Kings of Deceit - R

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa’s blood ran cold at Rhys’ threat. Even though she had tried to focus on the play, she had heard virtually all of their conversation. Until that point, she had been very intrigued. All signs seemed to point towards Novamor being important. But now, her thoughts were consumed by the image of Rhys standing above Lord Valeys, bloodied dagger in his hand. She shivered and felt sick. How someone that could treat her so gently – if rather forwardly and unthinkingly at times – could murder and torture people like the blink of an eye she could not understand. It was so hard to remember what Rhys was when it was just the two of them. Every so often she would be reminded and she did not know how to deal with it, or how she could deal with the fact that she considered this man a friend.

She forced herself to remain in her seat until the interval. As soon as the curtains closed, she stood and muttered a vague excuse in Rhys’ direction. She hurried out of the box and down the stairs, keeping her head down and her arms around her chest. A few people watched her curiously but she ignored them, making her way to the entrance to the theatre.

The brisk night air cooled her burning cheeks. She sat down heavily on the top step, looking out at the darkened, deserted plaza the theatre overlooked. The attendant at the door asked if she was okay but she waved him away. Jessa brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin upon them, gasping as the corset seemed to tighten about her stomach. She did not think she could go back inside, sit next to Rhys, and pretend nothing had happened. Something had definitely frightened Valeys, long before the threat, and Jessa could not feign ignorance – not even for a play that, until then, she had been rather enjoying.

“The play is about to start, my Lady. You should think about returning,” the attendant said, unsure if he should be bothering her. She nodded but did not move. After a brief pause, in which he looked incredibly confused, the attendant turned away. When she heard the sounds of the play, she stood. Instead of heading inside, she went down the steps and wandered towards the grassy area in the centre of the square. She hoped that, if Rhys were to come looking for her, he would not find her.

She did not move quickly enough. Rhys had clearly realised she was not coming back. “Jessa!” he called. She did not turn, instead pulling off her heeled shoes so she could walk faster. “Jessa, please.”

Jessa shook her head, though he would not have seen the gesture for the shadows. She heard his footsteps draw near and she ducked behind a statue of some long-dead warrior riding a horse. Unfortunately for her, Rhys had seen her direction and found her within moments. She glanced at him briefly and then averted her gaze. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rhys sighed. “I cannot change who I am, Jessa. And I cannot disobey my father’s wishes.”

She shook her head in disgust. “I’m sure your father told you to threaten to kill him. I’m sure that wasn’t what you chose to say at all.”

Rhys looked down for a moment, but when he returned his gaze his expression was resolved. “My father wanted me to go to any lengths to ensure Valeys changed his mind. And if that did not work, he would have wanted me to kill him right there.” Jessa was shocked at Rhys’ directness, though she knew it all to be true. Never before had he spoken so candidly of his family’s way of doing things. She wished he would stop, but he did not. “I can’t feel sorry for what I did, Jessa. And I don’t. I am sorry that you were there to see it, but perhaps it needed to happen. This way you cannot ignore this part of my life because you don’t like it.”

She ducked her head. “You act like two different people,” she finally said quietly, though her voice trembled. “How can I – or anyone else – ever trust you? How can I know which person I’m speaking to? What happens if, one day, I’m on the receiving end of a conversation like that?”

“That won’t happen,” he said, though she knew he could not really promise anything like that. “And you can trust me because everything I say to you is the truth. I’m not hiding anything from you, Jessa. Nothing you need to know, anyway.”

“Nothing you’ve decided I need to know,” she corrected harshly. Jessa looked up, pinning Rhys with her eyes. “What are you going to do about Lord Valeys?”

“Nothing, as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. I’m not interested in unnecessary violence, surely you know that of me.”

Jessa did not really know if she knew anything of Rhys. Every time she thought she was beginning to understand something about him, something else would remind her that she had not even scratched the surface. He knew so much more about her; she felt exposed and she hated it. “I won’t be party to it. If you’re ever doing anything like this again, you will not invite me. Not for any reason. I know I agreed this time, but it was a mistake.”

Rhys bowed his head, conceding to her request. Jessa pushed herself away from the statue, still keeping a good distance between her and Rhys. As soon as she was standing, she folded her arms across her chest again, both to hide herself and for warmth against the cold.

“I shouldn’t have expected anything different. I suppose I… had begun letting my guard down,” she admitted, though it practically pained her to say it. Rhys stared at her as if he could not believe her words. She looked away. “I won’t do that again.”

She bit her lip, wanting to ask him a question but knowing she was not going to like the answer. She had to know; she had to be prepared. Jessa inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “If your father ordered you to kill me, would you do it?”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Jessa's words stung more than any blow could have, more than any thing Rhys had ever faced. Two opposing emotions faced him at once, only adding to his grief. He felt immense anger, frustration that Jessa could believe him to be so cruel and unfeeling, and she could see him no more favorably than she viewed Anja. Fighting this emotion was intense guilt that he could have acted in such a way to make Jessa possibly fear for her life on his account.

"How could you think such a thing?" He gasped, trying to find his words. "Of course I wouldn't. Jessa, I would never, ever hurt you, much less kill you."

"But you've already hurt me," Jessa said quietly. Before Rhys could protest she put up a hand to stop him. "Not physically, but emotionally. What about this? Do you think this display tonight had no effect on me? What about when you revelled in letting me know that I was responsible for a man's death. Do you not think that hurt me?"

What tore at Rhys more than anything was that he could not argue with Jessa's words. Everything she said was completely true, no matter how heartless it framed him. He'd nearly forgotten about the event with the man in Ovis months ago, the memory becoming just one of many, but now that it returned to the forefront of his mind Rhys wished more than anything that he could take that one action back. It was, without a doubt, his greatest regret, for not only had he hurt Jessa but he had in fact taken pleasure in it at the time. There was nothing Rhys could do to make that memory any less painful, but maybe it was best that way. Rhys had been raised to feel no guilt, to live without remorse, and he realized in that moment that this was perhaps the first time in his life he had ever truly felt remorse on such a base level. And it hurt.

The Marinons were vicious and ruthless, Rhys made no attempts to disillusion himself when it came to that, but for someone raised into that sort of environment it had very little effect on him. But for someone like Jessa, raised in complete opposition to everything Rhys knew, his family was poisonous. He felt no guilt for this, for it was not his fault that Jessa had been thrown to the lions, but he could sympathize with her position. Though Rhys could not say with honesty that he wished he had not married Jessa, for she had already changed him in ways he barely understood, he could not ignore that her life might be better had she have never met him.

"I may obey my father's wishes but I am not blind in my actions. There are things I have refused to do in the past, things you could never imagine, that I have been punished for refusing. But the point is that I am self aware and no matter what you think I have boundaries I would never cross, not for anything." Rhys swallowed, breathing steadily to fight back the threat of tears. "Jessa, I would kill myself before I even though of killing you."

Before Rhys could let his emotions break free he turned away, making his way back into the theatre. Instead of returning to his box he slipped through an unlocked door, finding himself inside an empty room of unknown use. Jessa’s one simple question had affected him in unimaginable ways. He had lived his entire life with carefully guarded emotions, so controlled and calculated that only in extreme situations did they ever slip without his consent. Yet ever since Jessa's arrival that wall had begun to chip away, leaving him with an unstable barrier ready to tumble at any moment, and such instability scared Rhys more than anything else. The prospect of not having control over something as basic as his own emotions was a terrifying idea, something that defied everything he had ever been taught. But in that moment Rhys managed to force it all away into the recesses of his mind, left with nothing but emptiness as he stared at the wall.

Though Rhys had hoped to escape the theatre before the audience was let out, not wanting to face the hordes of people certain to be fixated on him, he did not realize he'd been unresponsive for so long until voices from the hall brought him to the present. Rhys stood up from his spot, brushing off his clothes and wiping at his face though there was nothing to wipe away. He stood tall and set his face before opening the door and making his way through the crowd. No one paid him any more attention than usual, and without Jessa by his side there were significantly less whispers. A Lady attempted to stop and chat with Rhys but he brushed her off, making a bee line for the carriage. When he found the carriage Jessa was already inside, her head turned out the window, giving no reaction to Rhys' entrance. They rode in absolute silence, Rhys staring straight forward and Jessa turned to the side. As they exited the carriage to board the boat, Jessa took one quick look at Rhys, and in that one look he was almost certain he saw surprise on her face, most likely at the emptiness he knew to be in all his features.

Jessa disappeared into the house the moment they returned to solid ground. Rhys wandered aimlessly in through the doors, neither wanting to return to his room and sleep nor wanting to speak with anyone at all. Unfortunately his wishes were not met, for he’d not been in the house more than a few seconds when Rhys’ father appeared from behind a pillar, approaching Rhys.

“Did you deal with Lord Valeys?” He asked.

Rhys nodded slowly, too mentally exhausted to say anything else. His father seemed to take the hint, nodding in approval before leaving Rhys to his business. Eventually Rhys made his way to a sitting room, collapsing onto a chair before an unlit fire. A servant immediately tended to the issue, lighting the fire in a manner of moments by use of magic. Rhys thanked him dully, staring into the flames with dead eyes. He did not feel guilt for his actions, of that much he was sure. Whether he had been in the wrong or right was irrelevant, for he did not regret his threats, no matter how empty or backed they were. He had done what was necessary to uphold his family’s position, just as he had done his entire life. Of all the cards he could have been dealt in life, Rhys had been dealt a near perfect hand, and for that he could find no complaint. Yet despite reason, one small voice in the back of Rhys’ mind could not help but wish he had been born into a different family.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Despite sleep, Jessa was exhausted the following morning. She sat at breakfast listlessly buttering some bread. Dima sat at the other end of the table, and she could hear him casually flirting with the serving girl. The girl showed no emotion and retreated from the table as quickly as she could. Jessa’s disgust with Dima grew, but she was too tired to argue with him. Anything she said would fall on deaf ears anyway, she had now realised. She had no hope of changing any of the Marinon family members’ ways.

Rhys wandered in a short while later. Jessa was taken aback by how dishevelled and awful he looked. He looked worse than she felt. Dima, seeing only his messy hair, said snidely, “Get some action last night, Rhys? Did Selene come over?”

Rhys glared daggers at his brother, sitting in her usual seat opposite Jessa. He did not dignify Dima with any other response. Jessa watched Rhys, concern niggling at her even as she tried to stamp it down, as he prepared his breakfast slowly. He glanced up at her briefly, and she quickly broke the gaze, focusing on her half-eaten bread.

