

“I was looking for you…” she whispered unsurely, lifting a hand to her sweating head and frowning. “No, I… don’t know.”

“You sounded like you didn’t expect to see me on the beach. How could you have been looking for me?”

Irina frowned, and Jessa knew her questioning was not helping. She sighed and tried to smile comfortingly at the scholar. “It’s okay. You should just rest for now. We can try and figure out what is going on later. Just don’t think too hard.”

With a slow nod, Irina turned onto her side and closed her eyes. It did not take long for her to fall back into an uneasy sleep. Jessa’s smile tightened and she turned to face Rhys, who stood in front of her. She sighed in frustration and stood, slipping past him. He caught her hand on her way past, forcing her to turn.

“We will get to the bottom of this, Jessa.” He smiled at her reassuringly, and she could not help but smile back.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

When Irina eventually came around, conscious enough to stay awake for more than a minute, Rhys went about his work as Jessa spoke with the woman in private. They'd decided that Irina would be more receptive without an unfamiliar face, and if anyone could jog her memory it would be someone she already knew. Still, the wait was excruciating. Rhys had no reason to take interest in a woman he'd never met nor had any involvement with, but the mystery surrounding her gaps in memory sparked his interest. Jessa had suggested that she might have hit her head or taken some sort of physical damage that would explain the amnesia, but Rhys was not convinced. There was something about they way she came in and out of awareness, sometimes seeming as if she was right on the tip of something important, that made him think there were larger forces at work.

After an hour or so Jessa came by his study looking more concerned that she had when he'd left.

"None of it makes any sense," she began, taking a seat opposite Rhys' desk. "She knows who I am and where she should be but that's about as far as her consistency goes. Sometimes she'd remember writing me a note and other times she'd act as though she had done no such thing. Sometimes she would tell me that she'd had something important to tell me, and other times she'd go off on some unimportant tangent. The most frustrating part was that every time I thought I was getting close to a coherent answer she'd conveniently forget what we were talking about, asking me where she was. I questioned her for an hour and all I got was gibberish!"

Irina's case was unlike anything Rhys had ever seen, and it pained him to know that there was literally nothing he could say or do to make the situation any better. Jessa was just as bewildered by Irina's condition, though Rhys had hoped her studies would somehow produce some sort of answers. Apparently history was not an area that dealt very often with cases of amnesia.

"What do you think should be done?" Rhys asked.

"I don't know," Jessa sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "We can't keep her here forever, and if she stays much longer she'll attract attention. Besides, in her condition there's no promise that she'll stay quiet. I guess I'll try to move her to the university, to see if Alistar can somehow help her more than I can."

"I can occupy my family while you move her, if necessary," Rhys offered, feeling useless.

Jessa smiled in thanks. "That would be nice."

As the conversation dwindled, nothing more to be said on the matter, the tension grew, both knowing what was coming next. Rhys had been fixated on their exchange in Jessa's bedroom all afternoon, mentally kicking himself for his behavior. He had acted like a fool, and more importantly an ass. It was no wonder Jessa was so hesitant and unresponsive to his leads.

"Jessa, I need to apologize," he began. Part of him wanted to move to her but the logical part of his brain, the part he had called to attention for once in his life, told him to keep his seat. He would not, at least, ruin his apologies. That much he could manage.

"Rhys, I know - "

"Please just hear me out," he interrupted, already feeling worse. "I shouldn't have badgered you over Kieran - even if you were talking about me it still isn't my business. I shouldn't have pressed you so far when it was clear you were uncomfortable. I should have let you go when you told me too. It's inexcusable and I know that; I don't know why I acted the way I did.

"When I'm around you I forget to think. I get so swept up in the moment that my brain switches off and I... I stop being rational. All I knew is that I wanted to touch you and to be close to you and I didn't stop to think that that wasn't what you wanted. I've never had to try this hard before with anyone, not like how I try when I'm with you. You unhinge me." Once the words were out they kept coming, Rhys unable to stop his thoughts, knowing that if he tried he'd be unable to speak them again so clearly. Suddenly he laughed, hyper aware of his own idiocy. He had been so close to her and had only turned her off, and now sitting behind a desk he spilled his heart out. He got up from his seat, moving to lean on the front of the desk, still giving Jessa some distance. "I care about you Jessa. I want to be with you."

Rhys thought of how close they had been earlier, of how close Rhys had come to kissing Jessa. It had been all wrong, a horrible mess of a situation, and Rhys could not even be sure if Jessa would wish for such a thing despite his own feelings. Still, as he stared at her now, his eyes always drawing back to her hips, he felt the urge once again, more strongly than before.

He was unsure what sort of reaction to expect, not even confident that she would give a response at all. After all, it was in her nature to avoid such confrontations, and Rhys could not have put his intentions or feelings any plainer. Jessa was visibly shaken, anxiety plain on her face, but even so it was not clear whether she was merely uncomfortable or if she was conflicted. Rhys sincerely wished for the latter.

Unable to take the tension, Rhys moved towards the door. As he passed Jessa he stopped, hesitating before her. He reached one hand out to her, offering it instead of taking as he would have before. She regarded him with hesitation but did not draw away, intensely focused on his gaze. Rhys slowly took both of Jessa's hands in his, pulling them to his chest and holding them there.

"You don't need to give an answer, you just have to know. You can't pretend anymore, Jessa. If you feel nothing for me then..." Rhys swallowed, not wanting to think of that possibility, "but if you do..."

