ONCE AGAIN, Po had not expected Katsa to return so early. Raffin told him five days, but Po felt her return on the third day. He felt her anger the moment she neared the castle, thundering down the cobblestone like a tsunami in the Lienid summer. Wild, hot, electric anger coursed through her as she hopped the stairs up to Po's room and knocked down the door, growing angrier when she found it empty. She made her way up even faster to Raffin's workrooms, where Po and Raffin were.
Unfortunately, Bann and Raffin were not ready with that proposal of love for Po. Bann had spent some time with his family in Randa City and was not to come until tomorrow, the supposed last day before Katsa was due to return.
Po sighed as he watched Raffin tinker with the blue solution in the beakers. He didn't bother telling Raffin she'd arrived. It would have worried him, and he was finally getting somewhere with his headache cure. Po sat at the edge of Raffin's table, turning when Katsa forced the door open.
"Where is he?!" she demanded, every bone in her body searching for Po to deal with him like a starved wildcat with its prey. When her eyes landed on him, she stopped in her tracks. Po saw glimpses of himself, the way he slumped at Raffin's table, his jaw purple from where Katsa had last punched him, and his sleeves rolled up. Everything about him ignited another fire in her.
Her anger was not ideal, but she yearned to confront him, for he had lied about something very important. "There's something I must tell you, Katsa," Po began before she could get any more words out in between her growing anger. He would start slow and tell her that he was not who he said he was, that he was not completely honest with her, and that his feelings were still true. "I—"
It hit him like a slap in the face, derailing his train of thought. Forceful snippets bombarded Po of all the times he'd talked to her, each one harsher than the last. The last snippet was a scene of the first time Po had spoken to her, that night in the archery range, telling her of his fighting Grace. "You're a mind reader!" she yelled. "You're a mind reader, and you lied to me!"
Great hills, Po! Raffin swore shortly and jumped up. He ran to the door behind her and pushed it closed. May the hills save us now!
That he had not expected from her. Po closed his mouth and held Katsa's gaze, because she'd promised she wouldn't hit him again in anger, wouldn't she? "I'm not a mind reader," he said, because technically he wasn't.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she spit. Her mind was a hurricane that spun around powerful thoughts, those of sadistic Gracelings who stole others' thoughts, this Grace that was capable of controlling her, stronger than anything King Randa had done to her. "It's people's thoughts you sense."
"No, Katsa. Listen." Now that he'd been forced on this sprinting horse of a problem, he struggled to explain himself fast enough. If he was too slow, Katsa would implode with that adrenaline in her, enough to flatten half of Randa City in one blow. It was worse because she'd already known… In all of his months with her, he had not planned for her to find out for herself. How best could he get through to her? How best could he get her to understand?
"I sense people," Po began. "Think of it as my night vision, Katsa, or the eyes in the back of my head you've accused me of having. I sense people when they're near me, thinking and feeling and moving around, their bodies, their physical energy. It is only…" He swallowed. This was the part that she would despise the most. "It is only when they're thinking about me that I also sense their thoughts," he finished softly.
"And that's not mind reading?!" She screamed it so loudly that Po flinched, yet it was but a fraction of her anger.
He sent a silent prayer to the sea god Lienid and forced himself to hold her eyes. Her eyes, once so mesmerizing, glowed with fire as if she were shooting rounds of daggers at him with the speed of a, dare he say it, Lady Killer. "All right. It does involve some mind reading," he admitted. "But I can't do what you think I can do."
"You lied to me! I trusted you!"
Thank Lienid for Raffin. His gentle voice broke through her distress. "Let him explain, Katsa."
She turned to Raffin, incredulous, flabbergasted that he should know the truth and still take Po's side. She whirled back on Po, who still dared to hold her eyes, as if he'd done nothing wrong, nothing completely and absolutely wrong. But she kept quiet, for Raffin had gotten through to her.