There was a strange stirring in her stomach as she tried to continue eating. The bread tasted like ash in her mouth, and she soon sat back with a sigh. She realised what the feeling was: guilt. She did not feel guilty for her anger at Rhys. She was still fearful for Lord Valeys’ life and she still did not approve of Rhys’ approach. Yet, she could see the effect her question had had on him. At the time, she had been too emotional to think about it. Now, in the stark light of day, she realised that she had suspected the answer to the question before she had asked it. She could see that she had lashed out at him, wanting to hurt him like he hurt others. She wanted him to feel pain, and she knew that she had the power to do that. She had used his feelings for her against him.

Jessa lifted her gaze, waiting for him to realise he was being watched. When he looked up, she tilted her head to the door and widened her eyes pointedly. It took a moment for it to register, but then he nodded slightly. Jessa gave him a tight smile and left the room. She waited just beyond the door for Rhys to appear. When he did, there was an odd blend of intrigue, fatigue and defeat on his face. Jessa gestured for him to follow her, leading him to the front sitting room. She closed the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, before Rhys could speak. “I don’t agree with anything you did yesterday, but my question was uncalled for.” He looked surprised at her admission, jolted from the stupor he had been in.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Yes, I do. I don’t take back anything else I said yesterday, but I wish I could undo that one moment.”

Rhys shrugged. Jessa ducked her head and moved into the room, sitting in a chair by the window and looking out. There were very few boats on the ocean to distract her from Rhys’ unresponsiveness. Eventually, he said, “You said nothing I did not deserve, not really. And no matter how much I wish I had not hurt you, both in the past and recently, I know I have. You can’t know how sorry am I for that.”

Jessa nodded tersely. She did not speak for a while, and she presumed Rhys had left. When she turned, he was still there and watching her as if she was a frightened animal whose next action he could not predict: fight or flight. Jessa examined him, wondering again how someone who could be so calm and so loyal to his friends could break someone’s neck or stab them without a second thought.

“I don’t understand you,” she whispered. Rhys frowned and came closer, taking the seat next to her.

“And I don’t really understand much about you. We’re both in the same boat in that regard.”

Jessa smiled thinly, then bit her lip. “I know that I don’t want to be around you when you’re doing anything for your family, but…” She cleared her throat and looked away. “I guess I need to know what it is about you that makes you want to do the things you do. I could not even contemplate it. How can your natural response to someone who has betrayed to be to torture or kill?”

Rhys opened his mouth, perhaps to respond, but she stopped him. “No, I’m not ready to hear it now. And I’m needed at the university. I fell asleep yesterday and did not get to share anything I discovered with Alistair. But Rhys…?”

He watched her with trepidation as she stood up and walked to the door. “If you have time today, could you try to find out something about the Arcius family of Novamor? All my research is point to Novamor, and that letter – thank you for that, by the way – makes me think they have something to do with all of this.”

Rhys nodded with a frown. She smiled, and before she could talk herself out of it, she added, “If you find anything, and you are able to, you could come to the library. I’m sure Alistair would like to hear it as well. Another brain working on it is better than just my own, after all.”

She left the room and shut the door. Jessa leaned against it and exhaled heavily, surprised she had managed to keep her emotions in check. There was still a lot of anger and suspicion in her heart where Rhys was concerned, and she was proud that she had managed to keep it together. Rhys had access to documents she could not touch; it would be unwise to spurn him, even if part of her never wanted to speak to him again. Jessa realised that she had changed so much from the girl who had hidden and cried at the mention of the Marinons’ violence. She was not sure if it was a good thing, but it was definitely beneficial to her sanity.

Jessa pushed herself away from the door, slipped on her shoes, buttoned up her coat, and left for the university.

Alistair was in his room with Irina when she got there. The woman looked less confused today, and was speaking to Alistair calmly and happily. Jessa watched them from the doorway until Alistair realised she was there. He squeezed Irina’s hand gently and then followed Jessa out of the door. “Because you let me sleep all day, I did not have time to tell you what I learnt two days ago. Do you have time today?”

“Of course,” he said, shutting the door in case Irina would overhear them. He appraised her. “Did something happen last night? You look dreadful.”

“Yes, but I would really rather not talk about it. I’d rather hear what you think about magic, and Novamor.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Though still largely drained from the previous night, Jessa’s words did give Rhys a little life. No words could comfort him or take away the pain of his remorse, and no unnecessary apologies on Jessa’s part would give him relief, but the lessened tensions was like a weight lifted off his chest. Shortly after Jessa departed Rhys headed to the library to take up on Jessa’s request. There was not much research for Rhys to do, for his family being so close to the Arcius’ meant that he was already well versed in their history, but he figured brushing up on what information they had documented on the family couldn’t hurt.

His first source was a massive volume on all the major noble families in the continent, a book so large Rhys had trouble removing it from the shelf. It was hard to imagine there were so many noteworthy families in all the world, much less in one area. Rhys flipped through quickly, stopping only momentarily to scan through the pages on his own family, finding himself laughing at some of the outdated and watered down information that presented them in a better light than word of mouth ever had. When he came across the section on Novamor the Arcius’ were the first family listed, and Rhys was dismayed to see that there was little written for such a long standing noble line. Unsure exactly what he was looking for, Rhys brushed up on their beginnings. Back when the continent was more or less unified, long before distinct countries began to fraction off, the Arcius’ had been a prominent power. For sometime they had been part of the ruling class, oscillating their power back and forth with nobles now tied to Barichea and Antascia. They were of the first families to establish the country of Novamor, though they never ruled as monarchs. This was all information Rhys was well versed in, nothing he had not been drilled in from a young age, but the gap in information from the Barichean Wars onward always gave him pause. Information filled in once again a hundred years or so after the end of the wars, but that century long gap was always a source of wonder to Rhys.

Finding nothing of interest in that book Rhys moved it to the side, his thoughts wandering to the blood book locked away. He knew that book up and down, for he himself had written many of its pages, but the Arcius’ had never one of his families of interest. Rhys dismissed the lone servant who occupied the room before going to the drawer where the book was locked away. As he opened the drawer he paused, looking in at nothing but a few stray pieces of parchment. He moved around the paper as if somehow the large volume could be hiding beneath something so thin, but there was no book in sight. Before Rhys could worry himself he forced himself to remember that all of his family had access to the book; it was very likely someone had temporarily removed it for personal use. Even with that assurance Rhys couldn’t help but feel some worry, for it was uncommon for anyone to remove the book from the room. His mind briefly flittered to Jessa, but he shook off such an absurd idea. Jessa did not know of the book to start off, and then there would be no way for her to get into the drawer without a key. Such a possibility was ludicrous.

With nothing left to do Rhys decided to head to the university as Jessa had asked. Before leaving he forced himself to clean up, washing his face, combing out his hair, and putting on presentable clothes, though there was nothing that could be done about the dark circles under his eyes or his general look of frazzled exhaustion.

As the small boat neared the university half an hour later Rhys realized that he had not been to the university in years, not since he had spent some time on his studies years ago. Though most of Rhys’ education had been private, taught with countless tutors and small group lessons with Anja, Rhys had spent a few years frequenting the university in order to refine his languages. It felt strange to be back at a place he had not set foot in in years, especially since Rhys had never felt completely comfortable in academic settings. The scholars and students who walked the halls or milled about in the courtyard stared in shock at Rhys’ presence, some bowing as he passed, others gaping openly. Eventually Rhys came upon a man he recognized, though he could not quite remember how he knew him.

“Excuse me,” he said, approaching the man. The scholar dropped into a bow, pulling off his hat and gripping it tightly in his hands. “Do you happen to know where I might find Jessa or Alistair?”

The man gave hurried directions, though his directions came in the form of points and arm movements rather than actual words. Despite being confusing in nature, Rhys found the offices the man spoke of rather easily, stopping just outside the propped open door. Just before he knocked on the door Rhys stopped himself, taking interest in the scene within. Jessa and Alistair sat side by side at a table in the small office that seemed to double as a personal library. A book was open between them, Jessa pointing at some passage and speaking animatedly. Alistair said something Rhys couldn’t hear and Jessa smiled, responding with animation. Rhys couldn’t help but smile, noticing how at ease Jessa seemed, how she looked more calm and comfortable than she had ever seemed at home. He almost didn’t want to disturb her peace, but in the end necessity won out and Rhys rapped on the door.

“Rhys!” Jessa said with some surprise upon turning to see him. Both she and Alistair stood, though Rhys ushered them both back down. “I didn’t know if you’d be able to make it,” Jessa continued, a tight smile on her lips. Despite their earlier talks things were still tense between them, and Rhys knew it to be his own fault.

“I didn’t bring anything with me,” Rhys explained as Jessa eyed his empty hands with confusion. “I already know quite a bit about the family, and seeing as I’m no scholar myself I’m probably much more useful if just asked questions. My family has been allies with the Arcius’s for years and I’ve met them personally a handful of times, so I wager I can answer most questions you might have.”

Rhys had pondered over what information he should reveal, should be be asked something sensitive, but after some deliberation he’d decided to be honest, regardless of the question. If Jessa was to be a part of his family for the rest of his life there was only so much that could be hidden from her, and if she was to discover the information eventually there was really no point in holding anything back. This was surely not the advice his father or even his mother would give, but Rhys didn’t particularly care. Besides, he could not deny that his openness with Jessa had selfish motivations. Anything that would help to build Jessa’s trust was invaluable.

“So, what do you want to know?”

Rhys took the other seat beside Jessa, leaning forward and propping one elbow on the desk. Though he focused his attention on Jessa, Rhys could not help but notice Alistair watching the two carefully, looking over their interactions and shared glances with what almost looked like amusement. From the way in which Alistair regarded Rhys, it was impossible for him to not realize that the man was very aware of Rhys’ feelings for Jessa, and vaguely he wondered what Jessa had said to the older man. Suddenly Rhys found himself very determined to make a good impression.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa was surprised at Rhys’ transformation from this morning to now. In fact, she could not say that she had ever seen him talking so politely or sitting so straight. She frowned, missing the question Alistair asked and Rhys’ reply. “Sorry, what was that?” she asked in embarrassment. Alistair looked at her oddly, but Rhys did not miss a beat.