Before he could do anything rash, Rhys dropped Jessa's hands and left the room, needing something - anything - to occupy his mind.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa sat in the university, watching over Irina as she slept on Alistair’s cot. Since Alistair had taken a permanent position, he had moved to the scholar’s quarters. It was small and dull, a square room with a bed, a desk, a chair and a bookcase, just like the scholar’s quarters in the University of Ovis. Jessa hoped the room might trigger Irina’s memories, though she did not really believe it would have any effect. Irina’s amnesia was unlike anything she had ever known.

Currently, Alistair was in the library looking for answers. Jessa would have taken on the task but her head hurt and she could not stop thinking about… certain things long enough to focus on the research. So, instead, she sat on the chair, blankly watching the rise and fall of Irina’s chest beneath the blanket, seeing Rhys’ face instead. Jessa sighed and leaned back, staring at the plain ceiling. She wanted to scream.

You unhinge me. She closed her eyes, pushing his words from her head. She did not need them; they confused her and they could not possibly be true. Jessa just did not have that effect on anyone. All her life, her presence had inspired scorn and ridicule. She had been called boring more times that she cared to remember. Even Rhys had agreed with the description. His opinion could not have changed; she had done very little differently. She stopped for a moment, realising that that was perhaps not true. Like Rhys had promised, she had changed, at least in small ways. She had certainly learned to laugh like she never had done before, thanks to Rhys and their friends. She had shared concerns and thoughts with Rhys that she would not have considered giving to him – or anyone else, except occasionally Alistair – a few months ago. She would not have contemplated letting someone teach her self-defence by putting her in tight holds or throwing her to the ground if Rhys had not been her teacher. The one who had promised that he would not let others hurt her, that he was someone safe – for her, at least – living in a family of vipers.

It all came back to Rhys.

Jessa stood and went to the window, resting her head against the cool glass. She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. There was no denying her conclusion. Rhys had burrowed his way into her life, making himself basically necessary to her. She recalled the things he had done for her in the last couple of weeks, starting with saving her life. There were so many things, both little – teaching her to dance, she thought with a smile – to large – killing Cair and helping her with the aftermath of Merai’s son’s destruction. Now that she was thinking about it, Kieran’s letter had probably been placed with her notes by Rhys on purpose. He had taken an interest in her research and aided her with it in a way that no one but fellow scholars ever had. He had done it for, seemingly, nothing. That was not how she thought a Marinon acted.

“Jessa?” Alistair said gently, rousing her from her position against the window. She turned, seeing him standing in the doorway. He beckoned for her to come outside, glancing at Irina sympathetically. Alistair had overseen Irina’s early tutelage at the university just as he had done with Jessa. They had not become friends in the same way, but it was clear Alistair was incredibly worried. She smiled reassuringly as she sidled past him. Alistair shut the door and turned back to her apprehensively.

“Have you found anything?” she asked urgently. She deflated when Alistair shook his head. “Do you at least know if she’ll be okay?”

“She’s strong, but something is clearly very wrong. I think she’ll pull through, though she’ll never be the same and it will take time. Whatever happened to her, it happened pretty recently,” Alistair explained. He shrugged helplessly.

“It just seems so convenient, that she would forget writing the letter to me so soon after I found it,” she said, voicing her fear for the first time. Alistair grimaced. “I don’t think it’s a natural amnesia, Alistair.”

Alistair inhaled slowly. “I don’t want to be too hasty, and I certainly don’t want to put conspiracy theories in your head, but I am leaning towards agreeing with you. I am just at a loss as to who would have the power to remove someone’s memories. Or why.”

“Well, it’s going to be about the information they uncovered, if someone did target her. But, apart from the king, I cannot think of anyone who would not want that information released.”

Jessa sighed. There were too many things to think about these days. She wished for the simpler times in Ovis, where her research had been her life and there had been nothing else. Alistair seemed to notice the change in her mood. “I noticed something was not right with you when you came – and more than just your concern about Irina. Has something happened at home?”

“No, nothing,” she said shortly. Alistair gave her an unimpressed glare.

“Jessa, remember that I was your tutor before I was your friend. And as your teacher, I know exactly when you are lying to me.” Jessa frowned and pursed her lips. She felt exposed and crossed her arms across her chest. “Is something wrong? If you don’t feel safe there, then you can stay here with me. You shouldn’t even hesitate.”

“No,” she said, a slightly strangled laugh escaping from her lips. “No, I feel… well, safe is the wrong word, but no one is hurting me. I have grown used to life there. No, there is no problem in that respect.”

“Then in what?”

Jessa sighed, baffled that she was even contemplating discussing this with Alistair. Their relationship had certainly changed since they have relocated to Jasrah. Although Alistair had been the closest friend she had had, in Ovis they had still mostly kept their discussions to their work. Now, they talked about many more aspects of their life. She was glad of that, but this was much more delicate. She could not make sense of it in her own head. Perhaps she needed to talk it through with someone unconnected to Rhys.

“Rhys. He’s… treating me differently recently,” she said, trying to choose her words carefully. “And he’s...” She stopped abruptly, not daring to say it. Alistair looked confused. “I just don’t know what to think.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me exactly what is going on,” he said gently. He looked into her eyes, seeing the fear and the conflict within them. He sighed and nodded. “Though I think I can probably guess. Come, my child, I think we need to have a talk.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Rhys wandered aimlessly about the coast, simply needing to clear his head. Over and over he revisited his talks with Jessa, reliving every touch and every word exchanged. There was almost a certain level of obsession to his thoughts, a fact he wished he could ignore. No matter what Rhys tried to do to occupy his thoughts Jessa was constantly there, her face ingrained in his mind.

