PO STILL KEPT UP his Prince Greening appearances around the Royal Continent. He'd visited the countryside in Estill a while ago to please King Randa, and he visited Nander a week before summer's end. He hadn't learned any new information about his grandfather in Nander, but one thing he did notice was that he enjoyed the peace and quiet that came when Giddon was not around. Katsa, too, was glad for the trip, thinking the time apart had been good for them. Po had been itching to try some new moves during their drills, moves Giddon would not approve of, and they came together again with a new sharpness.
Katsa and Po were beginning to get along very well… and Lord Giddon began to stay through more of their drills. His anger rose with every hit Po landed on Katsa, until he was red in the face, fists shaking at his sides, and his jaw ground. No matter the time or day, his thoughts were always the same. He mentioned his hatred of Po, his jealousy, and about his beloved estate and beloved Lady Katsa: He better not hurt her again… My lady will pommel him… We'll celebrate his defeat at my grand estate, where I will propose to her… It's been long enough we leave for my estate and get that dishonorable Lienid away from her… No better than an opportunist and no worse than a thug!
That particular line. It was always the same, said in the same tone and the same ferocity. No better than an opportunist and no worse than a thug. Po tired from practicing with Katsa, but the anguish of hearing that line was another level. He almost treasured the time he had away from Randa City and the couple days Giddon would disappear to travel back to his estate.
Late that morning, Po and Katsa sat on the floor of their practice room, drinking water and resting. It had been a good session, made better since Po had come to miss her while in Nander. "How far away is Giddon's estate from Randa City?" he asked her. He'd wanted to keep track of every day Giddon would be gone this time and use it to his full advantage.
"It's near," Katsa replied. "In the west. A day's journey, perhaps."
"Have you seen it?"
She nodded. "Yes. It's large and very grand. He doesn't get home often, but he still manages to keep it well."
"I'm sure he does," Po muttered, more to himself than to her.
Katsa laid on her back and looked up at the high ceiling. The light poured into the room from the great windows. The days were beginning to shorten. The air would crispen soon, and the castle would smell of wood burning in the fireplaces. The leaves would crackle under their horse's hooves when they go riding… and soon the snows would fall, gentle at first, then fast and relentless, like the sea...
…and like Giddon. Lord Giddon, fast and relentless in his anger, cold yet flaring… And Katsa, so bold, courted by a man like Giddon, with eyes like a hungry hawk on its prey. That thought bothered him more than he would have liked to admit. But maybe Katsa favored the lord. Giddon knew her far longer than Po certainly had... No, it didn't help to dwell on uncertainties. He needed to know for sure.
Po swallowed the last of his water and turned to Katsa. "How will you answer Giddon when he asks you to marry him?" he asked her. "Will you accept?"
It took Katsa a moment to make sense of his words. She sat up and stared at him, confused. "That's an absurd question," she noted.
"Absurd…" That was not the reaction Po expected. "Why?"
Katsa was unsure what Po was getting at, especially since he wasn't teasing her. She narrowed her eyes. "Why in the Middluns would Giddon ask me to marry him?"
"Katsa." She continued to surprise him. Po did not need his Grace to see Lord Giddon's jealousy and possessive nature of Katsa… but it had not helped that his Grace showed him Giddon's thoughts too. "You're not serious."
She replied with a blank expression, devoid of emotion.
Giddon had been so confident, so sure… And Po, not knowing otherwise from Katsa, believed him. Po couldn't hide his smile from her. "Katsa, don't you know Giddon's in love with you?"
She snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Giddon lives to criticize me."
Po shook his head. He found himself laughing: at himself, at Giddon, at Katsa, and at the irony of it all. "Katsa, how can you be so blind? He's completely smitten. Don't you see how jealous he is? Don't you remember how he reacted when I scratched your face?" he pointed out.
An unpleasant feeling began to gather in her stomach. "I don't see what that has to do with it," she retorted. "And besides, how would you know? I don't believe Lord Giddon confides in you."
"No," Po admitted. "No, he certainly doesn't. Giddon trusts me about as much as he trusts Murgon. I imagine he thinks any man who fights you as I do is no better than an opportunist and no worse than a thug," he recited from Giddon's thoughts. That line described the man a little too perfectly.