“The last known record of the Arcius family predating the Barichean Wars is of one of their younger sons. I can’t remember his name. It was just after Barichea, as we know it, formed – and with it a new monarchy. He was hung for treason, though there is no mention of his crime. After that, they disappeared from the books, though I suspect they moved from Barichea to Novamor.”

Jessa nodded. If what Rhys told her of the Arcius family was true – that they had not been keen upon the splitting countries but had allied themselves to nobles in the south to create Novamor – it made sense that they would retreat there. However, though they were a strong noble family still, they had no real power over Novamor. During the Barichean Wars, the family appeared to have fallen rather far.

“Why would there be no information on them during the wars? It doesn’t make any sense. Surely a family with that much influence would not have just fallen from the face of the world for around a hundred years,” she said, speaking mostly to herself. “I suppose one son’s criminality could be the downfall of an entire family, particularly one who had been so prominent. If they fell out of public favour and then were too ashamed to do anything…”

“One man’s indiscretion would not have been able to ruin an entire family’s reputation,” Rhys argued. “They would have been able to lessen the impact with their contacts.”

“I know,” Jessa sighed. “I’m just thinking out loud. This is what we do: suggest anything that is even vaguely plausible and then discard the options until we find the one that fits the best.”

Rhys nodded, appearing actually interested in what she had to say. Jessa narrowed her eyes, wondering what game he was playing. Yet, as they continued their discussion, his concentration did not waver. He even seemed to be genuinely enjoying the conversation and the input he could give them. Alistair wrote down everything he said, building up a fact file that contained over double the information they had before. The only bit that was missing was any information on the Barichean Wars. Story of Jessa’s life.

“Do you have any books on the Barichean Wars?” she asked Rhys. “They don’t have to contain any reference to the Arcius’. I know you lent me the book on your family, and that certainly has more information – I’ll bring it tomorrow, Alistair – but do you have any general accounts of it?”

Rhys confessed that he did not know. “We can look, though.”

Jessa shook her head. “No, I can do it. Don’t worry about it.” She still felt uneasy being along with him and was not about to willingly put herself in that situation when she could do it herself. Rhys watched her for a moment but relented.

A short while later they had fully exhausted every possible question and knew everything that Rhys did about the Barichean Wars. Since he had not researched it, he knew far less than Jessa and Alistair, however. Jessa was satisfied with what they had covered today, but it was still not enough to work out what was going on with Irina.

She sighed and stood up, taking Alistair’s hand in farewell. He look up at her tiredly. “I’ll keep looking, Jessa. Although I probably should check on Irina soon.” Jessa nodded and left.

When Jessa realised Rhys was not behind her, she turned and walked back. Upon hearing quiet voices, she sidled over to the open door. She hid on the opposite side, wondering what Alistair and Rhys could possibly have to discuss without her. “Do not hurt her,” she heard Alistair say. She flushed, realising they were talking about her.

“I am trying,” Rhys said sullenly.

“Well try harder. That girl has become the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had and I know when she is upset. And I know you caused that, even if she won’t tell me how.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t excuse it, I know. But I honestly do not want to ever hurt her. I can promise you that.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Jessa held her breath and prepared to get away in case their conversation was over. She heard the sound of a chair scraping back, and then Alistair said, “I hope you keep to that. I will not watch as you ruin Jessa’s life just as the du Renes did. That girl has had enough pain in her life.”

“I know.” Rhys’ voice was quiet, though Jessa could not decide if that was because he had moved away or not.

“I don’t think you do. You did not watch her come into your study every day, watching her come alive until she realised she would be going back to the castle and Elissa’s cruelty as soon as her class was over. You did not see the way Queen Catrice made sure Jessa’s father would never show her any interest. You did not see a girl who had so much promise and life believe she was worthless in everything except her work – and that was difficult to convince her of.”

Alistair’s voice was shaky with emotion. There was anger, hurt and guilt in his voice. Jessa swallowed a lump in her throat and told herself not to cry. She knew they were the facts of her life and she had grown used to them. It was almost like it had happened to someone else. She brushed away a lone tear. That Alistair felt all those things – particularly the guilt, for none of it was his fault – made her ache. Inside the room, there was a stunned silence.

“She is not worthless to me,” Rhys said. He sounded stronger now, more determined. “She is…” Rhys cut off.

“She is not worthless to me, either. But if she means something to you, you have to show it to her. I don’t mean with grand gestures. She’ll see other motives in that and distrust you. You have to show it to her every day.”

Jessa heard someone coming closer to the door and she panicked. Quickly checking that no one was looking her way, she rushed over to the other side of the door, nearly missing what Alistair said next. “There are only two things left in this world that I care about, since my wife died: my work and my students, both past and present, and that includes Jessa. If anyone does anything to harm either of those things, they have me to answer to. That even includes you, though I’m sure you could kill me in one move.”

Jessa heard the door open widen and she hastened to put some distance between them. She turned just as Rhys came into the hallway and schooled her features into a questioning glance. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Rhys asked, clearly preoccupied. “He just wanted to know where some of the smaller libraries and bookshops in Jasrah can be found.”

Even if Jessa had not overheard their real conversation, she would have seen through the lie. She let it go with a shrug. She changed the subject as they walked down the corridor. “It’s your usual day for meeting your friends in the tavern. Are you going tonight?”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Alistair knew; there was simply no way around it. By the forceful way in which he’d just spoken to Rhys, making him feel very much like a child being scolded for misdoings, Rhys was quite sure that Alistair was more aware if Rhys’ intentions than even Jessa was. Though he had no reason to fear an old man with empty threats Rhys could not help but feel some discomfort around someone so extremely protective of Jessa that he would go to the lengths of indirectly threatening someone as notorious as Rhys. Yet in this Rhys found some comfort, for it was nice to know that there was someone on whom Jessa could rely, a piece of family Jessa could cling to when Rhys’ own was less than welcoming.

Jessa’s question was the first thought Rhys had had of his friends since his birthday, and though he longed to see them a nagging voice scolded his thoughts.

“I don’t think so,” Rhys said, smiling at his own thoughts. “I’ve had quite enough alcohol for the time being, don’t you agree?”

Jessa had to agree. After all, she’d been the main focus of Rhys’ drunken antics, to his ultimate shame. But with his words he noticed some dismay in Jessa’s expression, and for a split second he wondered if she had been looking forward to seeing him drunk. After his birthday he would have expected for her to never want to see him again.

“Were you hoping to go?” He asked.

Jessa shrugged. “I enjoy your friends.”

“You know they’re your friends too. They really like you, Jessa. You might be skeptical but you’ll just have to take my word on it and trust me. I know they’d love to see you. There’s really no reason for you to not go.”

For a moment Rhys thought he might have broken through to Jessa, that she might take him up on the opportunity to go to the tavern without Rhys’ company, but then she surprised him with a small shake of the head. “No, it would be strange without you there. It always seems like you’re what ties them all together.”

Rhys smiled to himself, looking down at his feet. Though Jessa might not have realized it, it was one of the few compliments she had paid Rhys. Still, he shook off the idea, insisting that he was just another friend to them all and nothing more, despite Jessa’s protests.

“What do you plan on doing instead?” She asked casually as they made their way back to the boats.

“Probably nothing of interest. I’d fence with Dima but he rarely stays in on such nights. With Anja gone maybe I’ll actually have some peace for once.” Rhys focused on that last idea. A night without Anja’s bitter remarks would be a good one no matter what he did. “You’re welcome to join me, whatever it is that I end up doing.”

Though Jessa gave no answer Rhys was fairly certain her nonresponse was a refusal, judging by the way she kept a safe distance between them as they walked and sat far from him as they boarded a boat to take them back home. It was no matter, really, for Rhys had expected nothing less. It only made sense that Jessa should not want to be around him. Were he someone else, Rhys would not want to surround himself with people like him.

By the time they reached the shores just outside the Marinon estate darkness had fallen over Jasrah, the whole house lit with the soft glow of candles from inside. Rhys bid Jessa goodnight, heading up towards his room without another thought. Once shut into his room Rhys stripped off his coat and doublet, pulling off his boots and throwing them in a corner. He took a book at random from beside his bed, setting himself beside the slow burning fire and reveling in the quiet. Eventually his eyelids drooped more and more by the minute, and somewhere along the way he dozed off into a weak sleep. A soft knock on his door woke him with a start and Rhys stumbled to the door, trying to push aside his lethargy. To his great surprise Jessa stood at the door, her arms wrapped around herself with a look of uneasiness on her face.

“Is everything alright?” Rhys asked, suddenly concerned by Jessa’s manner.

“Yes,” she said slowly, obviously a bit confused at Rhys’ concern. “I just thought I’d join you, like you offered.” Her voice trailed off at the end, almost sounding somewhat embarrassed at her words. For a moment Rhys was simply too stunned by her presence to make a move, then jumping to action, opening the door and ushering Jessa inside awkwardly.

She looked around Rhys’ room for a moment with apprehension, moving to the fire and picking up the book that had fallen from Rhys’ lap. She looked from the fire to Rhys, noting his messy appearance.

“Did I wake you?” She asked. “I can go, if you’d like.”

“No, no!” Rhys interjected quickly, feeling rather foolish as he noted the excitement in his voice. He backed away a bit, messing with his hair absentmindedly in his embarrassment. When he looked up he realized Jessa was standing awkwardly beside the fire, looking around with apprehension.

“Take a seat,” Rhys urged, gesturing to the chair he’d just occupied. He went to the other wall and grabbed another chair, pulling it up beside Jessa’s, putting some space between the two at the last minute as he thought better. At first they sat in silence, neither knowing quite what to say to begin conversation, but as Rhys thought back on their earlier talk this morning he knew exactly what needed to be said.

“Earlier you asked me how I can kill or torture and then be so different around you,” he began, speaking slowly, thinking hard on his words before he spoke them. “Do you want to know my answer?”

Initially Jessa said nothing, but after a moment she frowned, staring into the fire. “I don’t know,” she said simply. “Part of me wants to know, but another part of me isn’t sure if I can handle the truth.”

“Then let me at least try to explain. If you feel uncomfortable you can let me know and I’ll stop, though I think it’s best if you know. Gods know I don’t want to tell you. Gods know it won’t sound good.”

When Jessa did not argue with his reasoning Rhys began, conjuring his thoughts as he went, for it was a question he had never had to think on much less answer.