Jessa felt something for him, of that much Rhys was fairly certain. Whether her feelings were of the same magnitude as Rhys' were not as clear, but that was something that could not be changed by anything but time and circumstance. Still, Rhys' conviction in Jessa's interest gave him some hope to cling to. The way they would often lock eyes when looking at one another, the tension when they were close, the way Jessa's body reacted every time Rhys was near - these were not coincidences. Jessa was stubborn to a fault, but surely even she could not deny what Rhys had so easily seen. Then again, perhaps it was all wishful thinking on Rhys' part that she should be interested in him. All his worrying was beginning to hurt his head.

By the time Rhys returned home he was determined to find other tasks to occupy his thoughts, anything that would keep his sanity intact. It did not take long for Rhys to find his solution, for upon entering the entrance hall he was greeted immediately by his mother and Kieran, the latter with a very guilty expression on his face.

"Kieran, you didn't."

Kieran frowned but stood his ground, trying to rid himself of his guilt. "It's for the best, Rhys."

"Where's the woman?" Vyserene asked, staring expectantly at her son. Rhys threw another dark look at Kieran, wishing that for once his uncle could break his ridiculous sense of loyalty to his sister.

"It's not your concern, mother," said Rhys tersely.

Vyserene scoffed. "If someone is living in my house I think it's my concern."

"She's not here anymore," Rhys said. "We've moved her somewhere else. Really, mother, just let the issue go. We are more than capable of handling this."

"I'm sure," Vyserene gave a tight smile. "However, I'd still like to see her. From what little Kieran has told me I'd be rather interested in what's going on with her memory."

Rhys hesitated, suddenly not so confident in his resolve to keep Irina a secret. If his mother was already aware of her existence then lying was certainly not going to get him anywhere, and it was true that she could be of some use, given her knowledge, but it still felt wrong to give up the information.

"It's Jessa's concern, not mine," he affirmed. "It's not my place to say where she is."

"Honestly, Rhys!" Vyserene exclaimed, quickly losing her patience. "No one is going to do anything to this woman - what purpose would there be in that? I just want to see what is going on."

Though everything she said was true, for Irina was no threat of any kind to warrant action against her, Jessa had expressed a wish to keep her hidden and Rhys could not bring himself to betray that wish. He shook his head, standing his ground, and his mother threw her hands up in defeat with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine," she snapped. "Can you at least describe the symptoms of her memory loss at the very least?"

That much Rhys could do, for it felt silly to withhold such information if she was already aware of the memory lapse itself. As Rhys elaborated on the story, filling in the pieces Kieran had left out involving Jessa's long questioning of Irina and her constant in-and-out state of awareness, Vyserene's expression grew dark. She began nodding as Rhys relaid specific details, acting as if she expected every one of them before Rhys could even say them.

When Rhys finished his story his mother was silent for only one moment before giving her conclusion. "It's magic."

"What?" Rhys and Kieran answered in unison, giving each other quick bewildered looks.

"Someone with Greater Magic has tampered with her memory," Vyserene explained. "All the signs are there: moments of clarity followed by periods of confusion, well known things being forgotton, actions forgotten when directly addressed. Someone wants this woman to forget whatever it is very badly and there's no doubt in my mind that they used magic to achieve their ends. It's not a perfect job, but very few are. That's why the memory comes in and out in waves."

"What could a scholar know that would possibly be worth going through the trouble of erasing from memory?" Kieran asked, his eyes narrowed.

"You'd be surprised," said Vyserene. "History holds just as many secrets as the present, they're just easier to conceal if no one can remember them."

With nothing else left to interest her Vyserene took her leave. As soon as his mother was out of sight Rhys reached out and smacked Kieran lightly on the head. "Why did you have to tell her?"

"My sister always knows the answers to such things; I don't know how she does it, but she does. Besides, now we have our answer. Was it not worth it?"

Rhys could not argue Kieran's point but he still glared pointedly, wishing his uncle was a less honorable man. Kieran followed Rhys back to his study, occupying himself with a globe sitting in the corner as Rhys took a seat and began sorting through some papers with no particular task in mind. Though the Irina matter had distracted him momentarily his pile of paperwork was not doing him the same favor as all sorts of thoughts came back to mind. Kieran noticed Rhys' lack of attention, snapping before his face to bring him out of his daze.

"Thinking of a certain someone?" He asked casually, fingering the smooth surface of the globe.

"I fear I've been too forward and have moved too quickly, though by her insistance that I'm simply making my feelings up perhaps I haven't been forward enough," Rhys grumbled, setting aside his work. "Every time I try and approach her on the matter I become a mess and end up embarrassing or shaming myself in some manner."

"You could do that without talking to Jessa," Kieran quipped, earning him a dirty look.

"I've never had these sorts of problems before."

Kieran snorted. "I don't think you've ever been turned down. Let's be honest, Rhys. Would you have had near the luck with women that you've had - aside from Selene - were you not a Marinon? I'm not saying you're not an amiable young man, I'm just saying that the people of Jasrah have a bit of a different outlook on your family than do the rest of Etrene who largely regard you with disdain. Here you are the rulers, and whether feared or not that comes with a promise of luxury and power. Everywhere else, however, you're the mysterious family that scares even the King. Those aren't the sorts of qualities most women look for, to be fair."

Rhys cast his uncle a weary look. "You're saying I'm only liked because of my money and my title?"

