Kings of Deceit - R

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

I'm going to murder her. Rhys stabbed at his crab legs to vent his anger but they were not nearly a large enough target. Anja's chest seemed like a perfect one. Selene shot Rhys a look from the corner of her eye that indicated she'd had enough of Anja's insults for one night.

"I'm sure your mother was lovely, Jessa," Selene said, putting on a smile, "as is your mother, Anja. I don't know how Lady Vyserene does it. I would have completely lost it after having you as a child, but yet she carries on under the disappointment of it all. What a wonderful woman."

Rhys nearly choked on his crab. He coughed into his napkin, his eyes watering as he tried to compose himself. Dima didn't even attempt to pass off his laughter as choking, instead laughing loud and deep, throwing his head back in glee. Even Jessa couldn't help but smile, her lips pressed tightly together as she tried to contain it. Selene showed no reaction, continuing to poke at her food with her head held high. Anja, on the other hand, looked as if she'd been slapped.

"So, Jessa, you were saying?"

The rest of the dinner passed considerably more smoothly. Anja was never once discouraged from her verbal assault, but somehow Selene had a witty banter for each one, and by the end of the dinner Rhys's sides hurt from nearly splitting with laughter. Dima attempted at several failed jokes as well as a few innapropriate passes at Jessa. Though Jessa mostly looked disguested and irritated, after one particularly overt statement, one Rhys had called his brother out on, Dima's sharp cry and Jessa's smug expression implied she'd taken matters into her own hands - or feet - under the table.

The servants arrived on cue to clear out the meal as the Lords and Ladies were ushered into the sitting room for wine. Rhys followed their lead, walking side by side with Selene, until he turned a corner and was jerked out of the procession nearly violently.

"Wha-" Selene's hand went to his mouth, preventing him from finishing his thought. She motioned for him to be quiet and took his hand, leading him down a dark hallway. Rhys was about to ask where she was taking him and how she knew her way so well in the dark, but as he thought of the many times she'd wandered these very halls his questions seemed redundant. Soon enough they came to a plain door just outside the sleeping wing. Selene turned the knob quietly, taking extreme care to avoid attracting any of the servants as she pulled Rhys in after her. The moment the door was clicked shut was the moment all pretenses were off.

Her lips came to his immediately in a desperate, passionate kiss, her hands tangling themselves in his hair. Rhys pulled her in by the waist, feeling the curve of her back with his fingertips as they backed clumsily into the small library. He matched her enthusiasm with equal fervor, unable to kiss her deeply or quickly enough. They bumped into a table eventually and Rhys lifted Selene off the ground, setting her on the dark surface. In the brief moment in which they paused, only separating enough to look at one another, Rhys forced all of his qualms aside. Selene's fiery look, her heavy breathing, the way she leaned in to kiss his neck made him forget why he'd been opposed to any of this in the first place. Her hands pulled at his doublet, trying to quickly undo the many fastens, and Rhys worked diligently on the back of her corset, all the while they stopped their kisses only briefly. Just as Selene had managed to removed his doublet, running her hands under his shift, a creak of the door stopped them both in their tracks.

"I'm sorry for, um -" Jessa sputtered, looking flustered and shocked. She looked away constantly yet couldn't seem to move, frozen at the doorway. "I just came looking for you and... I'll go." She hastily gathered herself and slipped through the door, shutting it behind her.

"Shit."

Selene's hands were still on his chest, their bodies posed in the same way they had been when Jessa had entered, but their expressions were much altered. Rhys slowly dropped his hands from Selene's back, running them through his hair as he turned away in frustration. It was idiotic, ludicrous to have acted so rashly. Rhys could only imagine Jessa's embarrassment and mentally noted to apologize later, though he doubted that would do much good.

"Rhys, I -"

"No," he interupted, turning back to Selene. He cupped her face softly, moving with all the gentleness he'd not used in their moment of thoughtless passion. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm so sorry that any of this had to happen. So, so sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. This was not your idea, I know that. Neither of us wanted this. Damn!" She brought her hands to her face, hiding her eyes. "I hate your damned father. I hate him!"

"What are we going to do?" Rhys asked softly, his fingers tracing mindlessly on the back of Selene's hand.

"I'd do it, you know. I'd be your mistress."

Rhys was taken aback. "You couldn't."

"Why not? It's not like all the other families don't do it. The Paryet's have had lovers for years and no one cares. It was an arranged marriage, just something political, nothing more. We could do that."

"No, we couldn't. I don't want that. I can't want that."

"Why not? Don't bring up some stupid moral reason either because I know for damned sure that that's not your problem. You've never cared about such stupid moral reasons."

"No, it's not that," Rhys's voice cracked and he could feel the tears brimming in his eyes despite his best attempts to repress them. "You'll be married in a year or two and will possibly live somewhere else. We'll rarely see each other and when we do it will only be in these formal situations, these situations in which we must bow and scrape and follow the rules of formality. I don't want us to have to hide and sneak around like petty thieves. I want you to have the chance to find someone you love, someone you can be happy with."

"But I'm happy with you," Selene whispered, her voice wavering.

Rhys drew her in, holding her close to his chest as she pressed his lips to her forehead. "And I with you, but you deserve a chance. There is hope for you yet. I will not be the last man you love."

A sob ripped through the air, but Rhys was not sure from whom it came. They sat in the dark, holding each other close for an indiscernable amount of time, Rhys playing with Selene's curls and her arms wrapped around his waist. When they both grew quiet and still Selene pulled away, her face more composed than Rhys knew his to be.

"Fine," she said, her voice dull and quiet. "But if I am to move on then you must move on to. You must make an attempt to love her."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can, it's only fair if I must do the same." Selene insisted. She straightened up, fumbling with her dress and attempting to fix her hair. "My offer still stands, but until then at least promise me we may remain friends. I am much to close to all of you for awkward civility. Oh, and if I ever hear of you taking another mistress I will personally come destroy you."

[/font][/blockquote]

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

She had become that woman. The betrayed wife. Jessa paced the small, dark corridor she had found on her aimless wander, feeling like a fool. The corridor reminded her more of home than any other place in the strange house, and though she did not like the idea of someone – Dima – coming across her in such a confined space, she had nowhere else to go. In the darkness, she was lost. And she needed somewhere quiet to think.

Jessa honestly did not care that Rhys was in love with another woman. Selene was welcome to him. But that Rhys had not told her his intentions, that he would leave her open to ridicule if the relationship was ever discovered because Jessa could not say she had agreed to it – that stung a little. It may just have been that Jessa wanted to talk to Rhys first and was upset that things had not turned out how she wanted. She supposed she should be used to that by now. She was miles from home, expected to attend dinner parties where she should be elegant and polite, instead of hiding away in her university, devouring the knowledge of past times. She was motherless.

She sucked in a breath, hating the direction her thoughts were taking her. Her mother’s death was like a gaping hole in her chest, one she had never tried to mend. Jessa, as a child, had just pushed it away for another time and buried herself into her studies. Today was not the time for tending such wounds. Leaning her forehead against the wall, she breathed deeply until the sadness passed, leaving only the lingering feeling to which she had grown accustomed.

Finally, she forced herself to leave the corridor, grateful no one had come upon her as they were too busy drinking wine. Though she was lost, Jessa tried to navigate through the hallways logically. Eventually, she found herself outside the room where she had found Rhys and Selene. Turning away from the mocking door, Jessa walked away. She thought she knew her way from here. The hum of voices and the tinkle of laughter reached her ears as she drew nearer to the sitting room. Light from the candle sconces flooded the central hallway. Jessa sighed in relief. The Marinon house was far more confusing by night.