“I don’t actually remember when I first realized what my family did, how we were so well known and respected. I suppose I must have been fairly young when I was told, but I can’t remember my exact age. From childhood I was taught all the skills I would need to carry out my father’s business, though I was never really told directly that my fencing or fighting would be used so directly. Though you might be surprised, I was actually instilled with a very strong set of values, though they may not be values you would say are the most important. Loyalty, obedience, sacrifice: these were things drilled into me, things I was never allowed to forget. I was, above all, to be loyal to my family, and I had no trouble with that idea.

“When I got older the truth of my family began to seep in, but by that point it did not bother me. I had been taught my father’s own brand of justice, a type of justice in which those who were honorable and loyal prevailed and those who were not were punished, and the sort of punishment that was given never seemed odd to me. Pain is such a simple way to influence people, to force someone into submission in a matter of minutes. And death –“ Rhys paused, trying to think of a way to frame his thoughts that did not sound entirely distorted, “- death is the ultimate human fear, and if you can utilize that fear you can control anyone and anything. However, you cannot retain power if you dole out empty threats. If we are to retain our infamy, if we are to be seen as a threat that cannot be taken down, we have to carry out our threats when the time comes.

“When I do these things, when I am the one who must take action, I find it in myself to flip a sort of switch and shut down the part of me that knows deep down that what I’m doing is cruel. I let that part of me that enjoys the power I have take over, and I remind myself of my family, of the legacy I am upholding. I know it probably sounds demented and twisted to you, but it’s the truth. This is how I was raised; this is all I’ve ever known. I think you’d find that with this sort of power, had you been raised in this family, you’d be very different too.”

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa could not say why she had sought out Rhys when she knew he would be alone. She had not wanted to do such a thing when they had all been talking in Alistair’s office. Yet she found herself here now, listening with unease as Rhys tried to explain something he could never make her truly understand. She chewed her lip, shifting uneasily in her chair. She was desperate to leave, but at the same time she knew she needed to hear his explanation.

“I can’t say I understand how you can still do those things when you’ve just admitted to me that you know them to be cruel,” Jessa said when Rhys had finished. He watched her warily, knowing she had not said all that she wanted to say. “But I can accept that you follow the values that you have been taught by your family, and that your life with them has affected how you view the world. The fact that you do when you know that there are things wrong with those values and the fact that you hide behind them to explain what you do to people, I cannot admire.”

It did not look as though Rhys had expected anything less. He nodded and looked away into the fire. Jessa watched him, an odd sensation roiling in her stomach. She bit her lip and said, “I heard your conversation with Alistair.”

His gaze swung to hers in surprise. Apparently, she was getting more proficient at the spying thing, just when she had lost all interest in doing it. She smiled thinly. “I’m sorry. I went back to see where you were and ended up… listening in,” she finished lamely.

Rhys shook his head. “No, I suppose it’s okay. You didn’t hear anything you didn’t already know.”

Jessa had not, in fact, known that Alistair was as protective of the things he cared about as he had displayed. She had not expected his friendship for her ran so deep, even though she considered him as a father figure. She had not realised that he would threaten someone like Rhys.

“Perhaps,” she said instead. “I guess, since you have shared with me, I wanted to clarify the things Alistair said. He seemed to think that my life before Jasrah held nothing but suffering. I want you to know that that is not the case – that is wasn’t as horrible or dramatic as he made out.”

Rhys’ expression turned sceptical for a moment, but his interest soon won out. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said, though the look in his eyes told otherwise.

“I want to,” she said firmly. “I’ve never really spoken to anyone about it, but perhaps I should. And you have told me about your life, so I should tell you about mine.”

Rhys did not seem convinced with her reasoning, but his desire to know more about life in the castle and about the du Renes – she guessed that it was better to know as much as possible about your enemies – kept him from stopping her. Jessa took a deep breath.

“It really was not as bad as Alistair said. Elissa was cruel, yes, and unsanctioned, but most of the time I was able to avoid her. I kept to myself, in my little room in the castle, and studied. I was often sent to boarding schools when I was younger, though Elissa was not born then, so I did not even have to live in the castle for most of my early life, after my mother died.” She paused as her breath caught in her throat. She glanced down to regain her composure.

“Really, a girl of my position could have been cast aside. They let me go to school. They let me learn everything those institutions had to offer that I wished to. Mathematics, Sciences, Geography, and my beloved History. They treated me as I deserved, and I did not utterly despise living there. Alistair met me when Elissa was old enough to realise she could say mean things to me and get away with it. Her words hurt, but I learned to understand what she was saying and ignore her. So, when Alistair said that I looked unhappy whenever classes ended, it was because the class was ending, not being I knew where I had to go next. I cannot help that his lessons were so interesting that I often hung around afterwards to discuss the ideas with him.”

Her thoughts were disjointed, she knew. She was speaking as soon as an idea came to her, saying anything to get rid of the disbelieving look on Rhys’ face.

“Did you ever have friends at your schools?” he asked.

“No,” she said simply. “I was always too focused on my schooling and finished my years there before most of the children did. I was not interested in it; I wanted to know everything I could as quickly as possible.”

“Or you did not think you were worthy of friends.”

Jessa shook her head. “No, that wasn’t it.”

“You did not think yourself worthy of your father’s love.”

“I was a mistake. My father would never have acknowledged me, even if he had been guided to that decision with the help of Catrice.” She drew in a shaky breath at the mention of her name, anger twisting in her gut. Rhys noticed her reaction and looked at her in concern.

“Catrice was the only woman I truly despised during my life there,” she said. “The things I believe she has done can never soften my feelings for her. But I saw her even less than Elissa. I was beneath her notice, for which I am grateful.”

“What do you think she’s done?” Rhys asked, his voice so quiet that she almost did not hear him over the crackle of the fire. She looked away, not sure if she could face telling him. This was a suspicion she had certainly never shared with anyone. For one, no one would believe it, and for another, by telling someone Catrice would have surely discovered it and accused her of slander. Jessa had not needed the hassle.

“Jessa?” Rhys said gently. She looked up at him and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. As she watched him, she realised that whatever she said to him would not make its way back to Catrice. She could actually tell someone what she had feared and suspected for years.

“I… I think…” she said haltingly. She shifted in her chair. “My mother was in perfect health before her death. I remember her vitality. It was not a woman who was ill. They told me she died of illness, an illness I knew she could not have, even at that age. And one day, I saw Catrice watching me. I was wandering around the castle with the blanket I had had since I was a baby, and I just saw her staring, holding her firstborn in her arms. I don’t know what it was about it, but then I knew.”

She paused and closed her eyes. Feeling Rhys squeeze her hand, her eyelids flew open. She had sat forwards on her chair as she had spoken, and held out her hand. She bit her lip and held onto Rhys’ hand as tightly as she could. Her fear and her need to voice her suspicion, even if she was certain Rhys had already figured it out, warred within her. She could not keep it bottled inside any more.

“I knew she had killed my mother.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Never had Rhys liked any of the royal family, but for the most part his family had let them be, knowing the importance of keeping up the appearance of fealty. Though Rhys had guessed Jessa’s words before she spoke them, hearing them vocalized brought on a wave of hatred for the royal family. Yet Rhys knew that despite his anger there was absolutely nothing to be done. The du Rene’s were the one family he could not touch, and he knew any action would certainly anger Jessa. Still, he could not help but wish he could somehow hurt the woman who had killed Jessa’s mother.

Suddenly Rhys had a strange moment of clarity. Jessa’s words still echoed in his head, asking him why his first response to his anger was to hurt others. Was this not exactly what she had been referring to? Rhys frowned, trying to push back the shame that welled up. He could not ponder such things, not now.

“Though I wish you could, I doubt you’ll ever feel completely comfortable around my family,” said Rhys, squeezing Jessa’s hand. “But I hope you feel that there is at someone in this home you can trust, someone you can turn to. I think you already know that I hope you can come to me, but I’d like it if you could someday come to trust my mother.”

Jessa did not seem to think very favorably on that notion. She looked apprehensive and her hold on Rhys’ hand slackened.

“I know it’s a lot to ask right now,” Rhys continued, “but I think you’ll find that my mother is a good, caring person. If not for her I could have very well have ended up just like Anja, or at least some variation on that. She doesn’t wish you ill, no matter what you may think. She loves her children unconditionally and wishes only the best for those she loves.” Rhys noted Jessa’s eyebrows shoot up and he quickly amended himself. “I don’t mean to insinuate that she could in any way replace your mother, or that you should ever feel that way about her, but if you are to be here forever you might want to find some allies. Forever is an awfully long time.”

There was no way to know if Jessa had taken anything Rhys said to heart, but he hoped she could consider what he’d said. She released Rhys’ hands, getting to her feat and heading for the door.

“Wait,” Rhys called to her, getting to his feet. Jessa turned pausing just before the door. “Won’t you stay?” When Jessa did not answer Rhys jumped to the first thing that came to mind. “I could let you try to regain your honor in a game of chess, seeing as you lost it last time.”

To Rhys’ pleasure Jessa actually cracked a smile, shrugging her shoulders. “Why not.”

They settled into Rhys’ personal study, Rhys setting up the game as Jessa browsed through his bookshelf. Occasionally she would comment on a book she recognized, asking Rhys’ opinion or starting an argument over the accuracy of the content. Rhys had to pry her away from the shelf and back to the game, promising she could critique his literary choices at some other time.

Once the game began Jessa noticeably relaxed, her anxiety around Rhys seemingly disappearing. He questioned her tirelessly on her research and her time at the university in Ovis, always managing to think up a new question when one topic had been exhausted. He enjoyed listening to Jessa talk about her studies. Her passion showed easily, her face lighting up as she retold stories of days spent with Alistair pouring over a new text they had discovered. Though Rhys’ interest was not held in the world of academia, he could not help but feed on Jessa’s own enthusiasm. Seeing her so animated was like seeing a different person, and Rhys found her happiness endearing.

“What about you?” Jessa asked eventually. “You can’t really find my boring life to be interesting. I’m sure you have far more exciting stories.” She stopped herself, looking somewhat horrified. “I didn’t mean those things, obviously,” she said, getting flustered, “I don’t want to know about any of that.”

Rhys laughed. “Oh yes, I’m sure I have some fascinating stories, but honestly I’d rather hear about you. You don’t bore me at all; it’s rather the opposite, actually. Your passion is inspiring.”

“Besides,” Rhys continued before Jessa could negate his words, “I thought I was going to have to marry Elissa until I met you. Just think about it – right now I could be listening to a teenager complain about how a servant didn’t properly lay out her clothes or how someone did not bow before her as she passed. What an exciting life that would have been.”