"No, I'm just saying that sort of promise is hard to turn down for the local women who do not share the same sort of fear of your family." Kieran hesitated for a moment, perhaps organizing his thoughts before continuing. "But it's not just you, Rhys. Though I like to pretend as if I was unaware of her presence in Ovis I was not. Everyone knew of Jessa, she was just not often spoke of; the King's greatest mistake, so to say. I've seen how she was regarded, how she was talked about. There was very little love for Jessa in Ovis, and love is something that must be learned, not accepted. If you were an outcast in your own family, a burden thrown wayside, would that not affect how you viewed yourself? After enough times being told you are unwanted would you not start to believe it?"

Kieran had a very irritating knack for revealing the truth no one wanted to face, displaying a person's weaknesses for all to see. Rhys felt more like an ass than ever, feeling completely thick for not having seen the signs before.

"Give it time, Rhys," Kieran assured him, giving him a comforting pat on the back. "All things change with time. If you truly feel as strongly about Jessa as you say you do then you need to be the one to show her that it is not she who is unworthy of love, but rather her pernicious family that is incapable of being decent human beings."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Alistair listened in silence as Jessa divulged her story to him. He kept one eye on the sleeping Irina all the while, but Jessa had no doubt that he had heard and scrutinised every one of her words. When she finished, she shifted on the bed uneasily, careful not to jostle Irina. Alistair focused on her, his gaze probing.

“What do you think people see when they look at you?” he finally asked. Jessa shrugged and bowed her head. Alistair smiled wanly. “How about we both say what we think, and then compare?”

Jessa thought for a moment, then lifted her head and nodded. She hoped Alistair would start, but he waited patiently for her. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. Someone… someone who’s too obsessive about her work. Boring, useless, helpless, a poor teacher. The girl to bring shame to the king.”

Alistair frowned deeply, watching her with concern. He stood and brought his chair closer to her, taking her hand. He shook her head. His expression was pained. “Do you really think that it what people see? All they see?”

Jessa shrugged. It felt like she was back in the classroom again with Alistair berating her for making silly mistakes. She wanted to curl up and hide just as she had wanted to then. His gaze softened and he said, “If that is how you feel when anyone looks at you, then I, for starters, have been doing something very wrong.”

“You’re different,” she protested. “You’re the same as me. I mean, not exactly.” Her eyes widened as she realised what she had said. “You’re an excellent teacher and very interesting. But we both share the same interests. We are both obsessed with our work. You can hardly find me boring when you love it yourself.”

“But everyone else?” he said, releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair. “What about the friends you’ve made here?”

“They’re Rhys’ friends,” she mumbled, even though she knew that was not true. They were hers, too, and they were as pleased to see her as they were Rhys. She sighed. “Well, I’m the foreigner from Ovis. I lived in the king’s castle. I am interesting in that regard.”

“How often have they actually asked you about Ovis recently?”

Jessa did not answer, looking away in defeat. “That still doesn’t explain how Rhys can think that he feels what he says he does.”

“You deserve friendship and love as much as anyone else, Jessa. Why shouldn’t he feel that way for you? What is there about you that he should not like? I agree that you were more reserved in Ovis, but that was because you had no freedom to do as you wanted. You were held down at every opportunity. You’ve changed here, Jessa. You smile so much more, and a smile has the power to do so much.”

She shook her head. “We were forced to marry. He lost Selene because of me. He should despise me.”

“You were not the one to arrange the marriage, and you have no idea about this Selene. And feelings can change, Jessa. He saved your life. That is not the action of someone who has ever despised you.”

“I know he doesn’t,” she said, ducking her head. She fiddled with her dress, picking up the soft fabric and playing with a loose thread. “I can accept him viewing me as something like a friend. I… think of him the same. I just don’t understand how he could think anything more.”

“You are a very beautiful girl, Jessa, inside and out, whether you believe me or not. You are just like your mother in that respect.” She shook her head, refusing to believe it. Her mother had been much stronger than she was. Jessa could not have lived as she had. “Jessa. You are worth far more than the princesses and princes who ridiculed you. So much more.”

Jessa was on the verge of tears. Alistair clasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I think it is time you went home. You’re drained; it has been a long day. Get some rest, and I will watch over Irina.” He put a hand out to stop Jessa’s protest. “I will notify you if there are any changes.”

She sighed heavily, but nodded. It was true that she needed to get out of here, and to think. Irina was not going anywhere so staying here would help nothing. Jessa put on her coat and went to the door.

“Jessa,” Alistair said, sinking into his chair. She looked over her shoulder. “You are worthy of people’s affections. Please, just think about what I have said.”

Jessa nodded and left. She walked down the corridor and out of the university thinking about his words. She could not believe them, however. He was going to view her differently for her had known her many years and had seen her work ethic. He had helped mould her into who she was, and he was bound to be biased.

On the boat ride home, she watched the water ripple in the low sun. She sighed heavily and again wished for a simpler life. Jessa wanted to forget about everything she had been forced to consider in the last couple of days – everything except her research. She decided that, once she got home, she would lock herself in her room and throw herself into her work. There would be no stone left unturned.

The boat had clearly given away her arrival, for Rhys appeared in the doorway as soon as the boat docked. She disembarked with a growing sense of foreboding. Although she wished she could get inside without having to speak to him, she knew that was impossible. Jessa moved towards him and stopped a safe distance away. She was grateful that Rhys did not attempt to close the gap. When she looked at his face, he was calm and neutral. She had not seen him look at her like that in a while. She relaxed.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, walking towards and past him to enter the house. He fell into step beside her. She tensed for a moment, but he kept himself to himself.

“Kieran told my mother about Irina,” he said quietly. She spun around angrily. Rhys shook his head. “No, it is a good thing really. My mother has our answer. Someone used Greater Magic on Irina to make her forget her memories.”