"You're deceived," Katsa insisted, and Po sensed no lie from her. "Giddon feels nothing for me."
"I can't make you see it, Katsa, if you're determined not to see it," Po said with a shrug. He felt better now, more content, more satisfied… He had been sore from their practice this morning, but he had rested, was refreshed with water, and his best friend was not getting married after all. What more could he need to be happy? He stretched onto his back and yawned.
Katsa was Katsa, and Katsa was hopeless with marriage and romance. Po would help her save face for the inevitable.
"All the same, I might think up a response if I were you. Just in case he were to propose," he added with another laugh. Giddon had been so angry, he'd wanted to leave by tomorrow morning with Katsa for his oh-so-very grand estate. "I'll have to ice my shoulder, as usual. I'd say you won again today, Katsa," he told her.
Katsa would have had something to say to that but she hadn't moved a muscle. Frozen bewilderment was washed over her, but in a second, it thawed, and her restlessness returned with a vengeance. She jumped to her feet. "Are we done here?" she demanded.
"I suppose so." Po tilted his head up to her. Giddon's proposal must have really shaken her. Katsa was quite talkative when they ate, Po had come to know. Perhaps they could talk it out with some food as a distraction to calm her down. "Are you hungry?" he suggested.
Katsa waved him off and marched to the door, true to her nature. She left him lying on his back in the light of the windows. She was a wave of mystery, even with Po's Grace. Po did not sense where she was going, but something told him she headed for Giddon, and not for the purpose of accepting that marriage proposal. It was a very Katsa move.
And Po? How lucky he turned out to be, and how foolish, to believe Giddon. He'd known Giddon was jealous, but he'd assumed it was because he was courting her and the two would marry by summer's end... or so Giddon's thoughts said. Po laughed to himself again, and he considered the odds of romancing this beautifully ferocious wildcat in their fights, in their laughter, and in their many stories they shared with Grandfather, Raffin, and Bann. And perhaps one of those stories could feature his real Grace, too. One day, if the sea god Lienid permitted...
How lucky he was indeed.
"There's very little happening in the Seven Kingdoms," Oll said as he looked around the table at each of the Council members. "We've called this meeting only because we have some information about Prince Tealiff we can't make any sense of. We're hoping you'll have some ideas."
Bann had joined them for this meeting, because Po's grandfather was well enough now to be left alone on occasion. He'd also provided a good wall of separation from Giddon, as Po noticed that Katsa hid herself behind Bann. Po still had a good view of her across the table, but Giddon, who sat on the other side of Bann a few seats down, couldn't.
"Lord Davit gave us true information," Oll continued. Po had come to know him as a friendly man, almost like Grandfather Tealiff. "Neither Nander nor Estill knows anything of the kidnapping. Neither was involved." Po had known this as soon as the words had left Lord Davit's mouth a month ago during the last Council meeting. "But now we're almost certain that King Birn of Wester is also innocent."
Giddon flickered with interest. "Could it be Murgon, then?" His thoughts lately during Po's drills with Katsa had been comparing Po to Murgon and the way that Po was kidnapping Katsa away from Giddon.
"But with what motive?" Katsa interjected. She'd recovered from her shock from earlier today and was back to her regular self.
"He has no motive," Raffin said. "But then, he has no less motive than anyone else. It's what we keep coming up against. There is no motive for anyone to have done this," he pointed out. He then gestured to Po. "Even Po—Prince Greening—has been able to come up with none."
That was true. It seemed ages ago that Po had been interrogated by King Murgon, but the topic had come up in conversation during Po's visit to Raffin's study with Raffin, Bann, and his grandfather. Po nodded to Raffin. "My grandfather's only importance is to his family," he confirmed.
"And if someone had it in mind to provoke the Lienid royal family," Oll said, "wouldn't they reveal themselves eventually? Otherwise, the power play becomes pointless."
"Has Tealiff said anything more?" Giddon asked.
Po thought back to his conversations with Grandfather and what he saw from the memories Grandfather shared with him. "He's said they blindfolded him… and drugged him. He's said he was on a boat for a long time, and their land travel was shorter in comparison, which suggests his captors took him east by boat from Lienid, possibly to one of the southern Sunderan ports. And then up through the forests to Murgon City. He's said that when he heard them speak, he believed their accents to be southern."