She glanced at the sitting room door and then decided against going inside. All she would face was stilted conversation and quiet whispers. Her outburst had been heard by everyone, as had Anja’s announcement about Jessa’s mother. Jessa could not face that yet. Briefly she considered going to bed, but instead she sat at the bottom of the stairs. She wanted to speak to Rhys before the night was out.

When Rhys and Selene emerged from the corridor, they were no longer holding hands. In fact, they remained at a platonic distance from each other. Jessa stood. “Rhys.”

The pair looked over at her. Selene moved in and gently squeezed Rhys’s hand before going to the sitting room. Rhys and Jessa watched each other warily. Suddenly, Jessa could not think of anything to say. She fiddled with her sleeve.

The unease in the air grew. Just as Rhys was about to speak, words Jessa did not care to hear, she found her voice. “If you want to be with Selene, I won’t stop you.”

Rhys stared at her. Unexpectedly, his blank expression flickered for a moment, showing the sadness he was hiding underneath. “I’m not going to be with Selene.”

Jessa opened her mouth and then snapped it closed. She let her hand drop onto the balustrade, unsure what to say next. Uselessly, she said, “Oh.”

“We decided it was best we move on. It’s no life for Selene,” Rhys explained. Jessa put a hand up to stop him.

“I don’t need to know the details. That’s between the two of you. Just…if you both change your mind, let me know first, please… I’d rather not walk in on you again,” she added awkwardly.

Rhys nodded, clearly wanting the conversation over. He glanced longingly at the sitting room door. “Are you coming in?”

“I suppose I should,” she sighed, following him into the room.

Instantly she was accosted by Dima, whose cloying breath made her want to gag. She could smell the wine on him; already he had drunk far more than he should. He smiled at her, his eyes raking her body in a way that made her want to flee. She stepped back.

“Oh, stop fighting me, Jessa.”

“Leave me alone.” Her voice wavered. She remembered his suggestive comments over dinner and wanted to vomit.

“You need to loosen up. Have some wine,” he suggested, shoving a glass in her face. Jessa glared at him and pushed the glass away. She had no idea what he might have done to it. And after her wedding night, Jessa did not want to touch more than a drop of wine ever again.

“Leave. Me. Alone.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Jessa's outburst rung out in the room for all to hear, bringing all conversations to a halt. Several of the older guests whispered quietly to one another in concern while Selene and her sisters did not seem at all surprised. Rhys looked quickly to his mother and father for reactions. Erik sighed heavily, taking a long drink from his cup in what was surely an effort to subduing his boiling anger. Vyserene appeared unfazed, nodding towards Dima in a silent command for Rhys. He nodded back, his own thoughts on the same page.

"Will you stop making a scene!" He hissed, pulling Dima away with a tug. "You're drunk and acting like a fool."

If Dima was remorseful he did not show it. He swayed slightly, blinking rapidly at his own unbalance and attempting to straighten himself. "She's no fun." He sulked like a petulant child, crossing his arms and spilling his drink on the floor.

Rhys turned to Jessa, assessing her reaction. Her body trembled and her lips were tight, showing all the signs of surprised rage. "Are you all right?" He asked. Jessa nodded hesitantly, her eyes flickering towards Dima constantly, wary of his movement.

"She's too damn touchy." Dima's words were slurred and his balance uncordinated but his intentions were clear in the flash of his eyes, and that one thing sent Rhys over the edge.

Without warning he gripped Dima by the arm, dragging him forcefully from the room. Dima tried resisting, uselessly attempting to wiggle out of Rhys's grip, but Rhys was far too determined to let him go. He made a beeline for the courtyard behind the manor, throwing open the double doors and shoving Dima to the cold stone ground. At first Dima was dazed, feeling his way around the slates in the dark, but gradually he gained some sense, coming to his feet and approaching Rhys with a drunken stagger. The closer he came the more sure Rhys was that Dima was attempting to take the offense, pulling his arm back, but Rhys was both sober and furious and therefore had the upper hand.

The blow forced Dima to the ground again, this time clutching at his face in anguish. He moaned, feeling around his mouth in a way that indicated he was checking for missing teeth. He rose again, too intoxicated to be disuaded with a single punch. Unfortunately for him his luck did not change, and Rhys, feeling much too satisfied with the last hit, kicked out hard, his foot making impact with Dima's stomach and sending him reeling. Dima collapsed instantly, clutching at his belly as he heaved onto the ground in a disgusting display. Rhys could not so easily be phased. He kneeled beside Dima, pulling him up by the collar.

"If you ever mistreat another woman as you have mistreated Jessa I will personally make sure you do not move for a week, are we understood? You have no right to harass her or anyone in such a manner. Women are not your playthings, you sick bastard."

Looking as though he was ready to puke once more, Rhys released his brother, shoving him away in repulsion. As he got up and turned back towards the house he saw Jessa standing at the doors, watching the exchange from afar. Perhaps he expected her to be uncharacteristically kind and forgiving, but Rhys was surprised to see no feeling in her cold expression. She glared at Dima's pathetic, writhing form with a look that could kill, looking as if her only regret was that she was not the one to do the attacking.

"You're sure you're alright?" Rhys asked. Jessa did not answer, still fixated on Dima's convulsions. Needing no other cue, Rhys exited through the double doors, feeling no guilt for the pleasure he just experienced.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

***

Jessa sat at her desk lost in thought. The parchment was blank in front of her, save for a single line: ‘Dear Alistair.’ She glanced down, and realising her pen was still dipped in the inkwell, she pulled it out sharply. A splatter of blank ink fell onto the paper and she cursed. Jessa dabbed at it lightly to get rid of the worst of it. Now focused, she put the pen to paper and began to write.

Dear Alistair,

I hope life has been well in Ovis these past couple of weeks. I am slowly adjusting to the change of pace in Jasrah. Everything is so different here: the food, the people, the weather. The university has let me join their staff, so at least one part of my new life is familiar. It is a beautiful place, set on its own island, though it does not have the same majesty as Ovis University. Perhaps you would not enjoy it here – the main form of transport is boat, and I know you despise the ocean. I suppose, then, that I will not see you for a long time.

The Marinons are treating me better than I expected. There have been a few incidents I would rather not discuss, but overall they have left me to myself. I can find nothing remiss in their behaviour. They are, perhaps, a little too free with their fists amongst themselves, but that is all.

I apologise for the brevity of this letter. There really is very little to say. I shall write to you in a few weeks, when I may have more to tell you.

Your friend,

Jessa

She sighed, dropping the pen to the desk. The letter felt inadequate, but she could think of nothing better. Anything else she had wanted to say she had forgotten. She folded the letter inside an envelope, sealing it with hot wax, on which she imprinted the Marinon seal. Jessa leaned back in her chair for a moment and then stood, tucking the envelope into the pocket on her dress.

As she wandered down the corridor, she saw Dima. He looked at her warily, his face still bruised from Rhys’s attack on the first day. Jessa ignored him and sidled past. Though he had made no moves towards her in the last two weeks, she did not believe it was over with him. She occasionally thought she saw him looking at her speculatively out of the corner of her eye, but whenever she turned to him fully he was engrossed in something else. No one else seemed to notice his actions. Jessa pushed it out of her mind.

Rhys was waiting for her at the entrance. The day before they had arranged to go into Jasrah to run errands, though Rhys had not divulged what he would be doing. Thinking about it, Jessa should have left her letter to another day in case she managed to find out what he was doing, but then she would have had no excuse for coming along.

“You like to keep people waiting, don’t you,” Rhys teased. Jessa’s face did not twitch.

“Let’s get going then.”