Jessa balled her hands into fists and stalked away. Everything came back to that hated magic. Rhys hurried to catch up with her as she fumed. She climbed the stairs and headed for her bedroom. She did not want Rhys entering with her, so she stopped beside the door and leaned against the wall. Rhys watched her anxiously.

“Who with Greater Magic would care about what Irina knew?” she asked rhetorically. “I have to know what she discovered.”

Jessa was going to get to the bottom of this. Just before she entered her room, she looked over her shoulder and said, “Thank you for letting me know.”

Then, she disappeared inside and locked the door. No one would disturb her tonight. Her gaze fell on the rushed notes she had taken from the Marinons’ blood book. She supposed that, if anyone knew others with Greater Magic, it would be the Marinons. Jessa decided to start there.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

After a rather dull dinner that ended without Jessa making an appearance, Rhys wandered aimlessly through the halls of his home, keeping out of the way of the servants who went through the halls lighting the candelabras. Eventually Rhys found his way to the west wing, a part of the house Rhys rarely visited for it was where his father spent most of his time. As Rhys passed by his father's study a voice from within coughed, drawing his attention.

"In here, please," Lord Erik said, waving Rhys in from behind his desk. Rhys quietly groaned, having no interest in what his father had to say, but followed his command. "Shut the door."

"What is it?" Rhys asked, little to no inflection in his voice. He stood awkwardly across from the desk, not even bothering to take a seat. He did not plan on staying long.

"I have a task for you."

Rhys dreaded hearing such words. He rubbed at his temple, only imagining the sort of things he might be expected to do. Hopefully there would be little bloodshed involved, for Rhys was in no mood to act as vigilante. It had been quite some time since Rhys had been sent to do any of his father’s dirty work – Anja was usually more than happy to take on that task. Whether Anja was simply occupied or refused to act was unknown to Rhys, but he sincerely hoped it was the first.

“What can’t Anja do it?”

“Anja is leaving for Ovis with me tomorrow,” said Erik. He paused before continuing, waiting for Rhys to finish his sighing. “Lord Valeys has become a bit of a thorn in our side as of late, or so the saying goes.”

This information peaked Rhys’ interest. “Lord Valeys? Hasn’t he always been a loyal supporter?”
“More or less, yes. However, he seems to his rather unorthodox views on the position of the nobility are causing quite a stir. News of his views has managed to reach Ovis, and because of his position of confidence with us I don’t want the king getting the wrong idea about our position.”

“What are his views?” Rhys finally took a seat, realizing this would be a longer discussion than thought.

“For a Lord he doesn’t seem to be particularly sympathetic to our position.” Erik said scathingly. “He’s called for a reformation of the monarchy and nobility. He thinks the nobility has gained too much power, that we’ve become on oligarchy rather than a monarchy.”

“It’s not exactly a lie, is it?” Rhys shrugged, instantly regretting his words. His father’s face darkened as he narrowed his eyes.

“What is the truth and what are lies is not important – what is important is what the people believe. We may be powerful, Rhys, but an uprising of the people would be impossible to put down. We keep a strong hold on those who remain loyal to us for a reason.”

From his father’s perspective the situation was no longer quite as insignificant as Rhys had portrayed it. He straightened in his chair, very self-aware. “And have Lord Valeys thoughts gained any following?”

“Not particularly, no,” Erik conceded. “Suggesting cutting down on the powers of the nobility is not a very popular idea with the nobility. However, there are those that have voiced similar sentiments in the past, and with the right kindling this is an idea that could get very out of hand very quickly. Of course, such ideas can never be fully extinguished, but if we were to turn Lord Valeys back to our views it would certainly help our cause.”

There was much to think on, but Rhys knew there would be no time for thought. He sighed, preparing himself for the worst. “What am I to do?”

Erik smiled at his son, though it was a tight, almost forced smile containing no real joy. He opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a letter, handing it to Rhys. When Rhys only stared at the letter Erik sighed, motioning for him to open it. As Rhys broke the seal two small squares of parchment fell out, their surface covered in elaborate scrawl and stamping.

“The theatre?” Rhys asked, finding the papers to be invitations upon further inspection. He recognized the name of the theatre and the play but did not understand the purpose behind his father’s meaning.

“Lord Valeys is rather fond of the theatre. I happen to know this is his favorite play and have it on good authority he’ll be there. Strangely enough, I’m also fairly certain he’ll be in the same box as you.” Rhys snorted. There was no coincidence in that fact. “Have a little chat with our friend; convince him that there are better positions than the one he holds.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Rhys asked, though he was fairly sure he knew the answer.

His father only raised a single eyebrow, returning to the book before him with no more attention on Rhys. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

Before Rhys could make his exit a thought came to him as he looked down at the invitations held in his hand. “There’s two tickets here.”

“I can’t exactly have you going alone – that looks a bit suspicious. You’re supposed to blend in, and young single men don’t often frequent the theatre alone for noble reasons. Take someone - I don’t care whom. You seem rather fond of Jessa.” Rhys did not miss the dry tone of his father’s voice.

***

“Jessa?” Rhys called, knocking on the door to her room. There was no answer from inside, and Rhys wondered if she was purposefully avoiding him. He knocked again, calling her name several times, but still no answer came. He sighed, leaning back against the door. “I’m not here to bother you, Jessa, I just have a question for you.”

There was the sound of rustled papers from within, and in moments Jessa was at the door, a weary look on her face. She looked exhausted with dark circles stamped under her eyes and her hair in disarray. The room behind her was dark but for the faint glow of candlelight illuminating piles of papers and books, and Rhys wondered how long she’d been reading. Rhys wasted no time, withdrawing the invitations from his pocket and displaying them to Jessa. She took one and examined it, looking up in surprise.