It was clear Jessa appreciated the jab to her stepsister, laughing along with Rhys. “I’m sure you would have loved her,” she said scathingly.

“I believe ‘loath’ is the word you're looking for,” Rhys retorted, rolling his eyes. “You know, I’m rather glad it was you. You’re worth a million Elissa’s, and even then I think I’d still take Ero.”

Jessa laughed at Rhys’ joke about Ero, but she still flushed at his compliment, looking down at the board. Her blush did not seem to affect her playing ability though, for when Rhys looked down at the board he realized she had captured his queen, taking advantage of his inattention.

“Well, since I’m obviously already distracted, what would you like to know about me?” Rhys said, making his move and leaning back in his chair, hands sitting on his chest.

“What do you mean?” Jessa questioned, looking somewhat suspicious.

“There has to be something about me you're curious about, some detail of my personal life my friends have left undisclosed. Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

“Why?”

Rhys sighed. Apparently his reasoning was not as clear as it seemed to him. “Because I don’t want there to be any awkward unspoken boundaries between us. I want you to know me.”

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa watched Rhys warily, thinking of nothing to say. There were probably many things she wanted to know about Rhys, but in that moment she could think of none of them. She shrugged her shoulders and focused on the game. Rhys laughed. “Really? Nothing at all?”

Jessa was flustered and said the first thing that came into her head. “Tell me about how you and Selene got together.”

Rhys blanched. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, as she moved a pawn up a space, threatening his rook. “I wasn’t thinking. You don’t have to tell me anything about that.”

“I said you could ask me anything,” Rhys replied simply. He stared at the chessboard for a few moments, but it was not his next move he was contemplating. “Selene and I had been friends for a long time before we became lovers. It was a natural progression for us. Although I would not say there is anything ordinary about her, it was a relatively simple relationship. We had our disagreements, but there were no real issues to surmount. We got engaged-”

Jessa started at the offhand revelation, accidentally knocking her knight off the board. She mumbled an apology and returned the piece to its square, steadfastly looking downwards as she blushed. “I... I didn’t know that. I... I’m so sorry.”

“We’d barely had time to get used to the idea before the arrangement with your family was told to me. Honestly, we had told no one and we acted no differently to how we had before. Don’t worry yourself, please.” Rhys paused. She felt a tension in the air as he pondered whether to say what he wanted to say. She looked up expectantly. “I can’t say I hate how things turned out. I’ve made a new friend, if nothing else. Besides, I can still see Selene.”

Though she knew the answer, she still had to check. “Do you love her?”

“Of course I do. I will never stop. But I certainly don’t feel as distressed about my situation as I once did. I never would have thought it then, but time really is a great help.”

“How can you be so casual about it?” Jessa dropped her gaze, but forced herself to look up only a moment later. Their gazes held. Rhys shrugged and moved a piece, though Jessa paid no attention.

“There’s nothing I can do to change it. I’ve reconciled myself to it and if I was still raging about it I’d spend the rest of my life exhausted. And honestly, Jessa, I’ve met and befriended you. The marriage got you out of that awful place. It hasn’t been entirely bad. Do you not agree?”

Jessa did not reply for a while. Although she had had a lot more difficulty in adjusting – she had moved away from everything she had known, after all – and she lived with a family whose morals and choices disgusted her, she did have to agree that some parts had been good. She had friends for the first time, and she had someone she trusted. She would not have divulged her greatest suspicion with Rhys if she did not trust him. Jessa stared at him, realising the truth of her thoughts. After a moment, their gazes holding a little too long, she blushed and ducked her head. “There have definitely been some good moments. Such as this: checkmate.”

Rhys looked down at the board in astonishment. He checked all the pieces and then sat back in his chair. “I guess that makes us even, then.”

Jessa smiled at him winningly, and he smiled back. A few moments later her smile softened and then she looked away. As they tidied away the pieces she said, “I’ve always wondered what you do with your days, when you’re not getting drunk or...” Jessa trailed away uneasily. Rhys’ smile faltered for a moment but he shook himself.

“I’m mostly deal with the family accounts and other general book-keeping. I’m destined to run the family affairs that my mother oversees. It’s not necessarily the most interesting thing in the world, but it passes the time well enough. And then when I’m not doing that, I practise my fighting skills, and I annoy Anja, I suppose.”

Jessa laughed. “The house is much nicer when she isn’t here.”

“I would have to agree with you there.” Having finished packing up the chess set, Jessa lingered awkwardly on her side of the table. Strangely, she did not want to leave yet. Even if their evening had started off with uncomfortable truths, she was enjoying her chance to get to know Rhys better – and she did not feel she had fully utilised that chance. It might not come again. She glanced at Rhys, and it was clear from his expression that he was not tired or really willing to end their night just yet either.

“How about we discuss your literary choices now?” she suggested slyly, wandering over to the bookcase and grazing a finger along the titles. Her gaze landed upon one and she scoffed, lifting it out for Rhys to see. “Really? A Lover’s Tale?”

Rhys hid his face. “It was a joke gift from Freya one year. She doesn’t particularly enjoy giving gifts people actually want. She much prefers seeing their faces when they are given something surprising. I’ve never read it,” he hastened to add. Jessa arched her eyebrow but replaced the book.

She pulled out other books she had read and disliked, asking Rhys opinion. Although in general their tastes seemed to match, there were a few ones Jessa had despised that Rhys argued had literary merit, and vice versa. She thoroughly enjoyed their conversation, having fun shooting comments and rebuttals back and forth. Eventually, she came to the end of the shelf where she found one of her favourite books.

“What about this one?” she said, pulling it off the shelf. She waited for his answer, not realising for a moment that she was actually holding her breath.

“I actually haven’t read it,” he said, taking the book out of her hands. She gaped and insisted that he read it as soon as possible. She told him that it held everything that a good book ought to: intrigue, mystery, surprises, and an unbelievable end. Rhys promised her that he would read it as soon as he found the time. He placed it carefully on the table. Jessa smiled and wandered back to the table, standing in front of the chair she had occupied before their game. She had no idea what time it was, but suspected it was probably rather late.

“This... I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it,” she admitted honestly. Rhys looked a little affronted. “Seriously, Rhys, I had no idea how to act around you after last night. But... there’s something about you when I’m with you. I’m not going to forget what you can be like, but somehow it matters less when we’re doing things like this. Just... talking, I guess. I don’t know why, but you manage to make me feel comfortable around you time and time again, even when I start off against the idea, even when you hurt me – though I know you don’t mean to. I guess...” She stopped, not sure what she was really saying. Her brain was a jumble of thoughts. “I believe you’ve asked me a few times to trust you... and I do.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

To hear Jessa say the words Rhys’ had been so hoping to hear gave him some of the hope that had begun to wane. He could practically hear Kieran’s thoughts infiltrating his own, telling him that trust was the first step in any relationship, but Rhys tried to push away such thoughts. He’d put his feelings on the table – should anything more happen it was up to Jessa. He would not make the mistake of pushing things too far again. Still, no such thoughts could sour Rhys’ mood. He had gained Jessa’s trust, whatever that entailed, and for now that was enough.

In his happiness an idea came forth, something Rhys had not thought of in quite some time. “Come with me,” Rhys said, taking Jessa’s hand and leading her from the room.

It was late enough that even the servants had gone to bed, and with most of the candles extinguished Rhys had only the moonlight streaming in through the many windows to guide his way. Rhys could have found his way through the halls of his own home in the dark, but judging by Jessa’s hesitance as he began to lead her away from the main part of the house into the recesses rarely visited, it was a good thing the moon was as bright as it was. For a moment Rhys thought he might have forgotten which door he was looking for, but luckily his memory did not fail him, and when he tried the inconspicuous locked door at the end of the hall it opened easily, leading to a narrow spiral staircase.

“What is this?” Jessa whispered, though there was no real need for there was no one around. Rhys only shook his head, pointing up the staircase without further clues as to where they were going. Jessa gripped onto Rhys’ hand tightly as they ascended the very steep stairs, using her other hand to grip onto the stone walls the best she could. It was a short climb but even Rhys had to admit it was more ominous than was really necessary. When they reached the top Rhys quickly unlocked the small wooden door before turning to face Jessa.

“You first,” he instructed, moving Jessa around him the best he could in the narrow stairwell. As soon as she stood before him Rhys reached around and covered her eyes with his hands. She started but quickly came down, taking a few deep breaths at Rhys’ instruction.

“You said you trusted me, yes?” He asked, keeping his hands firmly over her eyes.

“Yes,” Jessa answered firmly, though she couldn’t help but let some hesitance seep into her voice.

With her reaffirmation Rhys used his foot to gently press the door open, guiding Jessa into the room beyond the door.

The moment Rhys removed his hands Jessa let out a gasp, looking around in amazement. Rhys began wandering though the vast, open room, admiring the high domed ceilings and the plethora of windows that gave the appearance of the walls being made of glass. The Marinon manor, being built so close to the cliffs, had wings that actually extended into the cliff faces on the upper levels, and this particular room sat at the very top of one such cliff. Beyond the windows the room looked down on the sea below, an unobstructed view of the small inlet that led to the house. At the center of the room stood a grand altar decorated in silver and glittering jewels, a marble basin on display in the middle. Lining the walls were full body statues of the Gods and Goddesses, all posed towards the altar in the middle.

“A pantheon,” Jessa breathed, taking a step closer, her eyes darting all over the room. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean, I’ve seen some larger versions in Ovis but this… this is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Rhys, watching Jessa with a smile as her eyes continued to widen. “I used to visit here often to take solace. It was a place where I could think undisturbed by anyone else. I haven’t been here in quite some time, though I’m not sure exactly why I ever stopped coming. The room hasn’t been used for its actual purpose in generations, not since the nobility gradually stopped worshiping – or believing in – the Gods. No one in my family but me ever uses the room to my knowledge, though considering my mother was the one to show it to me I’m certain they’re all aware of it’s existence. The servants only ever come up to dust and polish once every few weeks, so you’re very unlikely to ever run into one.”

“When you say ‘I’m very unlikely’…” Jessa said, her attention now turned to Rhys.

Rhys stepped forward, pulling his small key ring from his pocket and removing the one that opened the doors to the staircase. He placed it in Jessa’s open palm, closing her fingers over it with your hand. “Take it. This room deserves to be appreciated by someone.”