"It does suggest Sunder, and Murgon," Giddon said. If he tells the truth at all.
Katsa straightened her back. It didn't make sense… unless his family played a role. "Po, your grandfather had no argument with your father, or any of your brothers? Your mother?"
"None," Po promised. "I'm sure of it." As sure as he could be without telling them his real Grace.
Says the dishonorable Lienid. I'll bet his family played a trick on the Seven Kingdoms so he could come here to stir trouble. "I don't see how you can be so sure," Giddon said.
Po caught his eyes like Prince Greening Grandemalion would. "You'll have to take my word, Lord Giddon. Neither my father nor my brothers nor my mother nor anyone else at the Lienid court was involved in the kidnapping," he returned carefully.
Giddon's mouth was a thin line. Nor anyone else, he says. Not even him? I'm willing to bet on my title that it was him… His kind would do that.
The tension was so thick, it could have been cut with one of Katsa's many knives on the wall. Fortunately, Raffin stepped in before it came to that. "Po's word is good enough for the Council. And if it wasn't Birn, Drowden, Thigpen, Randa, or Ror, that leaves Murgon."
That caught Po off guard. It wasn't only Murgon left. Family crimes were not uncommon, but... "Have none of you considered the King of Monsea?" he asked.
Leave it to the dishonorable Lienid to blame the one good king on the Royal Continent, Giddon thought. "A king with a reputation for kindness to injured animals and lost children, come out of his isolation to kidnap his wife's aging father?" He snorted. "A bit unlikely, don't you think?"
"We've made inquiries and uncovered nothing," Oll interjected. "King Leck is a peace-loving man. Either it's Murgon, or one of the kings is keeping a secret even from his own spies." He has a good suggestion, but it's all for naught.
We're not getting anywhere. Katsa sighed and put her hands on the table, annoyance flickering through her. "It may have been Murgon, or it may not. Either way, Murgon knows who's responsible. If Murgon knows, then the people closest to him know. Couldn't we find one of Murgon's people? I could make him talk."
Po had no doubts about that.
Oll shook his head. "Not without revealing your identity, My Lady."
"But she could kill him," Giddon reasoned, "after she questioned him."
Katsa held up her hand. "Now, hold on. I said nothing of killing."
"But it's not worth the information, Katsa," Raffin reminded her, "for you to interrogate someone who'll recognize you and speak of it to Murgon afterward."
Po felt Giddon's eyes on him again, cold and calculating. That Lienid should put in the work instead of hurting my lady all day. "Greening should be the one to do it, anyway," he insisted. "Murgon wouldn't question the motivation of a Lienid prince. Murgon would expect it of him. In fact, I don't see why you haven't done it already, if you wish so much to know who's responsible." So he can be on his way faster and leave us alone.
Po considered his next words carefully to Giddon. Dare he tell Giddon and the Council about his interrogation with Murgon? Did Giddon deserve to know about that with all the hatred he had toward Po? Before Po could reply, an irritated Katsa leaned around Raffin and Bann to address Giddon.
"It's because Murgon can't know that Po knows Murgon is involved," she explained. "How would Po explain that knowledge, without incriminating us?"
"But that's just why you can't question Murgon's people, Katsa, unless you're willing to kill afterwards!" Giddon thumped his hand on the table and glared at her. Po didn't like that Giddon was so confident with Katsa's killing Grace, as if she were his property and all she had to do was serve him with her Grace. In Lienid, that was grounds for libel against a Graceling.
"All right, all right," Raffin chided, saving them again. "We're going in circles."
Katsa didn't reply, but she did sit back in her chair.
Raffin turned to her. "Katsa," he said softly, "the information isn't worth the risk to you or to the Council. Nor, I think, is it worth the violence."
Katsa's fire dampened at that. She sighed.
"Perhaps it'll be worth it someday in the future," Raffin continued. "But for now, Grandfather Tealiff is safe, and we've seen no sign from Murgon or from anyone else that he's being targetted again." He caught Po's eyes. "Po, if there are steps you wish to take, that's your affair, though I'd ask you discuss it with us first."