“The theatre?”

“Would you like to accompany me tomorrow night?” Rhys asked, trying to keep as light a tone as possible. Jessa, however, did not seem to buy his forced pleasantry.

“Why are you going to the theatre? You’ve never shown any interest. What’s really going on?”

Rhys sighed, losing his motivation to keep his intentions secret. “You can’t just accept that I would want to take you to the theatre?” When Jessa raised an eyebrow Rhys gave up. “Fine, I’m doing business for my father and I need someone to accompany me. Apparently going alone is too suspicious, not that I don’t raise suspicion wherever I go as it is.”

“What kind of business?” Jessa asked hesitantly, obviously not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“I think you know the answer to that question. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I can always ask someone else.” Though Rhys said the words, he wasn’t entirely sure whom he could ask, but he didn’t think that was something important to mention. Jessa remained hesitant despite Rhys words, looking as if she was torn on the issue. “It wouldn’t mean anything,” Rhys assured her. “You might even enjoy it – well, most of it, anyway.” He tacked the last part onto the end, feeling that without it his assurance was more of a lie than a truth.

Eventually Jessa sighed and nodded, quickly shutting the door to her room before Rhys could even thank her.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa was absolutely sure she was going to hate her evening tomorrow, but she put it from her mind so she could focus on the words in front of her. After a few painstaking hours, she was beginning to work out the code in which the Marinons had written their book. There were still some words and phrases that she had not yet puzzled out, and they were the ones that were most necessary to understand the passages. Typical. Jessa could not say that she had not expected it, however.

She stared hard at the sentence at the top of the page, willing its secrets to become known to her. She had been sure that she had nearly cracked it before Rhys’ interruption. She sighed. After a short, stressful few minutes, her brain began working hard and she regained the near-clarity she had had before. A little while later, she gasped in happiness. A while ago she had ascertained that each couple of pages was a fact file on a great many families throughout the lands. Now, she knew that the book contained accounts of their allies and their rivals. Jessa flipped through the pages, writing each family’s affiliation to the Marinons onto the decoded sheets. Eventually, she had a complete list from the fifteen or so profiles she had managed to copy.

Jessa flicked through and determined where the remaining gaps were. Her gaze landed on the profile with the least amount of deciphered words. At closer glance, she realised it was Merai’s; she had never known her surname, so it had not caught her attention. Jessa decided that the coded passages could be talking about Merai’s magic. When she substituted Greater Magic for the words and read it in the rest of the sentence, it made sense. So this book also described the level of magic, if any, the Marinons knew their allies and foes to have. Jessa’s excitement grew. This was perfect. She knew she had not been wrong in her supposition that the best place to start looking for Irina’s attacker was in this book.

She filled in the details. Apart from Merai, there did not seem to be any families with Greater Magic, but the Marinons suspected their rivals – and in some cases their allies, ones they had labelled unsure – of cavorting with people who did possess it. Despite the law against it, it seemed like there were many people who had managed to hide their magic and keep their lives. That bothered Jessa, particularly as she had not even known this magic existed until recently. She could not help but think that, by concealing the law in an attempt to prevent people from discovering they had Greater Magic, it actually made it easier to survive.

Jessa considered writing to the king about it, but a second after the idea entered her head she dismissed it. Whoever had Greater Magic was not using it to cause widespread destruction as far as she could tell. She would not destabilise the king any further than he already was. She returned to her writing, then separated the profiles into three piles: one for people who had Greater Magic or probably knew someone who did; those who had lower levels of magic; and the families without any known magic of which to speak. Anyone could learn the very basics of magic, of course, but it was difficult and if someone did not exhibit early proficiency, people were inclined to give it up entirely. Therefore, that pile was the largest. She put the pile in her bottom drawer for safe-keeping. Then, she bound together the remaining families’ profiles and hid the sheets in the top drawer of her desk.

Jessa went to start a fire burning in the grate. It was beginning to get cold in her room since it was probably close to midnight. She also wanted to burn her original copies of the blood book; it would be unwise to leave everything for someone to stumble upon. Then, she heaved the book Rhys had given her on his family history and settled on her bed to read. Her eyes were tired, but she would not rest until she found something, however small.

***

Jessa awoke with the heavy weight of the book pressing down on her chest. She groaned and pushed it off her groggily, turning away from the glare of the sun through her window. Jessa had not drawn her curtains the night before, nor stopped reading before she had fallen asleep. She had not expected to sleep that night, too focused on uncovering the truth. In her eyes, a few hours was far worse than avoiding sleep, and she was certainly feeling that now. It felt awful, sleeping in her day clothes, and she really did not want to move even though she must. She needed to get to the university as soon as possible.

Jessa was grateful that no one was there to see her at breakfast, save the servants who remained impassive. She ate quickly and left before she was sure anyone else in the house had stirred. Oddly, the boat was gone from the dock when she got outside. Deciding it would be quicker walking than waiting for its return, Jessa headed for the beach.

She reached Jasrah’s port far later than she had wanted, which meant she had to wait for a boat which would be leaving for the island on which the university stood. Jessa sighed and leaned against a post, waiting for the boatman to arrive.

Alistair seemed surprised to see her when she got to the university thirty minutes later. He shook his head and then frowned when he took a closer look at her. “Did you sleep?”

She nodded. When he looked at her disbelievingly, she threw up her hands. “Yes, I did,” she said in exasperation.

“For how long?” Alistair asked shrewdly. She sighed and pursed her lips. “I thought so.”

“I could hardly sleep when I need to find out what is going on.” She paused and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I found out what is wrong with Irina. Someone cast a spell on her. It’s the same magic Merai has.”