“But what about you?” Jessa asked with concern, staring down at her hand as if it might disappear all together, taking the key with it.

Rhys waved off her concerns. “We have copies of every key for the estate. I’ll just ask one of the maids for another.”

For a moment Rhys thought he saw tears in Jessa’s eyes, but when he looked again they seemed to have disappeared, making him wonder if there had been anything there to begin with. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice wavering. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“It’s nothing,” said Rhys, trying to not show the pleasure he got from the way Jessa was looking at him. “I thought you might like it, seeing as you enjoy reading and getting away from my family, two things this room works spectacularly for. Plus,” he pointed up at the high domed ceiling, “if you look closely you can see there’s glass at the top of the dome. During the day the sunlight streams in and if you catch it when the sun is directly overhead –“ he paused, gesturing to the altar that stood directly below, “ – well, I’ll let you see for yourself.”

Even Rhys felt somewhat awkward under Jessa’s penetrating stare, feeling as though he was being dissected with nothing more than a look. The way she looked at him - her head tilted slightly to the side, her eyes soft and full of some emotion Rhys couldn’t place – made Rhys feel oddly vulnerable. He broke eye contact and retreated to one of the walls, slipping between two female statues to gaze out a window. His heart was pounding in his chest and he knew it had nothing to do with the room. Jessa’s look was unlike Rhys had ever seen from her; it was something completely foreign from his understanding. Still, Rhys refused to allow himself to think anything of it. It was gratitude and nothing else; any other thoughts would cause Rhys’ hopes to run loose. When he felt Jessa’s presence nearby he looked over his shoulder, meeting her eyes. In that brief exchange Rhys threw caution to the wind, allowing himself for one moment to mask no emotion from his face.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa did not know how to react to the look on Rhys’ face. For a moment she considered the possibility of someone entering the room behind them, but she knew that had not happened. She fidgeted, but did not pull her gaze from his. His expression frightened her, but it also stirred something within her, something she had never felt before. That might actually have been a lie, for she had felt something more than gratitude when Rhys had shown her this room and handed her the key. But this feeling within her was something she had only ever felt for the man before her.

He looked away, leaving her flustered. She tried to gather her thoughts, trying to work out what his weighted look had meant. She had seen it before, but never directed at her. First, there had been a time when she had been with her mother, and the king had been walking the gardens nearby. He had stopped and watched as they had walked past, though her mother had been oblivious to it, wrapping Jessa up warm against the cold. She had seen it as the way Ero and Freya looked at each other, and it was reminiscent of the way Rhys had looked at Selene the first few times they had been in each other’s company... Jessa froze, only her heart hammering away in her chest. She shook her head, realising she must have been imagining it, putting some well-hidden desire of hers for affection on Rhys’ face. It could not be true, for he still loved Selene.

He had said that he wanted to be with her, though. Jessa frowned, feeling thorough confused, though a part of her told her that it was really relatively simple and she just did not want to accept the truth. She sighed, walking tentatively over to Rhys. She squeezed between statues and looking out of the window next to Rhys’. She could not help her gaze sliding to him, but he did not look back. Frowning, Jessa turned away. She wondered if she was perhaps now misinterpreting Rhys’ words. Wanting to be with her could really mean anything – it could have meant that he wanted to spend some time with her, playing chess or reading. Jessa felt a pang of disappointment, seemingly from nowhere, and frowned harder. Her head was a jumbled mess.

Feeling eyes upon her, she lifted her gaze to Rhys. He smiled at her. “We should probably go soon. It is pretty late.”

She nodded wordlessly. Neither of them moved. “Thank you, again, for showing me this place.”

“Really, you don’t need to thank me.”

Jessa shrugged. She wasn’t completely sure what she was doing, but she found herself walking towards him, until they were almost as close as they had been when Irina was first brought to the house. Rhys watched her with trepidation, beginning to take a step back when she reached out for his hands. He stopped dead, searching her eyes. Jessa, her pulse racing, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. The skin was soft and warm, but she felt Rhys jolt in surprise. She pulled away quickly, looking away. Jessa breathed heavily. When she gathered the courage to look at him again, she said quietly, “I do. You’re nowhere near perfect, not even close, but you have done a lot for me. Things you never needed to do. You could have ignored me–”

“I could never have ignored you.”

“–or let your family do what they wanted to me. But you haven’t. You’ve...” She trailed away, not sure where she was taking this. Their gazes held, and Jessa was acutely aware of how close they were all of a sudden. She stayed there for a moment, letting his fingers rub the back of her hand. Then, her fear took over and she drew back. Rhys let her go willingly, for which she was grateful. She smiled at him.

“I definitely think there’s been enough excitement for one day. I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow, Rhys...” Jessa turned, keeping her head bowed, and crossed the room, leaving without looking back. Her heart was still beating rapidly against her ribcage.

***

“Oh, Jessa, there you are. I think you’ll want to hear this too,” Kieran said instantly upon spotting her enter the room for breakfast. Apart from him, Rhys was the only person present in the room. He smiled at her, but he looked uncertain. Jessa did not want everything to be awkward between them – she had kissed him on the cheek as she would any friend who had cared for her as well as he had – so she gave him a proper smile back. Her heart warmed as his eyes seemed to light up. He sat straighter and his smile grew more genuine.

“Sleep well?” he asked as Jessa sat down and was handed a letter. Jessa nodded, then glanced down at the letter, recognising the cursive as belonging to the king.

“It’s from Alrick,” she said quietly, holding up the letter. Kieran stared at it with interest. “Presumably he’s finally got back to me about my information.” She looked closely. “I think it was misdirected. That would explain why it has taken so long to get here. What did you want to tell us, Kieran?”

“Well, I have also received a letter from Ovis. It appears that tensions are even higher in the city than they were when I left. My correspondent is not close to the king so does not know the particulars, but there have been people from Novamor coming into the city and leaving hours later. I’m guessing it’s related to the Arcius’ dispute with the king.”

Jessa frowned and ripped open the letter. She scanned the words and sat back in puzzlement. “He just thanks me for the information, and says that I should continue my reports. He seems distracted. I thought he was terrified the Marinons would usurp him. This issue with the Arcius family must be more drastic than we thought.”

“I suppose the king cares little about an extremely powerful family in his own country when he’s facing a possible feud with one from another,” Rhys said, though the worry on his face belied his casual tone. “I just wonder why their family would scare him more than ours. The Arcius’ hold a lot of sway with the people of Novamor, but their royalty have much more power than our king. I don’t believe Queen Tula shares their values. As far as I know she’s still allied with Etrene.”

Kieran screwed up his mouth in dissent. “I don’t know the particulars, but I know they were talking through letters, and the king never seemed happy whenever he received one from her.”

Rhys stared at Jessa expectantly, but she had no response. She had never cared for politics. Their gazes held for a little too long. She saw, out of the corner of her eyes, Kieran look between the two of them speculatively. “Should I go?” he asked playfully.

Jessa shook her head, breaking Rhys’ gaze. “No, you probably know more than we do about the recent political situation. And if it’s about the Arcius family, a family who is cropping up a lot in my research, then I want to know everything I can about them.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Though Jessa’s fixation and research on the Arcius family was fascinating to observe, Rhys couldn’t help but find it a bit funny.

“Why spend so much time researching them when you’ll see them in just a few weeks? You could always ask them questions yourself.”

Jessa stared at Rhys in surprise, her mouth agape. “What?”

Rhys and Kieran shared a brief look of confusion. “We’re visiting the Arcius’s in a few weeks. My father arranged the stay months ago. As one of our long-standing allies we must, and I quote ‘assure a close relationship with our friends to the south.’ I don’t particularly believe my father any time he uses the word ‘friend,’ but who am I to argue?” Jessa continued to gape and Rhys quickly became concerned. “Did you not know?”

“Why did no one tell me?” Jessa finally exclaimed. “You mean I’ll actually meet them?”

Kieran laughed. “I’d hope so. I’d hate to live in someone’s house and never meet them. That would make for some very awkward introductions at breakfast.”

When Rhys thought about the information for a moment, trying to remember when he had learned of the meeting, he realized that Jessa had not been at that dinner. “I suppose you wouldn’t have heard, seeing as none of us have spoken of the matter much since it was announced. Why weren’t you there, anyway? I suppose you would have been with –“ Rhys faltered, coming to the dark truth. Jessa looked down, almost looking ashamed, as they both came to the realization that Jessa’s absence had been due to her involvement with Cair. The reaction was much the same anytime Cair was mentioned; it was a subject no lone liked to dwell on.

“Oh,” Rhys said lamely, unsure of how to break the heavy silence that had fallen over the table. Luckily Kieran was always ready to diffuse a situation. He’d been milling through the rest of his letters – as a prominent figure he always received a plethora of correspondence each day – and upon opening one letter his eyebrows shot up, taking in the letter with interest.

“This is interesting indeed,” he mused, scanning over the letter again. Rhys tried to lean over to look at the letter but could not decipher the small, slanted writing. “Apparently Novamor has lifted its previous ban on Greater Magic. The use of Greater Magic is no longer a punishable offence unless used to harm another mentally or physically.”

The news took both Rhys and Jessa off guard. They shared a brief exchange, Jessa’s eyes lighting in interest, before turning their attention to Kieran.

“They must be the first country in centuries to lift the bans,” said Rhys, taking the letter from Kieran’s hands and reading over it himself. “I wasn’t aware the royalty were particularly fond of Greater Magic. I’d never thought that Novamor was a safe haven for the practice.”

“It’s not, that’s what’s strange about it,” said Kieran. He frowned to himself, looking more concerned than Rhys had seen him since his arrival. “Though Queen Tula isn’t nearly as hostile towards the magic as King Alrick I’ve never sensed that she had any great desire to overturn the laws. Their ambassador has never brought up the topic either.”

Rhys had only been half listening to Kieran’s words, too absorbed with the letter to pay much thought, and suddenly a line from the letter jumped out at him, a fact Kieran had not revealed.

“It says the King has threatened an embargo on Novamor if they don’t replace the ban,” he looked up at Kieran, trying to judge his thoughts. “Do you think they’ll follow his words.”

Kieran shook is head. “It’s unlikely. The queen is a very stubborn woman; she’s not going to respond well to threats. Besides, Novamor is more or less self-dependent. Though an embargo would certainly damage their economy it would hardly have the desired effect. This seems like a particularly thoughtless move on the king’s part.” Kieran’s frown had not disappeared, his face set in worry. He hurriedly snatched the letter from Rhys’ hands and got up from the table, sweeping his letters into his arms. “If you’ll excuse me I have some letters to write.”