By now, Jessa was used to the boat. It rocked and lurched with the waves, but she had learned to roll with the movements. The sickness she had felt in the beginning no longer affected her. She enjoyed watching the water twinkle in the sun, and searching for fish swimming below the surface. Once, she had glimpsed a whale in the distance. It was peaceful on the water, a place she was beginning to love almost as much as her window seat, where she would read, and her old university.

When them disembarked on the harbour, leaving the boatman to moor the boat, Jessa asked, “How long do you think you will take?”

“I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. Shall I meet you back here?”

Jessa nodded. Rhys left without looking back at her, which was in her favour. She loitered on the pier for a few moments, keeping her gaze locked on his back, and then followed. There was no telling if this meeting held any importance, but Jessa would not let any possibilities slip through her fingers. The King may have told her to spy on the family, and she may be following his orders, but she was not doing it for his benefit. She could not care less if the Marinons wanted to usurp the King. She just wanted the family’s disreputable business stopped, if indeed the rumours were true. After witnessing the way the siblings punched and hurt each other, she had no doubts of their truth. She just had to prove it.

So, keeping a safe distance and people between them, Jessa tailed Rhys through the winding streets of Jasrah.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

The task was almost too easy. Rhys kept at a brisk pace, not to make Jessa think he was being particularly secretive but rather to make her walk faster for his own amusement. For a woman who'd shown herself to be remarkably intelligent she certainly forgot who she was dealing with very quickly. Rhys had spent his whole life being tailed and observed from a far, watched constantly by spies and rats; he'd grown so used to the ordeal that putting on a facade was almost second nature. How Jessa had ever thought that he would not be aware of her intentions was beyond Rhys, but her slip of mind certainly made his task easier.

Though Rhys could not hear nor see Jessa in the distance he was aware she was there. Her eagerness to accompany her to town, her earnest attention when listening in on his conversations: none of it was subtle enough to escape his notice. He'd conferenced with his mother and father over the content of today's meeting, working to spin the most delicate and careful of lies, words that would raise no alarm to their false nature. Rhys smiled to himself as he turned the corner to see Lord Paryet waiting for him outside the tavern. Let the games commence.

"How do you do, Lord Rhys?" The man greeted, shaking Rhys's hand as he approached.

"Fine, fine. Another dull day, as usual."

"Good to hear that. We wouldn't want anything to get exciting, would we? Why don't we take a seat?" Lord Paryet motioned Rhys inside the tavern, placing one arm around Rhys's shoulders and with the other slipping a discreet note into Rhys's palm.

The men found a table in the middle of the room, one with enough chatter surrounding it to drown out any listeners but at a time still quiet enough for Jessa to hear when she inevitably made her appearance. Both Rhys and Lord Paryet ordered ale and a simple loaf of bread with cheese, allowing themselves to fill their stomachs before they began their chat, and allowing Jessa enough time to sneak in. When she finally made her appearance it was with such caution that Rhys almost missed her entirely. He worked very hard to keep from looking her way but just once allowed his eyes to dart quickly to the side, just to assure himself that it was she who sat several tables away.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me, Lord Paryet?" Rhys began, speaking just a little louder than he might have in legitimate circumstances. Lord Paryet took the hint but did so with delicacy, only raising his voice enough to not attract suspicion.

"The cargo will arrive in Ovis in three days time - we could not expidite the process any more."

"And its worth?"

"More than my own fortune, that is certain. That is not important, though. Hidden in the yellow silks in a small box containing several vials of hemlock."

"Poison?"

"Precisely. I've taken your orders to distribute the vials to your men stationed in Ovis. They're aware of whom the hemlock is for and how they must use it."

"And the man who will distribute the box, is he who I insisted on?"

"Yes, your father instructed him on his appearance already. He'll meet the men at the docks when the ship arrives at dawn. He'll be wearing a dark green clock for reference. When the poison has been distributed he will send you word, and from there you may send word when it is to be used."

"Excellent, thank you, Lord Paryet." Rhys smiled, reaching across the table and shaking the Lord's hand once more.

"It is my duty, my Lord. Send my thanks to your father."

Rhys nodded and bid the man farewell and the two departed, Rhys to the left and Lord to the right. He quickly dipped into a bookshop, fast enough that Jessa had no chance of seeing where he had gone. He took a thin volume from the shelf and, with his back to the shelf, opened the note inside the book.

Rhys,
The man in the green cloak will be Celorn. He was instructed that his help in our business would grant him his pardon. It looks like he'll be in for a bit of a shock when he's arrested and executed by the King's Guard.

- The Crow

Slipping the note into his shirt and placing the book back on the shelf, Rhys headed back to the docks, a smile on his face. It was almost too easy.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

As she meandered aimlessly through the streets, she thought over the conversation she had heard. It was clear that the hemlock was meant for someone, and Jessa could guess who they might have been talking about. But would they be so brazen to target the King like that? Jessa was not sure. Still, it was something she should report straight away.

They had spoken too loudly. The idea would not leave her head. Jessa bit her lip, stopping in the middle of the street. She moved to the side and leaned heavily against the wall, looking up at the turquoise sky as if it would give her inspiration. The thought did not stop nagging at her. If anyone had listened carefully enough they would have heard them over the chatter of the pub patrons. For a discussion such as that, Jessa would have expected them to take more precautions. So was it a ruse?

She was a novice to spying, by no means infallible and against people who had been concealing and deceiving for years. It was possible they had seen her coming and had fabricated a story. But it was something so easily checked; would they really feed her such obviously fake information, whether they knew she was there or not? Could she forgive herself if she did not report it and the knowledge was in fact correct? She may not like the King, but she did not wish his death.

Regardless of the truth of it, she had to tell Alistair and the King what she knew. If it came to nothing, then so be it. She would know not to trust anything she overheard again. Of course, she should not have confidence in the Marinons anyway. The real certainties she would find by other means.

The only matter left to consider, now she had decided her course of action, was how she could get the letter there on time. She really only had today to get it to them, but she did not have the time in the day to return to the house to seal another envelope. Straightening, Jessa asked a nearby passer-by where the nearest postal office was, and then set off in that direction.

The bell tinkled when she entered. A woman glanced up with her eyes but kept her face downwards. She laboriously finished the final flick of her pen and then looked up enthusiastically. “How can I help?”

“Do you have any spare parchment, and a larger envelope for this?” She held out the letter for Alistair, the address written clearly on the front. The woman frowned.

“You cannot send it as it is?”

“I need to add something.” Really, it was none of this woman’s business. With a heaving sigh, the woman made a huge show and fuss of standing and returning with a spare bit of paper and an envelope. Jessa thanked her and sat on one of the chairs in the corner. Propping the paper against the wall, she quickly scribbled out what she had learned in the pub, trying to keep as vague as possible in case the letter was intercepted. She had no doubt that the Marinons would be watching all her correspondences and she ought not trust the postal office either. When she was satisfied that it was nonsense to anyone but Alistair, who could share it with the King, she dropped it and the previous letter in the large envelope, and took it to the woman to seal.

“Can you make sure it is sent today?”

With assurances that it would be sent with the next sack of letters, Jessa left. She went back to the marina via the market, browsing some of the stalls on her way past. She bought a blueberry muffin, a local delicacy in Jasrah – one of the few new food she had been introduced to that she thoroughly enjoyed. She bit into it as she walked, spying Rhys waiting for her by the boat.

“Are you finished?” she inquired, when she reached him, finishing the last of the muffin and rubbing her hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

He nodded. “I see you enjoyed yourself.”

“I try to get what I can. I have few other pleasures in my life.” They both looked away, her words bringing them both discomfort. Jessa was too good at doing that.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

"A letter, my Lord."