Po didn't like discussing his intentions with Giddon and making another scene for the other Council members. It was a problem for another day, and he was not ready to give Giddon another reason to hate him. "I must think on it," Po replied.
Raffin nodded, looking at the Council like a true king. "Then the matter is closed for now," he said, "until we learn something new, or until Po comes to a decision. Oll? Is there anything else on the table?"
Oll began to speak then of a Westeran village that had met a Nanderan raiding party with a pair of catapults, given to them by a Westeran lord who was a friend to the Council. The Nanderan raiders had fled, thinking they were being attacked by an army. There was laughter at the table, and Oll began another story, but Po tuned it out, thinking back to what had been said.
The Council was so certain that it was not Nander, Estill, Wester, and the Middluns. Po could vouch for Lienid, but that still left Sunder and Monsea, and none of the members had doubted Monsea… Po thought back to the visits Aunt Ashen used to make to Lienid and the letters he used to write her. She was so kind and so strong, and she was always filled with good things to say about her husband… and so was the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. He was a great king by Royal Continent standards, and Po's father King Ror respected the man for being a solid ruler to his country and a loving husband to his sister Queen Ashen in Monsea. He set an example to the rest of the Royal Continent how a state should be ruled, taking care of its people and animals… But Po couldn't shake the feeling that Monsea played a role, or Sunder, especially when he was running out of kings to blame for Grandfather's kidnapping, when the other kings had been honest enough during Po's visits.
The Council did not have second thoughts on the possibility of the King of Monsea. It didn't make sense that Aunt Ashen's husband would do something like that, and Aunt Ashen would have written to Lienid and begun an investigation as soon as possible. Instead, King Ror found out himself when Grandfather Tealiff failed to show for his planned visit to Ror City… and the rest was history. A dark and disappointing history, but one also full of gratitude and opportunity. Po had travelled to the Royal Continent before with his father on trade relations with the Wester court, but only now was he the furthest into the Royal Continent he'd ever been before… And only now could he lower his guard and show his best friends not the proper Prince Greening, but himself. Po.
From across the table, Katsa noticed the cut on his forehead fading away, knowing it would leave a scar. Would the scar rankle his Lienid vanity? No, she thought with a smile. He wasn't really vain. He hadn't cared a bit when she'd blackened his eye. He'd done nothing to hide the gash on his forehead. And besides, no vain person would choose to fight her, day after day… No vain person would put his body at the mercy of her hands.
Katsa's eyes fell to the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the careless way of his manners. Her eyes landed on the shadows in the hollows of his neck, then rose to his face again. She supposed he would have reason to be vain. He was handsome enough, as handsome as Giddon or Raffin, with his straight nose and the set of his mouth, and his strong shoulders… And even those gleaming eyes. Even they might be considered handsome.
The thought was gentle, said so freely, so truly genuine, and so humble in the comfort and privacy of her mind. Po's eyes met hers without his volition, and he was unable to hide his grin at her as the table erupted into laughter again.
Almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, exactly when I'd decided about his claims to vanity. Katsa glowered at him.
The meeting ended. Chairs scraped, and Raffin pulled Katsa aside to speak of something. They went deeper into Katsa's rooms, but Po sensed her nervousness twist into relief for the excuse to turn away from Po. She wouldn't see Po again until their next fight. And the fights always got rid of her restlessness and returned her to herself.
Po urged himself to follow the rest of the Council members out of Katsa's rooms. She was right: he wasn't typically vain, but now Po wasn't so sure. Why did he care that Katsa favored him? The way that his eyes enamored her so? Po was used to being called handsome in Lienid, but it was different when it came from Katsa. His heart swelled when she thought it, and he wanted to kiss her forehead and tell her about her eyes that shined like jewels, her simplicity in everything from fighting to conversations, and her aloofness that always calmed in the candlelight…
He could read minds and feelings, but hers still kept him on his toes, and Po quite literally appreciated that. He liked not being able to respond properly to someone's thoughts and emotions. It made him feel like he was harboring less of a secret if it couldn't work right half the time. Not to mention that it had been one of the best summers in his life despite the reason he'd come to the Middluns in the first place…
Po wanted to tell her all this and more, but he couldn't. He forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, single file behind Bann, walking further and further away from Katsa and her relief to be away from Po and his beautiful eyes.