After Kieran departed Rhys and Jessa were left alone in the wake of the news, both assessing the situation to themselves. While Jessa appeared deep in thought Rhys’ thoughts were somewhere else. It was not that the Novarian situation did not concern him, for it was one he imagined he’d be thinking of for some time to come, but rather that Rhys found it rather hard to concentrate on anything around Jessa while his mind was still fixated on her kiss. It was silly really to think so much on one little action, but Rhys could not help feeling that something had changed dramatically between them. Though Jessa still retained a friendly disposition and did not seem particularly altered from the exchange, her kiss had not been one given casually to a friend. Rhys had kissed Freya many times on the cheek in greeting or in farewell, but never had it felt like that. Jessa’s action had been deliberate and slow, aside from the quick drawback at Rhys’ surprise. As innocent as it was, it was done with the sort of feeling one would show a lover, not a friend. Whether or not Jessa saw what Rhys saw he was now without doubts that Jessa’s affections were growing, that perhaps she was beginning to feel what Rhys had felt for weeks. Rhys was beginning to regret his shocked reaction, wondering if perhaps he’d stayed calm Jessa might not have started herself. Perhaps he had missed a crucial chance. If Rhys could have kicked himself he would have.

In his thoughts Rhys realized he had missed Jessa’s question. He looked at her in surprise, realizing he’d been staring off at nothing in particular.

“Are you alright?” Jessa asked suspiciously, regarding Rhys’ dazed look.

“Nothing,” he mumbled quickly, turning back to his breakfast. “I just got lost in thought.”

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa frowned but did not argue. There were too many thoughts vying for her attention for her to worry too much about what was going on with Rhys. She chewed at her lip, looking down at the letter from the king. “When do you think I should respond to this?”

Rhys took a moment to respond, though he had been staring at her. “I don’t know, maybe in a few days. That gives us time for something to happen without him getting too suspicious that suddenly things are happening. Although I doubt he’ll even care.”

Jessa nodded and put the letter onto the table beside her. She began selecting bread and jams, for in the excitement earlier she had not begun eating. While she spread butter onto the bread, she felt Rhys eyes upon her again. She looked up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not usually lost in thought so much.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “There’s just a lot to think about.”

They finished breakfast in silence. Vyserene entered a few minutes before Jessa was done, and she watched the pair speculatively but said nothing. Jessa stood at the same time as Rhys, bidding farewell to Vyserene and leaving the room. Rhys followed. When they got outside, he asked, “What are your plans for the day?”

She sighed. “I’m going to the university again. I seem to be constantly going back and forth, but I want to check on Irina. I imagine it will be a quick visit; I need a day off from research. There's too many things going on in my head and I need to clear it. And if we’re going to Novamor soon, I feel a little happier about having a rest.”

“What will you do?”

“I suppose I’ll stay in the city and wander through the markets. I don’t fancy taking the boat only to return an hour later. What will you do?” she asked. Something deep in her wanted him to say he had nothing to do.

“I have the joy of checking over the family’s finances for the month,” Rhys said. Inwardly, Jessa deflated. She nodded in disappointment, though what she was saddened by escaped her. Rhys shrugged. “Hopefully it won’t take me too long. If you’re still there around lunchtime, we could meet in Jasrah.”

Jessa gave him a small smile. “I’m intending to spend the day there. But how will I know if you are coming?”

They walked up the stairs, hovering at the top where they would part ways. Rhys said, “Wait at the marina for around half an hour at midday. If I’m coming, I’ll be there then.”

***

Without her intention, Jessa had stayed longer at the university. Irina had been thrashing in her sleep, and seemed unsure of herself and her situation once again. Jessa had sat at her bedside, holding her hand tightly as the woman whimpered. Alistair had been at a loss, and so was she. Although she knew far more about Greater Magic now, she could not explain this relapse. She doubted the mage had returned and recast the spell, whatever it was. It had to be very complex, if the magic could work against her so suddenly and forcefully once again. From Irina’s brief moments of wakefulness, she seemed to remember less than the first time. Jessa feared the spell would continue until Irina had no recollection of her own self.

Jessa could not let that happen, and resolved to check the hated book that Cair had given her. She was fairly sure there was nothing in it. When she and Alistair had questioned Rhys the day before, she had checked they had no magic books in their personal library. The family had certainly known about Greater Magic for a long time – much to Jessa’s annoyance, after her weeks of searching – but none of them could perform it. Jessa hoped that, by going to Novamor, there would be ample sources she could read now that the ban had been lifted. However, the thought of visiting a place in which a great many Cairs might live brought a shiver to her spine. Absently, she fingered the blood amulet around her neck. She had not taken it off since Rhys had been given it to her.

The thought of Rhys jolted her memory. Although their meeting had not been certain, she did want to see him for lunch. She checked the time and was glad to see that she had plenty of time to return to the city. She stood, squeezing Irina’s prone hand, and with a last look, left. She found Alistair along the corridor and told him that she would be back later.

He looked at her sternly. “There’s nothing you can do. Come back tomorrow, if you must. I will let you know if she worsens before then.”

Jessa tried to protest but Alistair would not hear of it. She left the university feeling useless and tired. As she sat on the boat, watching the university grow smaller as she neared the harbour, she felt bad about leaving. Rhys would have understood, and it felt wrong to leave Alistair and Irina at such a time. Something stopped her from telling the boatman to turn around, though.

Jessa was leaning against a post by the Marinons usual mooring point, long before Rhys had told her to arrive. She absently watched the boats bumping against the marina and occasionally lifted her head to see if the Marinon boat was approaching. As the minutes passed, she looked up less and less, sure that Rhys was not coming. She sighed, unsure why it bothered her so much. It was just a silly meeting for lunch. Those thoughts did nothing to ease her disappointment.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” someone said cheerfully as a pair of feet came into her view. She looked up and smiled widely. Rhys grinned back, looking far too pleased for the situation. “You must have been bored.”

Jessa shrugged. “No, it’s very fun watching boats doing nothing. I didn’t see your boat.”

“You can’t have been looking then,” he said, pointing at the boat in question. Jessa flushed, surprised that she had missed it. “How was Jasrah this morning?”

“I don’t know. Irina has taken a turn for the worse, so I stayed at the university.” Rhys looked concerned. Jessa shrugged helplessly. “I really don’t know what to do. There’s nothing I can do.” She sighed.

“If there’s nothing you can do, then there’s no point dwelling on it.” He walked past her and gestured for her to follow, which she did with curiosity. “Come on, we’d best take your mind off it.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

As they made their way into Jasrah’s heart, winding through the narrow streets and past the outlying canals, Rhys could begin to sense Jessa’s discomfort.

“Everyone is staring,” she whispered, coming to stand directly beside Rhys, looking around at passerbys with wariness. “Do they always do this?”

“Yes,” Rhys answered calmly, nodding to a man who bowed as he passed. “You get used to it after a while. No matter how long we have lived here or how present in the city we are there will always be the rumors that surround us, making us into objects of wonder. I’m sure you’ve seen the way your father and your step family was regarded in Ovis – it’s much the same here.”

“But Alrick is the King of Etrene,” Jessa argued, moving ever closer to Rhys as they went, most likely out of discomfort from the amount of stares she was receiving. “He’s the ruler of the entire country.”

“It’s much the same here. You’ve always lived in Ovis so you’ve never seen what it’s like in outlying cities For all intents and purposes, Jessa, my family is the royal family of Jasrah. And to be honest, we have more sway here than does the king. The further you get from Ovis the more you’ll find that the king really is not quite as prominent as he might like to think himself to be.”

Still, Rhys’ answer did not seem to completely satisfy Jessa. “I still can’t understand why they would stare so. You’ve lived here your entire life; surely by now the people will have come to expect to see you around. Does the novelty not wear off?”

Rhys smiled, noting as a passing couple did a double take as Rhys and Jessa walked by. “I don’t think it’s me they’re interested in.”

Even though she tried to hide her embarrassment, Rhys did not miss her well-concealed blush. When they reached the market they were quickly separated in the crowds, Jessa disappearing into the throngs as Rhys wandered off without thought. The market was hardly large enough to become truly lost within and Rhys hung back around a display of imported silks, knowing it would be much easier for Jessa to find him than the other way around with the crowds of people pointing and murmuring. As Rhys ran his hand over a particularly fine green silk a hand tapped his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a man of fashion,” Jessa teased, looking over the fabrics herself.

Rhys feigned insult. “I happen to have very good taste. In fact, I think you’ll find that between us I have the superior sense of fashion.” Jessa guffawed, playfully shoving Rhys as he continued to laugh. The rest of the afternoon passed in a similar fashion, Rhys showing Jessa where the best purchases in Jasrah could be made, where to avoid, and which vendors were sure to provide for a laugh. Eventually they bought some simple foods from the market for their lunch, though Rhys could not help but reach for a bottle of his favorite wine. With their purchases made Rhys led Jessa on a long trek throughout the city, winding up the hills at the edge of the city until they reached a meadow overlooking Jasrah in all its splendor. By the time they reached the top their lunch had turned into a dinner, the sun beginning to make its decent past the horizon. They did not speak much as they ate, both too taken with the view to say much. It was not until Rhys poured the wine that conversation returned.

“You’re impossible to understand,” Jessa said simply, swirling the wine around in her cup as she stared off at the setting sun. Rhys regarded her with interest, setting down his own cup and turning towards Jessa.

“What do you mean?”

Jessa fixed her eyes ahead, narrowed in thought. “When you’re with your friends you’re fun, if not slightly ridiculous, yet around your family and when you preform your … duties,” the word sounded like a curse on Jessa’s lips, and she flinched at the very sound, “you’re serious and controlled, almost to the point of being frightening. Yet around me you open up in different ways. You’re kind and patient, and you never seem to grow bored of even the most banal things. It’s not just with me either – I’ve seen you around the people of this town. They may whisper and stare but they like you, or at least they respect you, and it’s not out of fear which I suspect is the case with your father.” Suddenly Jessa laughed to herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning back on her hands and staring up at the sky.

“What?” Rhys prompted, unable to take his eyes off Jessa’s profile.

She looked down at Rhys, giving him a small, sad smile. “Sometimes I think you’d make a better king than my father, not that I condone all your actions. You’ve managed to prove to me in days you have more compassion than my father has shown my whole life, even with the atrocities you’ve committed. There’s something almost sick about that.”