Light poured into Rhys's bed chambers through the opened curtains. He groaned, rolling onto his side and covering his head with a spare pillow. Why must Avis be so enthusiastic about mornings? If Rhys had charge of the house his first call would be to ban any of the servants from waking before nine - it was simply cruel. Avis coughed quietly, urging Rhys to take notice, and with this Rhys gave in, rolling out of bed with litte enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Avis," he grumbled, taking the letter in his left and and a clean shift in the other. He dressed slowly and lazily, not bothering to don a doublet. It was morning after all, and who really got dressed before afternoon? After calling for coffee Rhys decided to attend to the letter, figuring another morning of dull business could not be put off any longer. However, when he turned over the letter and read the name his mood changed rather quickly. The Crow, it read in large, curled letters, the ink bleeding rather badly as if the quill had been held in the same spot for too long. Rhys quickly tore off the envelope, drawing the parchment from inside. He scanned it quickly, grinning as he took in the news. Just for once he would be pleased to speak with his father.

Rhys made his way to the breakfast room quickly, forgetting all about his state of disarray. When he entered with haste, heading straight for his father, several of the maids stared on unabashedly, giggling quietly to themselves.

"Good gods, Rhys, would it kill you to dress yourself?" Anja sneered, shaking her head in disdain as she took a sip of coffee.

"Somehow I think you'll live," Rhys retorted, rolling his eyes. He looked briefly at Jessa as he passed, noting how she watched him carefully, suspicious of his high spirits. Lord Erik looked up from his papers strewn before him, his expression impassive.

"Yes?"

Rhys drew in close, leaning into his ear. "Celorn is dead. They took the bait."

Lord Erik sat a little straighter, his eyes now trained on the letter Rhys held. He motioned for it and Rhys delivered it into his hand, watching as his father took it in slowly, marking each word.

"Good, good," he smiled, a rare look of pleasure from the generally stern man. "The king will be furious, no doubt. Duped once again; it must get tiring to constantly be fooled. Celorn said nothing and the men were oblivious?"

"Not a thing. We chose the men well. They'll get off a bit easier for their ignorance, not that we really care, but Celorn got exactly what he deserved. There was no escaping that one."

Lord Erik looked at his son with what appeared to be a sense of pride, but the look vanished almost as soon as it had appeared. He took back to his papers, waving Rhys away with his spare hand. Rhys was still exceedingly pleased, unfazed by his father's coolness. He took a seat beside Jessa, helping himself to the platters of food before him.

"Good morning," he greeted with a smile. As he reached for a biscuit he set the letter open between himself and Jessa, turning it at just the right angle so that he was sure she could read it. He preoccupied himself with the vast array of jams before him, starting up a banal argument as to the superiority of raspberry to apricot with Dima, all the while keeping his peripheral trained on Jessa. She at first tried to ignore the letter, keeping to herself, but soon the temptation became to strong. She glanced quickly at it at first, but then, after realizing no one was watching her, moved it closer, reading it with narrowed eyes. The moment of comprehension was obvious. Jessa stiffened, color draining from her face in an instant. She stared down at her plate quietly, unmoving.

"Something wrong?" Rhys asked casually.

"No, nothing's wrong." Jessa said quietly. "Nothing at all."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

She had got an innocent man killed. There was definitely something very wrong. She clutched the tablecloth, her fingers going as white as her cheeks. She needed to get out, to think, to breathe. It felt like she was a fish in a bowl, all eyes watching her greedily for a sign of her humanity and guilt. Jessa tried to exhale, but she only looked pained.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Rhys asked, sounding far too cheerful.

Jessa stood abruptly, her chair screeching on the stone floor. Erik and Vyserene, the only two who had not been eyeing her speculatively, turned to see the commotion. She waited there for a moment, helplessly glancing around the room. She mumbled, “I have to go,” and fled.

The door swung shut with a finality that nearly made her break down. She collapsed against the wall, hidden behind a statue of some Marinon ancestor in case anyone dared look for her. Curling up into a ball, Jessa pressed her face against her light blue dress and began to sob. She did not even try to stop it, just let herself cry into her clothes and ball her hands tightly in the cloth. She pulled enough that she heard it rip at the bottom, but she did not care.

A man had died because of her. She had chosen wrongly, when she had had her doubts, and that decision had ended someone’s life. Jessa had never wanted the power of life and death on her shoulders, and now it weighted so heavily on her she thought she would plummet through the ground. If it did, then so be it; choking on soil would feel better than this. Even as she cried herself to exhaustion she knew she was being ridiculous, but the thoughts did not stop. She could not calm down.

She heard the door open only by the gently sound of it scuffing on the marble floor. Jessa tucked herself closer into the wall and held her breath, trying to stifle her tears. She peered through sticky eyelashes between the statue and wall, and saw a man’s leg through the gap.

Oh, please let it not be Rhys. Or Dima. Let them just go past.

Her body betrayed her as a muffled sob escaped her lips. The man twisted around, trying to work out where the sound was coming from, and then headed towards Jessa’s hiding place. Whoever it was, they could not see her in such a state. Gathering her torn dress, she clambered to her feet and ran, concealing her red, blotchy face behind her red hair.

One thing she would never let the Marinons see was her tears, or her shock at the things they had done.

Her feet took her outside. She found herself standing before the rowboats she had seen every day but had not ventured towards. Though she had no idea what she was doing, she clambered into one of them, sniffing occasionally, and gripped the sides as it swayed on the surface. She glanced around for the oars, and fumbled to get them into place when she had found them. Jessa had no idea what she was doing as she began rowing out. The ocean was calm, but her movements were not. She nearly capsized, her heart racing, but her mind gradually cleared of anything except the feel of the oars slapping against the water. Eventually she found a rhythm, and her journey to the rocks on the other side was slightly smoother.

The boat knocked against the side and she stopped. Wobbling on her feet, Jessa climbed out of the boat and lay down on the slippery rock. She stared up at the morning sky, watching the few clouds dance across the sky without any cares in the world. At that moment, more than nearly any other, Jessa wished she was someone else, someone with a different life.

Her tears, now, felt foolish. Everything in the last few weeks had piled down upon her in that moment, and that letter had been the tipping point, but now her mind was emptier again. There was still so much guilt in her heart, but she tried to tell herself that the executed man had not been entirely faultless. He may have been innocent of the charges that got him killed, but to be wanted dead by the Marinons meant he must have moved in some dangerous circles. It did not do much for making her feel better, since she wished death on no one, but she tried to let it dispel the last of her heartache. She sighed.

Jessa wanted this day over, yet it had barely begun.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

Record books and spare parchment were littered all across the library, positively burying Rhys in a pile of nonsense. How he had ever become so unorganized was beyond him, but there was no denying his state of disarray.

"Why can't we let the servants in to pick things up?" He moaned, opening yet another book of loan records and throwing it aside when seeing it was five years old. "That's what we pay them for."

"You know why we don't let them in; it's for security. Now stop whining and find me the book." Vyserene frowned, looking through her own stack of volumes nearly as tall as she. Rhys sighed, resigning himself to his work. It felt as if they'd been searching for hours for the blasted book and had yet to be successful in its recovery. As to why they needed it was beyond Rhys, but he found that arguing with his mother rarely got him anywhere.

"You know, I could always go get the other copy from the vaults. That's why we make a back up in the first place," Rhys offered, picking up the keyring from the desk and dangling it in front of him. His mother shook her head, waving it away without a word. Frustrated, Rhys took his seat again, pulling up a sheet of sums and putting his attention to that. If his mother wanted the book so badly she could find it herself.