Alistair’s frown deepened. After Cair, she had obviously shared everything she knew about Greater Magic with him, but there was a lot that Cair’s book had not told her. It had never mentioned memory loss magic. It was terrifying, trying to defend oneself against a force she barely knew. Jessa shivered.

“I suppose there shall be no cure, then,” Alistair said sadly. “She is unlikely to break from it unless the mage wishes it.”

He led her to his room. Irina had awakened, as was sat in the bed. She looked a little disoriented and confused. Alistair leaned close. “Don’t question her on anything she says.”

“I know that,” Jessa whispered back. “As soon as I tried to get her to focus on anything she said yesterday she forgot about it. If she’s going to say anything, I’ll stay silent.”

Jessa sat with Irina for a while. The woman said very little of consequence. She looked much more settled today, and Jessa was glad she had made the right choice in bringing her to the university. Irina thought she was in Ovis, but that was okay if it gave her comfort. Jessa was not about to start worrying in case she lost her composure and they wasted another day.

Alistair soon arrived and pulled her away. “You are dead on your feet. There is a spare room down the hallway, and I’ve asked if you can use it. I’ve made sure there’s nothing in there to distract you. Go and sleep.”

Jessa wanted to protest, but Alistair’s expression brooked no argument. She sighed. Alistair was right, however, for nearly the moment her head hit the scratchy pillow she fell asleep, uncaring that the cot was not as soft as the bed she had grown used to at home.

When she awoke, she saw the gloominess of dusk through the window and felt uneasy. It took her a little while to remember why. She had promised to go to the theatre. Jessa scrambled from the bed, getting caught up in the sheets. She pulled on her shoes and rushed out of the door, asking a nearby scholar for the time. Jessa sighed in relief; she was not late. But she would have to hurry to make it home.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

It was nearing the time to leave and Rhys had not seen Jessa all day. He’d begun to pace about the foyer, occasionally looking anxiously up the stairs in hopes that she might appear. Then again, on one hand he’d realized he’d rather not have her come at all. Unsure of exactly what lengths he might have to go to force Lord Valeys’ hand, Rhys did not wish for Jessa to see anything that might portray him in a less favorable light. His reasoning was flawed, that he could recognize, for hiding his actions from Jessa forever when they were so highly publicized would not only be deceptive but impossible, yet Rhys couldn’t bear the thought of being despised. Never before had he felt guilty of his family’s associations or actions, but Jessa had a strange way of making Rhys feel differently about everything.

The creaking of the front doors captured Rhys’ attention. Jessa hurried into the house, her red hair a tangled mess and her dress wrinkled beyond hope.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, hurrying up the stairs. “Give me just a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”

Despite the constraint on time Rhys couldn’t help but chuckle. He found a servant tending to the dinner and ordered him to fetch Jessa’s lady’s maid, hoping to speed up the process.

“No, I’m fine, really,” Jessa protested, leaning over the bannister down at Rhys.

“Jessa, you’re dressed like a commoner and we have twenty minutes until we need to leave. You don’t need to be so self-sufficient all the time; we have servants for a reason.”

Realizing the time crunch Jessa gave reluctant agreement, disappearing down the hallway soon to be followed by a frantic looking maid. Exactly twenty minutes later Jessa appeared at the top of the staircase and Rhys’ jaw slackened as he watched her descend. She looked positively regal in a long navy satin gown that trailed slightly behind her. It hung off her shoulders, revealing more skin than Rhys had ever known Jessa to show, and a sapphire necklace laid delicately against her neck. Her copper hair was pulled up into some sort of fashion that was too complicated for Rhys to understand, pearl beads keeping it in place. Rhys realized a bit too late that he had been staring rather conspicuously and Jessa looked about herself awkwardly, hugging her arms around her chest.

“I didn’t want to wear this but my maid refused to let me wear anything else; she even forced me into a corset,” she grumbled, looking up towards her room with narrowed eyes. “She said all my choices were too ‘common’ for such an event. I didn’t realize the theatre was as elegant as a ball.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Rhys, trying to remind himself to keep his eyes up. “Jasrans are very serious about their arts. The theatre is more or less a place for high society to flaunt themselves than to actually view any sort of entertainment.” Rhys coughed lightly, trying to compose himself, as he felt suddenly very sheepish. “There’s no reason for you to feel uncomfortable; you look absolutely breathtaking.”

It was most likely impossible for Jessa to blush any brighter than she did. Eventually she uncrossed her arms and placed them at her sides with some discomfort, trying to put on a face of pseudo-confidence. Rhys put on a smile and took Jessa’s arm, walking them both out to the boat that waited for them outside.

When they docked in Jasrah a carriage awaited them, the driver immediately jumping to action upon seeing Rhys. The walk to the theatre would not have been long at all, a fact Jessa was quick to point out, but Rhys only shook his head.

“Like I said, the point is to be seen,” Rhys explained, pointing out the window at another carriage that passed by. “It may be petty and vain but that’s how things are. The rich never seem to grow tired of flaunting their wealth, no matter how silly they appear.” Jessa mumbled something about the pot calling the kettle black under her breath and Rhys only smirked, putting a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing.

They were one of the last to arrive at the theatre though many people still milled about the outside. As Rhys helped Jessa down from the carriage and took her arm a number of eyes fell on them, whispers circulating throughout the steps leading to the theatre. Jessa held on tightly to Rhys’ arm, looking as if she wished to be invisible. Rhys set one hand on Jessa’s, trying to sooth her worries. “No one here can look down on you,” Rhys whispered into Jessa’s ear, trying to appear neutral to the onlookers. “You are more powerful than any of them.”