Rhys stared, unable to decide if Jessa’s words were a compliment or a condemnation. “You’d make a far better queen than I’d make a king,” said Rhys, joining Jessa in her view of the sunset. “You’re more caring than I could ever hope to be and you have far less blood on your hands.”

“I don’t have the charisma to lead anyone,” Jessa grumbled, her voice growing low. “I’ve always been dull and quiet – I’d make a terrible leader.”

Jessa’s words stirred something within Rhys and he reached across the small space between them, placing his hand on hers that rested in the grass. “I don’t think you know yourself very well.” To his surprise Jessa responded to his touch, turning her hand over and allowing Rhys to lace his fingers with hers. It was a simple gesture, one of comfort and friendship, but Rhys could not help but find something tender in the motion.

“I don’t think either of us knows ourselves very well.”

**
It was quite late by the time Rhys and Jessa made their way back to the house, the servants having already lit the torches outside the entrance. They said their goodnights at the door, Jessa thanking Rhys while he simultaneously assured her there was no need for thanks. As Rhys headed for his room he passed by a study with its door ajar, peering in to see Kieran propped against a bookcase, glancing over the book held in his hand. He looked up as Rhys passed, giving Rhys a smile.

“Did you have a nice day with Jessa?” He asked, his eyebrows raising with unspoken questions.

“Yes, it was very nice,” Rhys answered with purposeful vagueness, not feeling in the mood to divulge his every thought with his uncle. Kieran groaned, shaking his head as he turned back to his breath. As Rhys made his leave he could have sworn he heard Kieran say, “it’s like watching grass grow,” under his breath, but Rhys could not understand the meaning behind the words.

As Rhys lounged about his room, trying to concentrate on the book before him, he found his mind elsewhere. He must have read the same sentence ten times over before he finally placed his book down, rising from his chair to pace the room. It was late but Rhys felt no fatigue, his mind restless with a flurry of thoughts that would not let him be. After a few minute of mindless pacing Rhys went to the basin in the corner, pulling back his hair and splashing his face with the cool water. The chill momentarily helped clear his thoughts, but it was not nearly enough to bring on any sense of calm. Suddenly Rhys paused, his eyes flickering to the door. He was not sure what drew him to that place, but Rhys found himself overtaken by a strong urge to visit it.

Quietly, sure to bring no disturbance to the house, Rhys retraced his path from the night before. As he reached the small wooden door his swore, remembering he no longer had the key. He began to turn, heading back to his room, but before he got far he stopped, turning back to the door. Hesitantly he reached out, surprised to find that the door opened at his touch. He was not alone. Rhys ascended the staircase in near silence, cringing at the squeak of the top door as he entered the pantheon. Jessa stood alone beside the altar, her hands holding onto either side of the basin. Upon hearing the creak of the door she looked up in alarm, taking a sigh of relief as she saw Rhys enter.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Rhys asked, approaching slowly. Jessa shook her head, turning back to the altar.

“There’s too much on my mind, what with Novamor and Irina.” She looked down at the empty basin, her eyes focused as if there was something there Rhys could not see.

“Is that all that’s on your mind?”

Jessa looked up in surprise, taking a sharp intake of breath upon realizing Rhys stood right beside her, his hand too resting on the altar. The moment Rhys had stopped in the hall below, turning to test the door though there was no reason it should be open, a strange feeling had come over him. He disliked the idea of fate, for such an illogical idea only gave reason to people’s sheer luck, but there was no other way Rhys could view his urge to visit the room. Had he known Jessa too would be there? Part of him said no, that there was no possible way of knowing such a thing, but another part of him said yes, that that had been what had drawn him here in the ungodly hours of the night. Perhaps it was his lack of sleep or his heightened emotions that drove his actions, but the moment he’d pressed open the unlocked door resolution set in.

Before Jessa could make a comment Rhys extended his hand, grazing Jessa’s cheekbone. He moved his hand down to her jaw, cupping one side of her face with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Jessa’s eyelids fluttered closed for a moment and Rhys felt his heartbeat accelerated, his emotions unleashed.

“Rhys,” Jessa whispered, her voice strained. Rhys paused but did not pull away, waiting for her words. When none came Jessa opened her eyes, and Rhys could see within the look they shared his own emotion mirrored in her eyes – longing. There was something else in her expression too, an emotion Rhys could not place; though from her hesitance, from the way she swallowed heavily and her chest rose and fell visibly he could make a guess.

“What are you afraid of, Jessa?”

With nothing left to say Rhys pulled Jessa’s face to his, closing the small distance between them and pressing his lips to hers. At first Jessa made no move, but after a moment of pause Rhys felt her lips respond, moving slowly against his. Rhys moved his free hand to Jessa’s waist, resting his hand there as he reveled in the kiss, feeling the softness of Jessa’s lips and the warmth of her cheek under his hand, feeling more right in that moment than he had in months.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa’s head was a muddle of thoughts from the moment Rhys kissed her. For a moment, her brain had told her to run, to get as far away from this as possible, but it had quickly been overpowered by her sudden desire to be closer. She was hyperaware of his hand on her waist, of the feeling of comfort and safety it brought her. Jessa had no idea what to do with her hands. She let them hover near his body but had managed to convince herself that whatever she did would be wrong. Although she tried to shut her head up and just think about the fact that Rhys was kissing her and she did not want him to stop, they refused to abate. She finally settled on placing her hands on his waist, which seemed to spur Rhys on. He shuffled closer, gently caressing her cheek. With so little space between them, all thoughts flew from her head. She let herself feel the gentleness of his kiss, the way he was being tentative with her in case he scared her, the intimacy of his hands upon her.

It did not take long for it to overwhelm her. Jessa had never really kissed anyone before, and certainly had never felt anything like that. She pulled away, a sudden awkwardness coming over her. Jessa looked away, but Rhys put his other hand on her cheek and pulled her gaze back to his. He shook his head.

“No, I’m not letting this be awkward,” he whispered, searching her eyes, though for what she did not know. Jessa bit her lip, feeling strange and mixed up inside, as if someone had picked her up and shaken her until she had no idea which way was up and which was down.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. There did not seem to be a place for louder voices in the hush of the room.

“You… you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Rhys said, sounding incredulous. “Seriously, Jessa, you…”

Jessa dropped her gaze, unable to look at him. She did not expect his second kiss, brief but no less frightening or wonderful than the first. Her hands, which were still resting on his waist, gripped his shirt, crumpling the white fabric. When he pulled back, he did not move far, keeping her gaze locked with his. Jessa did not know what to do. She could barely think with him so close.

“Please don’t regret this,” he said, rubbing her cheek gently with his thumb. “I won’t let you.”

Jessa opened her mouth and closed it, swallowing hard. “I… I don’t,” she said, her voice as quiet as a breath. The smile on Rhys’ face at her words was radiant. She could not help smiling back, though it was less sure and more worried. “But…”

“No, Jessa, please… stop thinking, just for a few minutes.” He pulled her into a tight embrace. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Their hearts beat irregularly against each other. The feeling of safety came over her again, even though a part of her thought it was strange that she felt protected in the arms of someone who could kill without hesitation. She swallowed and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the thoughts. He would never hurt her; she both knew it and could now feel it in the way he rubbed his nose in her hair. As for the rest, she would have to think about that when her head was clearer.

She pulled away, and on impulse touched the back of her hand to her cheek. She was quick to remove it. This was completely new territory for her and she had no idea what was the right or the wrong thing to do. She pulled away and went to the window, feeling Rhys’ hand graze her dress as he tried to keep her nearby. Jessa needed a breather. He seemed to realise that, for he left her alone for a few minutes. When he came to the window, he kept a respectable amount of space between them. From her brief glance in his direction, it looked like it was hard for him to do so.

Jessa still could not fathom how he could be looking at her like that. No longer could she dispute that he was doing, but it felt undeserved.

“You told me you still love Selene,” she said, realising only a moment later that it would probably make everything awkward. Rhys, however, smiled, seemingly refusing to let it affect him.

“I do. But I can have feelings for more than one person. Besides, whether I want to or not I can’t ever have her.” Jessa nodded. His words made her feel peculiar and she turned to look out into the darkness beyond the window. She tapped her fingers gently against the sill, finding herself unable to place the tightness in her chest. Rhys suddenly drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t mean that you’re second choice. That wasn’t what I meant at all.”

Jessa shrugged, though she now realised where her uneasiness had lain. Rhys seemed to know before she did what she was thinking. It was a little unnerving. “I… know,” she said, though she did not, not really. It made more sense, after all, if he was just settling for her because he and Selene could no longer be together. Why would he choose her when he could have Selene? If Rhys had not been forced to marry Jessa and had met her in other circumstances, he would not even have looked twice at her. Jessa knew making comparisons was unhealthy, but she could not help herself.

“You’re not second choice, Jessa,” Rhys said, closer now. She smiled at him, reaching out and taking his hand before she could think about it. Jessa squeezed it.

“I’m the only choice,” she said quietly. “You’re married to me.”

“Well, I’m not thinking of you like that,” he replied, twisting his hand so their palms were pressed together. “I’m thinking of you as the girl I can’t stop thinking about.”

Jessa blushed and averted her gaze. “That was badly worded,” she said, trying to diffuse the tension and move them away from the subject.

“Oh, sorry,” Rhys said lightly, amusement creeping into his tone. Jessa chanced a glance at him. “Should I rephrase?”

Jessa stopped him before he could; she did not need to hear it again. Even so, she smiled. The room felt suddenly as if a weight had been lifted, as if they were just friends talking again. Jessa knew that that was not true, that something had definitely shifted which she could no longer ignore or from which she could shy away. It was terrifying, but part of her wanted the change.

“I really have no idea what I’m doing right now,” she confessed, releasing Rhys’ hand and brushing hers through her hair. She laughed shakily.

“You don’t need to know. Just do whatever,” Rhys said.

“I feel like I’m doing it all wrong and I’m making a fool of myself.” She could not say why she was telling Rhys this, why she was baring everything for him, but the words spilled from her mouth. Jessa turned and hugged herself.

She felt Rhys tuck her loose hair behind her ear. “You’re not doing it wrong. There’s no wrong, not really. And you’re not making a fool of yourself – no more than I am, anyway.”

Jessa laughed under her breath. “You’ve done this before, though. I… haven’t.”