"Ah!" She exclaimed suddenly. From a small jumbled collection of copies lying on the floor she pulled a large leather-bound volume, one with the family crest stamped into the cover. "I knew it was here somewhere." She opened the book, flipping through the pages dismissively, barely taking time to scan their contents. At last she came upon something of interest, pressing the book open and pointing at the middle of the page.

"Look at this," she ordered, ushering Rhys over. He joined his mother, looking down at the lines of scrawl she pointed at.

"It's a contract - what of it?"

"It's not just any contract, look more closely."

Rhys complied, leaning down over the desk and reading through the monotonous lines. There was a name that was unfamiliar to Rhys followed by a list of other names, some of which caught his attention. Beneath all the names were a long list of signatures, each with a dark red splotch stained over them. The parchment crinkled in a strange way at those spots, unlike that of an ink dot, and Rhys knew instantly what he was looking at.

"It's a blood contract," Rhys said with surprise, leaning in more closely to inspect the names.

Vyserene nodded. "And the names, do they look familiar?"

"Some of them, yes. Others, like the large one printed at top, do not. What is this? Why are you showing this to me? What's the relevance?"

"Othedel, the man at the top, was a good ally of ours many years ago. He's a powerful merchant in Ovis but does much of his work elsewhere, traveling from place to place. Black market work, if I may add, not that we deal with much legal work. A few years ago a group of his closest partners and him made a deal with us, one contracted in blood. You know how blood contracts work, yes?" Rhys nodded. "In exchange for their loyalty and secrecy, providing us with a large spy network in Ovis, we provided them with the funds they needed to expand their business. However, last year one of the men was caught and tortured and he revealed certain information about the contract we'd rather not have as public knowledge. Since then Othedel and many of the others have been on the run. Of course, as you know, if one person breaks the rules of a blood contract the entire contract is forfeit. All of them now must face the consequences."

"But why did you need the book?"

Vyserene traced the dots of blood with her fingertips, staring down at them with concentration. "This needs to be taken to Merai. She was the one who made the contract, she can use the blood to trace them all. From there we can track them down and weed them out of their holes. Several of the names, the ones you recognized, had the good sense to not flee like dogs. Your father may show them mercy, though I doubt Anja will."

Rhys pictured the various punishments that awaited those miserable wretches and shuddered, picturing the look of glee on Anja's face she'd surely have while hunting down the traitors.

"I still don't understand why this is relevant to me."

Vyserene smiled. "I want you to deliver the book to Merai."

Rhys froze, struck with unease for the first time in a long time. There were few people who put Rhys on edge quite like Merai. She was a powerful mage, one who possessed powers that were not only outlawed and tabooed but which she used liberally and for questionable purposes. She was refined and regal but with a wild edge brewing beneath that could scare even Anja. Despite his concerns, Rhys knew he had no choice. He took the book hesitantly from his mother's hands, carrying it like it might burst into flames at any second. Just as Rhys was about to take leave his mother called out to him, causing him to pause.

"Oh, and take Jessa with you. Do not tell her what this is about, but still, take her with. I'd like her to meet Merai. Perhaps she'll be a little less liberal with her reports to her dear father after that meeting."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

Jessa carefully made her way down the natural arch from the cliff top to the rocks where the boat waited. After her morning sitting on the grassy tops, watching the horizon and the boats sailing towards the docks, she felt much calmer. Settling herself back into the boat and rowing to the other side, she planned her day. She knew she had to keep away from the house for a while, for the rooms suffocated her, so she supposed she could go to the university for the day. As she reached the other side, she considered even spending the night there. Her plans were ruined once she turned and got out of the boat. Rhys was there, waiting for her.

“I’ve been looking for you. Come on, we’re going to visit a friend.”

Jessa glared at him and stalked past. Over her shoulder, “I’d rather stay here, thank you very much.”

Rhys followed her back into the house, where she practically ran up the stairs and towards her bedroom. She slammed the door in his face.

“It’s someone the family really wants you to meet,” Rhys wheedled from the other side of the door. Jessa ignored him, going to her armoire and changing her dress. She jumped onto her window seat and, after opening the window to let the cool sea air in, picked up her book. It was not the same as going to the university, but it was the next best thing.

Rhys persisted as she tried to read. Though she narrowed her eyes on the page in focus, Jessa could not stop hearing Rhys’s voice. Eventually, she groaned and slithered down from her seat. She slouched over to the door, but did not open it.

“Jessa?” Rhys asked, midway through an appeal. She let him wait and stew for a moment.

“I’m not part of your family, Rhys, except in name. I honestly do not care what they want me to do. I do not want any role in your family’s schemes; I want to stay here and work on my research. The thing I care about.”

“I have to leave now and I want you to come with me. Open the door.”

Jessa sighed and refrained from banging her head against the door. Why could he not leave her alone; she needed to be alone. She did not want his slimy, self-satisfied, sadistic person anywhere near her. “Go. Away.”

“We’re meeting a mage called Merai. From what I have heard, some of your research is about magic. Perhaps she could help you.” Jessa’s blood thrummed with excitement. Jessa was fairly sure she detected a lie in his words but the prospect of meeting a real mage was tempting. She tried to hold her ground, since she really did not wish to spend any time more than necessary with Rhys. Her very words were coming back to bite her: she loved her research, and this was something that could push it a little farther forward. Jessa bit her lip, at war with herself.

Eventually, she caved, and opened the door. “On the conditions that you keep your distance and do not speak to me more than you have to, I’ll come. And after this, I want as little to do with your family as possible. I am only coming because I have wanted to speak to a mage for a great many years, just to make things clear.”

“I’m sure you’ll…find it very enlightening,” he said hesitatingly, as they began to walk down the hallway. Jessa glared at him in warning, and thankfully he said no more. His words had unsettled her, however, and she wondered if she had made yet another big mistake. It was turning into a bit of a pattern.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

It did not both Rhys that he was hated, for he was widely hated by many, but it did bother him that he was hated by Jessa. Despite his callous actions towards her he wished they could remain neutral towards one another, though he was very aware of the contradiction within that thought. Still, being married to someone who so distasted him and his family was rather exhausting, no matter how little they saw one another.

They returned to house, boarding the boat that awaited them outside the manor, manned by a single servant. As they sailed through the arches in the cliffs towards the city center Rhys watched Jessa, noting how she took good care to never look at him. She sat as far from him as possible, her body turned away from his and her eyes focused on the distant horizon. She was upset about the execution - her abrupt exit at breakfast had assured that - and for a fleeting moment Rhys felt something unfamiliar. Guilt? He quickly brushed it away. He had been taught as a child to never feel guilt. Guilt was for the weak. Besides, Rhys had no reason to feel guilty. Jessa had attempted to spy upon the Marinon's, to beat them at their own game. Showing her the impossibility of that task was a necessity, no matter the cost.

When the boat began to approach the main docks Jessa began to shift, anxious to get up, but as the boat passed on she froze, looking around in confusion.

"I thought we were going to the city?" She asked.

"It's a little out of the way," Rhys answered cryptically. He toyed with the book out of boredom, flipping through the pages at random. Jessa watched with interest, peering over best she could from her distance.

"What is that?" She asked.

Rhys smiled. "That's not your concern. I thought you didn't want to speak with me?" Jessa pressed her lips together, angry at her own slip up and returning to her solitude.

Several minutes later they cleared the part of the coast where most of Jasrah sat, passing several jutting rocks to a small cove just outside the inner city. It was an odd place, more secluded than even the Marinon home and surrounded by some of the larger cliffs in Jasrah that towered over the small village like foreboding guardians. Jessa seemed to feel Rhys's same unease, clutching at her skirts absentmindedly. The servant stopped the boat at a small dock, allowing Rhys and Jessa to get out.