In an attempt to calm Jessa’s nerves Rhys straightened and headed straight for the doors, ignoring those who looked on in awe and speculation. He nodded to a few Lords and Ladies he recognized but besides that let himself briefly revel in the excitement his presence brought. He was not one to be vain and stuck up, but even he could not deny the rush that came with bringing a room to a hush with simply ones presence.

Eventually they made their way through the theatre to their box, the stares dwindling down as early everyone had already seen them. Jessa took her seat with surprise still wide in her eyes, looking positively blown away. Soon enough she realized that the box offered a certain sense of privacy and she began to relax, using her time to spy down on the viewers below. Just before the play was about to begin Lord Valeys made his entrance, stopping at the door with a start.

“Lord Rhys,” he bowed, clearly unnerved at Rhys’ presence. “I did not realize I would have company.”

Rhys gave a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat to his left. “Yes, well there were simply no other free boxes and I figured you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Of course not,” Valeys stuttered, though it was fairly obvious that he minded very much. He took his seat with some uneasiness, throwing Rhys anxious looks from the corner of his eye every few moments. Jessa too looked uneasy but Rhys feared there was nothing to be done about that. He only hoped she would engross herself in the play and pay little attention to Rhys’ business.

Shortly after Valeys’ entrance the curtains were drawn and the voices grew silent, all eyes turning to the stage as the players appeared. Rhys was somewhat dismayed that he had to come under such unpleasant circumstances because the play was one of his favorites, but Rhys could only half pay attention, too focused on planning out his words. Once Jessa seemed througouly sidetracked, her eyes glued to the stage, Rhys leaned over to Valeys.

“It’s fitting, is it not?” He whispered, keeping his eyes forward as he spoke.

“Is what fitting, my Lord?” Valeys answered. Rhys could hear the man swallow and could practically sense the fear that began to creep to the surface.

“That you should be watching a play about treason, given your current state.”

A long pause followed Rhys’ words; a pause filled with nothing shallow breaths. “I don’t know what you mean,” Valeys said finally, his voice shaking.

“Hmm, somehow I think you do. Does the word ‘betrayal’ ring any bells, Lord Valeys? Something tells me you’re rather well versed in the term.”

“Honestly, I have no idea what you’re referring to. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to return to my viewing, my Lord.”

Before Valeys could get in another word Rhys withdrew a small knife, pressing it indiscreetly against Valeys’ side. “And how about now? Feeling any more free with your words?”

The man gasped and Jessa turned slightly, drawn away from the play by the noise. Rhys gave a tight smile, his knife concealed enough that Jessa could not see though her expression told him she was more than suspicious of his actions. With hesitance Jessa turned back to the play, Rhys relaxing slightly as her face looked away.

“You have to understand, my Lord, I’m in a very difficult situation,” Valeys breathed, his voice losing its neutrality.
“Difficult enough to threaten revolution, to betray your own kind? What sort of noble is against a noble’s station?” Rhys tightened his grip on his dagger, pressing it a bit closer. He had no intention to actually hurt Valeys but it was important that the man did not know that. “What sort of benefit would you get from revolution?”

“Please, my Lord,” Valeys was frantic now, trying to shy away from the knife without actually getting up from his chair. “You don’t understand.”

“Perhaps you could enlighten me.” Rhys pressed the very tip of the knife into Valeys’ abdomen, just barely cutting his doublet. It was enough to frighten the man into submission, which was all Rhys needed.

“I’m in terrible debt,” he whispered urgently, his voice cracking. “And the King is displeased with me. I’ve gone back on my word a few times – only through necessity, I assure you – but I fear I might be stripped of my title.”

“So you turn on your country? Bravo, you truly are a coward,” Rhys spat, feeling less and less sympathy for the sniveling mess beside him.

“No!” Valeys squeaked. “That’s not all. You can’t truly believe that King Alrick has been a just or good king, can you? The nobles all speak about it behind closed doors, though no one would say anything at court. The king is paranoid and estranged; his actions have grown more extreme as the years go on. Something needs to be done before Etrene is run into the ground.”

This was nothing Rhys had not heard before, though it was the first time it had been admitted so openly. “You realize what you say is treason.”

Rhys could see Valeys nod from the corner of his eye. “Yes, but I am not who started this all. There’s been talk from the south for ages, whispers of uprising that circulated through the years.”

“The south?” Rhys interjected. He drew back his dagger slightly, hearing Valeys give a sigh of relief. “Do you mean Novamor? Why would anyone in Novamor care about our king? They’re a significant power of their own; they’ve never cared before.”

“I don’t know all the specifics, my Lord, only rumors and word of mouth. All I know is that there’s been a cry for the King’s head for years, but I couldn’t tell you from who it’s from. I know very few people in Novamor, I can prove to you – “

“Shut up,” Rhys said, tired of the man’s babbling. He sheathed his dagger, and leaned away from the man, and Rhys was sure that had Valeys not already been sitting he would have collapsed with relief. “I do not particularly care about your beliefs or your views but there are those that would kill you for it. I suggest you reevaluate your choices. If I catch word of you spreading this information around to anyone or participating in any treasonous activity related to the destruction of the monarchy or nobility I promise you that you will wake up in a pool of your own blood. Are we understood?”

Valeys gripped at his armrests, his face pale even in the darkness. He nodded quickly, avoiding Rhys stare. Rhys nodded in return, sitting back in his chair and hoping to at least somewhat enjoy the rest of the performance, though with thoughts of Novamor swirling around in his head he very much doubted it.