"This way," he motioned, pointing towards the manor at the back of the cluster of homes, the one that sat in the shadow o the cliffs. If Jessa felt any concern she would not show it, following Rhys in his wake. Rhys reached the edge of the property and came to a quick halt, suddenly unable to move his feet. He tried walking again but his feet were glued to the spot, unwilling to budge and inch. He groaned, glaring up at the dark house.

"Merai, I bring news from Lady Vyserene," he called, more irritated than angry with being forced to stoop to yelling. Suddenly the force that had been keeping Rhys in his spot released him and he stumbled forward, thrown off balance. Jessa shot him a quick look of concern, she too having been taken by surprise at this odd force, but she did not say anything. As they approached the front door it creaked open on its own accord, the light filtering through the windows illuminating the entrance. Rhys entered with apprehension, checking around himself in paranoia.

"Merai?"

"Yes?"

"GAH!" Rhys shuddered, Merai's breath still hot on his neck. "I wish you wouldn't do that every time," he hissed, turning to face the woman. She laughed, but the sound was not a pleasant one. It caused the hairs on Rhys neck to stand up, a sound sure to shake even the strongest.

"Oh, Rhys," she murmured,"your family certainly does put on a strong face. Yet every time you are here..." she trailed off, raising one thin eyebrow with a smirk. Merai was tall, nearly as tall as Rhys, and her frame was exceedingly thin. She extended two frail-looking hands towards Rhys, not bothering to ask as she took the book from his grasp.

"Blood contract?" Though she framed it as a question it was clear that she already knew the answer. She flipped through the pages with ease, or rather they seemed to flip themselves - Rhys was never sure with Merai if magic was involved. She walked as she looked, ushering Rhys and Jessa further inside. They made their way to a small sitting room, one with very little natural lighting and very sparce seating. Most of Merai's home was like this, a strange mix of empty and cramped, if such a mixture could exist. Rhys prefered not to sit, instead standing at Merai's side as she took a seat in a plush armchair, dropping the book onto the table.

"Oh, these fools," she snarled, come across the page. "Broke your word, did they? I knew it the moment they made the pledge. Weak, disgusting things." She pressed her palm to the page with the blood and her eyelids fluttered closed. Rhys shuddered, watching her eyeballs move quickly behind her thin eyelids, running side to side as if she was reading. Jessa gasped, bringing Rhys's attention to the paper. Merai had removed her hand from the parchment and beneath it the blood that had once stained the sheet had once again turned to droplets, fresh as if it was newly drawn. She pressed her hand to the blood once again, smearing it in her palm. Jessa gagged, her eyes wide though still transfixed on the image. Rhys was certainly not unfamiliar with blood, but this strange use of the substance made Rhys uneasy. Merai sighed, bringing her bloody palm to her face. For a moment Rhys thought she was going to lick it, but at the last moment she turned her palm away from her face, the blood suddenly gone. Her eyes shot open, her expression strangely serene for someone who'd just manipulated human substance. She rattled off several city names along with names of listed men and women, the words coming out so quickly that Rhys could only hope he would remember them all, When she finished she look upon Rhys with a more human expression, cocking her head.

"Will that be all?" She asked, her face expressionless. Before Rhys could utter an answer Merai's head snapped to the side, her attention suddenly drawn to Jessa as if she only noticed she'd been sitting there.

"Who is this one?" She hissed, coming to her feet. She circled Jessa like a vulture, inspecting her with her dark, narrowed eyes.

"This is Jessa, my wife," he answered calmly, attempting to mask his own shock at Merai's behavior. Such hostility was unusual, even from her.

Merai's face suddenly contorted into one of rage, completely unprecedented. Jessa was thrown against the back wall though no force had touched her, her body flying like a rag doll. She hit with a thud, though the speed had not been enough to knock her out. Jessa was thouroughly shocked, her hands moving quickly to her head, a look of horror as she pulled her fingers away coated in blood.

"What are you doing?" Rhys yelled, too shocked to move.

Merai's murderous expression had not softened and she appeared to have stopped breathing, standing like a statue. Suddenly Jessa's hands flew to her throat, clutching and gasping for air as if she was being choked. She tried to scream, clawing at her throat, but no sound came out.

"Stop it!" Rhys screamed, grabbing Merai's arm and shaking it. She did not stop her actions, continuing her unprecedented torture. Rhys drew his sword, placing it at Merai's neck. "Do not hurt her," he hissed into her ear, putting the blade dangerously close to the jugular. Jessa's frantic gasps stopped, her breath returning to her. She coughed and sputtered, drawing in all the air she could get as she doubled over on the ground. Rhys removed his sword but did not back away from Merai, still ready to strike should the moment come. She had lost her fire, strangely quiet and calm for one who had been so out of control only moments before.

"Never bring the likes of her here again, do you understand? If you wish to keep my allegiance there are certain rules we must follow."

"What are you going on about?" Rhys gasped, watching Jessa regain herself from the corner of his eye, unsure if he should help her. Merai did not seem to buy Rhys's shock at her actions, sneering at him and backing away, retreating into the darkness of her house.

"Don't you ever draw your sword on me again, Marinon!" She cried. "And if I ever see her again I will destroy her."

With those parting words Merai disappeared like smoke, vanishing into thin air in the darkness. Rhys looked around apprehensively, still clutching his sword, but as it seemed certain that she would not reappear he sheathed his sword, rushing to Jessa's side. Though only minutes ago Jessa had shown hatred for him, Rhys was not keen on watching her tortured. He helped Jessa to her feet, supporting her with one arm around her waist. She looked up at him, her eyes sunken and fearful, and in that look Rhys knew for certain that neither of them had the slightest idea what had just occurred.

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

The journey back to the house passed in a blur of pain and confusion. Jessa’s head lolled against Rhys’s shoulder, her aversion to him forgotten. Her throat was dry and raw, so even if she had wanted to she could not have spoken. Instead, she sat prone, willing herself to stay awake.

Rhys lifted her gently from the boat once it stopped and they staggered into the house like drunkards. Inside, they were met by, what looked to Jessa, like a very blurred and far away Vyserene. Jessa closed her eyes tightly, letting the conversation pass over her like a dream.

“Goodness, what happened?” Vyserene asked.

“Merai attacked her,” Rhys said, surprise in his voice. Vyserene said nothing, but Rhys’s hair tickled Jessa’s cheek as he shook her head, presumably in response to a silent inquiry.

“Excuse me, mother. I should take Jessa to bed. Call the doctor, would you?”

***

When Jessa awoke, her head throbbed. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, whether hours or days, but she knew it was still just about daylight from the long shadows creeping along the floor. She was alone in her room, a blessing after the frightening hours in the wake of her attack, where she had been visited by a flurry of servant and the doctor. The skin about her forehead felt pulled tight; Jessa rolled onto her back and gripped her head, feeling a bandage where her hair should have been. She vaguely remembered the doctor using his limited magical abilities to repair the gash at her hairline of her skull, but he had not been so sure of his abilities to leave it completely to magic. That suited Jessa fine; she had had enough magic practised on her to last a lifetime.

However, she had spent too long letting the trials in her life bring her down. She was not going to allow that again. Struggling to her feet, she moved to the mirror to assess the damage. Though Merai had not actually touched her, her neck was red, as if physical hands had tried to squeeze the life out of her. She fingers the marks and then hardened her gaze.

That magic…Jessa had never heard of such power in any one person. She may despise it, but she was a curious person and wanted to know what it was. It certainly was not the same as the magic the doctor possessed. If she researched the magic, she may also find a way to defend herself against it. It was a long shot, since she guessed only another mage would even have a chance, but Jessa could not let someone so formidable as Merai roam free, protected by the Marinon’s influence and Merai’s solitude and secrecy.

Though it was undoubtedly against the doctor’s orders, Jessa dressed and slipped outside her bedchamber. There was no one watching her door, so it was an easy task. She crept through the hallways to the library. The last time she had been there, she had seen Rhys and Selene; the university library was more extensive and suitable so she had seen no need. She doubted she was ready for water trips, however, so it would have to suffice. The Marinons were bound to have a book on magic with an ally like Merai; they were not the sort to enter into allegiances without the facts.

The library was not vacant. When she stuck her head around the door, she saw Rhys. He was bent over something, his back facing the door to hide it. Jessa came fully into the room and let the door swing shut. Rhys jumped, but calmly closed the book and rubbed his hand over its cover. She kept her face blank, but she was definitely intrigued; his nonchalance only further sparked the idea that there were secrets hidden within the book’s pages.

Rhys turned and his eyebrows rose in astonishment. A moment later he turned stern. “You should be in bed.”

“And yet, here I am,” Jessa retorted, moving further into the library with a swish of her dress. “I do not care for lazing about in bed doing nothing. I can rest just as easily in a chair with a book. It isn’t taxing work, after all.”

Rhys frowned. “You should not be here.”

“Why not? Something I’m not allowed to know? That feels strangely familiar…” She glanced over her shoulder, waiting to see if Rhys understood. After a moment, he gaped at her, for the first time looking flustered.

“I had no idea she would react like that to you. I don’t have a clue what that was.”

“Well, even more reason for me to go into things after knowing all the facts,” she said primly and then turned away. She studied the spines of all the books, hoping one would have a promising title. Many of the words were faded, so she leaned in closer and squinted. The strain on her eyes caused a shot of pain to run through her forehead. After a short perusal, and realising there were too many books to quickly sort through, she sighed.

“What are you looking for?” Rhys asked, suddenly close. She noticed blood on his hands but said nothing about it. It might have been hers.

“That’s none of your business,” she told him, mimicking his words.

“Well then, I guess I’ll leave you to it,” he said, stepping back and heading for the door.

“Wait,” Jessa burst out. Rhys turned around as Jessa looked down. She played with her sleeves, steeling herself. She needed to say it, for it burned within her. “Thank you, for saving my life. You didn’t have to; goodness knows so many of your problems would be solved if I died, but you still did. So, thank you.”

She glanced up. Rhys looked uncomfortable but held her gaze. He nodded swiftly and then disappeared from the room. Jessa bit her lip. When she glanced over at the desk Rhys had been sitting at, the book was nowhere to be found.

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

"You should have let her die."

This same argument had been rehashed dozens of times, never changing in content or delivery. Rhys was ever on the defense, Anja perpetually on the attack.

"You keep saying that despite me obviously not caring about your opinion. Perhaps it's time to drop the subject," Rhys flashed her an insincere smile, turning back to his book.

"Her death would have solved all our problems. Why do we need her around anyway?"

"If we wanted her dead don't you think marrying her would have been a bit superfluous?" Rhys retorted. For someone so clever Anja was awfully thick sometimes. She pursed her lips, unable to come up with an argument. They stared at each other in invitation, each unwilling to be the first to back away from the fight. Rhys was sick and tired of being persecuted for saving a life. Perhaps Anja felt no human emotion but Rhys was not a fan of letting innocents die without reason. His moral compass might not point north, but it certainly did not point south. Anja, realizing her battle was a losing one, folded her arms, dropping her eyes and sinking back into the couch. Rhys smirked, returning to his reading pleased to have caused Anja's frustration.

They lounged in the sitting room for most of the morning, Rhys having left the library when Jessa entered. Knowing her he was certain she'd put some time into snooping through the many volumes, though being that she was unfamiliar with the library Rhys was confident she'd find only frustration in her search. The library was badly organized, untouched by servants, and all of the important documents were locked away in cabinets, the important books label with cryptic symbols and codes known only to his family. If she found anything of consequence it would truly be a miracle on her part. After what could have been an hour or more - Rhys often lost track of time during his working days - a knock on the door brought his attention away from the dull text.

"Lady Gaille is here to call, shall I send her in?" A footman announced, propping open the door only enough to poke his head in the room.

Rhys set down his book hurriedly, jumping to his feet from his sprawled out position with little grace. The footman took this as a yes, withdrawing from the room to open the door. Selene entered behind the footman, curtsying upon entrance.

"Hello, Rhys," she greeted quietly. Her eyes flickered to Anja, the two exchanging brief looks of distast. "Oh, Anja, you're here too."

"This isn't a harem, Rhys," Anja scathed, "we do have some standards."

"They let you in," Selene quipped, never letting her composure slip. Rhys chuckled, enjoying Anja's expression of rage, and waved Selene in. She sat down beside Rhys, smoothing out her skirts and fidgeting with her hair, looking uncomfortable in her position. Rhys couldn't help but gaze upon her, his mind wandering to their last encounter. It had been a painful few weeks without hearing her voice or looking upon her face, and though he knew the absence was for the best it was still a hard fate to accept.

"Out with it," Rhys prompted, reaching out to place his hand on hers. As soon as he touched her he withdrew his hand, realizing he was crossing a boundary that was best left untouched. If Selene felt strange about the contact she said nothing, letting it slide under detection.

"I'm here to see Jessa."

Of all the possible reasons for Selene's visit that one was the last of Rhys's guesses.

"What do you want to see her for?" He asked, flummoxed.

"I feel awful for what happened last time we met. I wanted to make amends, to explain what happened..."

Just as Selene trailed off into thought the door opened quietly, Jessa poking her head in, a large book in hand though Rhys could not recognize it from this distance. She took in the three pairs of eyes watching her and tried to leave, obviously not expecting such an audience.

"Wait!" Selene called out, rising to her feet. "Come sit down."

Jessa paused, once hand still on the door knob. For a moment Rhys was not sure if she would flee or stay, but with great reluctance Jessa shut the door, entering the room and sitting across from Selene in an large armchair. At first the women said nothing, both looking awkward and lost for words, oscillating between looking at one another and looking at the floor. It was Anja's sudden gasp and curse that brought everyone's attention away from the silent exchange.

Anja held out her finger, blood flowing from a small cut on the tip. A dagger was held in her right hand, a dot of blood coating the tip. Her face was hard with concentration but a certain anger boiled underneath. Rhys, Selene, and Jessa all stared on, perplexed at Anja's self-mutilation.

"What are you doing?" Rhys asked.

"Practicing healing," Anja said through gritted teeth.

"Magic?" Selene asked, bemused. "You're obviously not doing a very good job. I must admit I'm disappointed with your lack of skill, Anja. What a pity."

Anja jumped to her feet, curling in her bleeding finger and clasping her dagger with a tight grip. She grabbed Selene's hand, despite Rhys's protests, and cut into her palm with a deep stroke, drawing a great deal of blood. Selene cried out, pulling her hand to chest and cradling it, glaring up at Anja.

"Heal that," Anja hissed, returning to her chair. Rhys began to rise to his feet, yelling at Anja, but Jessa's wide eyed stare at Selene cut off his voice, bringing his attention to Selene. She sat silently, no longer looking pained, her eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. They watched in awe as she opened her eyes and held out her palm with a small smile, all evidence of the cut completely erased. Anja gaped in disbelief, her jaw slack and her eyes wide.

"You never said..." Rhys trailed off, turning Selene's hand over in his own, looking for any marks.

"It never came up."

[Mollianne]

{name:Jessa#|#picture:47}

“You kept it secret? Why?” Jessa asked, rising from her seat and placing the book on the arm. She frowned.

“It’s no secret, there just hasn’t been a reason to tell many people.”

Jessa’s eyes narrowed further. “But you could use your magic to heal people. That spell didn’t seem to take too much out of you, after all.”

“Lords and Ladies do not need to make their living tending to the sick,” Anja said derisively. “Selene would have put her time to other uses…my brother being one of them.”

Selene and Rhys glared at Anja in disgust. “Spending time with you alone, however, would rank lower than swimming in the sewage,” Selene remarked, before turning away from Anja, who was sneering at the comment. “Jasrah already has plenty of competent doctors. I am self-taught; my knowledge is still limited. I could not do a very good job, nor do I trust my abilities with anyone except myself.”

“Do you trust them with me?” Jessa asked, pointing at the bandage on her head. Selene frowned, as if she had only just noticed it. “The doctor tried his best but I believe he didn’t want to go further in case he caused more damage.”

“I’d imagine the doctor would know better than I,” Selene reminded her. “Jessa, can I speak to you alone?”

Jessa looked around in bewilderment, but nodded. She stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure whether they would leave the room or if Rhys and Anja would go. Eventually, Anja stormed out, followed by Rhys. He hesitated at the door, looking back unsurely at the two girls – his wife and his ex-lover – but with an encouraging nod from Selene, he left the room. The door shut with a resounding click. Jessa faced Selene, mirroring the woman as she sat back down on the couch. They looked across the room at each other.

“I want to apologise for the night we met. It was poor behaviour on my part, of course, I should never have done what I did. Rhys is married-”

“Honestly, Selene,” Jessa interrupted, holding up a hand. “I really do not mind. You know Rhys and I are married only because we have to be. I have no feelings for him. I suppose I was surprised to see you like that, but I really should not have been. I’d guessed your entanglement and you’d gone off together… It should have been obvious.”

“Nevertheless, I owe you an apology. And an assurance that it is unlikely to happen again. Rhys has ended things. He believes I should be free to love someone else, and though I don’t like it, I admit it is for the best. I do still love him, though, I cannot lie.”

“I can’t say I will ever understand how you can love him, but I will not stop you. I have already told Rhys that it is fine if you want to continue your relationship, discreetly and with my knowledge. It is none of our faults that we are in this mess, after all.”

Jessa lightly touched the cover of the book she had found as she spoke. As much as she appreciated Selene trying to make amends, though Jessa had no grudge against her – and it was more than Rhys had ever done – she did want this meeting finished as soon as possible. She was desperate to read the text more thoroughly. It did not reference any magic such as she had experienced at Merai’s manor, but considering she had never heard of such magic it was to be expected. Still, it would offer insight, and her tongue grew dry with anticipation.

“Rhys and I have decided to be friends, nothing more. It was a moment of madness. I do hope it won’t prevent us being friends, either.”

“I can promise it will not. You truly have no reason to apologise,” Jessa said, shrugging her shoulders. Her gaze drifted to Selene’s unblemished hand. Selene also looked down. “You said you taught yourself magic?”

“Yes, we have books on magic in my family library. As long as I had those to guide me, I saw no reason to seek a mage,” Selene explained. Her eyes widened. “Are you interested in learning magic?”

“I don’t have the ability.” Selene nodded, though she looked a little disheartened. Jessa wondered if there was anyone else in her close acquaintance who could do magic. Pulling the book out from under her arm, she added “But I am curious to learn about it. I found this in the library here, but I cannot find anything else on the subject.”

Selene bent forwards and squinted to read the title. She shook her head. “I certainly don’t have that one in my collection. I bought any that I could find that taught magic, so I doubt that this one does. You are more than welcome to visit our library. Though you may not actually practice the magic, it could offer insight.”

“Have you heard of Merai?” Jessa asked suddenly.

“Well… yes, but I’ve never actually met her. I only know of her from what Rhys has told me, and she unnerves him,” Selene replied unsurely, shifting in her seat.

“She has a kind of magic I’ve never heard of – far more powerful that anything in this book. Do you know anything about that?”

Selene shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I only found the books that would help me.” Jessa tried to keep her face expressionless, but she was concerned. How had no one heard of this magic? Had Merai cast a spell across the world to make them forget, to wipe all records of it clean? Surely she could find it somewhere.

“It is no matter.” Jessa stood and smiled. Selene hastened to her feet, too. “Thank you for coming to make amends with me, though there really was no need.”

Selene smiled, moving to take Jessa’s hand. She looked down in alarm, but did not pull away. It was strange, having someone touch her in such a fond manner. Jessa had never known friendship other than the one with the rather more aloof Alistair. It was peculiar, but nice.

“I am glad we have talked, nonetheless. I think we could be great friends,” Selene said, squeezing Jessa’s hand once and then letting go.

Jessa could not help but smile back. “I would like that.”

[Rosabeth]

{name:Rhys#|#picture:48}

When Selene exited the sitting room Rhys was there waiting anxiously outside the door. Selene put a finger to her lips, shushing him before he could get out a word, ushering Rhys down the hall. When they came to the foot of a staircase Selene came to a stop, turning to Rhys.

"What happened to her?" she whispered, looking over her shoulder as if afraid of being overheard. "No one has been able to tell me the full story and your servants are annoyingly loyal."

Rhys relayed the story in full, filling in all the details he'd left from his report to his mother. Selene listened quietly with rapt attention, adding the appropriate gasp or sigh here and there. When he finished Selene was quiet, staring down at the floor.

"I can't say I'm surprised to hear Merai attacked someone - she's always been unstable as far as I know - but what did she mean by 'the likes of her'? Do you think she knows Jessa."

Rhys shook his head. He'd thought the same thing many times, working through all reasonable explanations in his head, but nothing seemed to fit. "I'm sure they weren't aquatinted. Merai didn't show any recognition of her until just before we left. It's like something triggered her reaction out of the blue."

"I don't understand," Serene sighed. "Jessa seems sweet." Rhys raised his eyebrows but Selene only shook her head. "Perhaps that's not the right word, but she has good intentions. I can't think of any reason for Merai to feel threatened."

Neither being able to come up with a reasonable answer to the question that hung in the air, Selene said her goodbyes, leaving Rhys to his thoughts.

***
Rhys returned to the sitting room but gave up on all work. He lounged about on the couch, dozing in and out under the soft light streaming in through the windows. Jessa confined herself to a corner, pouring over the book before her with unwavering concentration. Just as Rhys felt another wave of fatigue wash over him, lulling him out of consciousness, Dima burst through the door, banging it against the wall.

"Father's having the traitors over for dinner, the ones who haven't fled."

Anja burst in behind Dima looking absolutely gleeful. "He wants you there too, Rhys. This is to be a 'family occasion,'" she made air quotes, mocking Erik's voice. Rhys looked hesitantly at Jessa, nodding towards her in question. Anja shook her head with a sneer. "Not her."

Jessa, albeit confused, knew when she was being excluded. She barely looked up from her book but to shoot Anja a dark look. Dima and Anja left gleefully, chatting away quickly in hushed tones as they hurried towards Erik's study. Rhys was never as thrilled about these dinners like his siblings always seemed to be. To him they were a waste of time and energy for a task that could be felt with swiftly in private.

"What is this dinner?" Jessa finally blurted out. It had been clear since the topic came up that she'd been itching to ask.

"It's less of a dinner and more of a ... conference. Trust me, there are reasons you're not invited. Somehow I don't think it will suit your tastes. It rarely suits mine."