Po nodded his thanks to Raffin. He put his hands together and reached to Katsa, despite his Grace warning him not to. "Please, Katsa. Please hear me," he begged. "I can't sit and listen in to whatever thoughts I want. I don't know what you think of Raffin, or what Raffin thinks of Bann, or whether Oll enjoys his dinner. You can be behind the door running in circles and thinking about how much you hate Randa, and all I'll know is that you're running in circles—until your thoughts turn to me. Only then do I know what you're feeling," he explained.
Her anger had calmed some, mixing with disappointment. This was what it felt to her to be betrayed by a friend. No. By a traitor pretending to be a friend. And such a wonderful friend he'd seemed, so sympathetic, so understanding—and no wonder, if he'd always known her thoughts, always known her feelings. The perfect pretense of friendship.
"No," Po insisted. "No. I have not lied, Katsa, but my friendship has not been a pretense. I've always been your true friend."
Even now he was reading her mind. "Stop it," she spat out. The very notion of friendship with a lying mind reader disgusted her. "Stop it. How dare you, you traitor, imposter, you…" She couldn't find words strong enough, but it was convenient that Po still sensed what was going on in that monsoon of emotions within her, and it was convenient that she knew that Po knew what she meant. Her indecision twisted into cold satisfaction when she saw Po feel the full meaning of what she couldn't verbalize.
Po slumped under the weight of her meaning. A couple of days ago, everything was splendid, blessed with good fortune by Lienid. Now, nothing was going according to plan. What could he say? What could he say for her to hear him through her raging emotions, with every bone in her body itching to tear him apart for his lies? What could he say that would let him have a chance at seeing her again, her beautiful eyes, her bubbling sense of humor, the wild energy that coursed through her, silenced by nothing but the darkness? Po looked down into his hands and decided to start at the beginning, though his voice betrayed him. He cleared it and tried again.
"Only two people have known this is my Grace: my mother and my grandfather. And now Raffin and you. My father doesn't know, nor my brothers. My mother and my grandfather forbade me to tell anyone, the moment I revealed it to them as a child."
Well. She would take care of that problem. Po was not to be trusted. People must know, and she would tell everyone.
Only Katsa would go so far. "If you do, you'll take away any freedom I have," Po murmured. "You'll ruin my life."
I'm sorry, Po, Raffin thought distantly.
Katsa looked at him then, but his image blurred behind tears that swelled into her eyes. She knew she must leave. She must leave this room, because she wanted to hit him, as she had sworn she would never do. She wanted to cause him pain for taking a place in her heart that she wouldn't have given him if she'd known the truth.
This was exactly what he'd grown up hearing from his mother and grandfather. He would be shunned, alone, friendless, and eternally suspicious. He would tarnish the Lienid name and be isolated from his loved ones. He'd spent the last eighteen years protecting it from the world… The only difference now was that, with his life placed in the hands of this ferocious Lady Katsa, these fears had become reality.
"You lied to me," Katsa concluded. She turned and ran from the room. She ran and ran, and this time Po sensed her further away than before. He felt the way her breath hitched after every sob, the way her heart screamed with the desire to never have met Po, this beautiful cat-eyed man who'd broken her trust and lied about everything.
She ran through the castle, pushing past stewards and slamming doors as she went. She ran until she'd passed the statue fountain of Randa in the courtyard. Then she broke into a sprint through the front gates of the castle, into the city below, and disappeared from Po's mind.
"She's gone," Po muttered. He turned to Raffin. "She's run into the city."
"I'm sorry," Raffin said, then hauled his seat next to Po's. He put a reassuring hand on Po's back.
"Don't be. You took it better."
"Thank you." Raffin's eyes laughed. "Katsa just needs more time. More than I needed. But she'll come around."
"Well. You were the case scenario."
"Thank you," Raffin said again. He stood and stretched his back, sighing, and turned back to Po with warm intentions. "Katsa will be back soon. I have a hunch Giddon and Oll were not far behind. I'll go out and wait for them. You may come along, if you wish."
Po shook his head. "I appreciate it, but I've packing to tend to. I think I'll leave tomorrow."
"Yes, it's probably in your best interest," Raffin affirmed. "Sunder has been quiet for some time. King Murgon won't suspect you in the city."
"And if not Sunder, then… Monsea."
"Monsea," Raffin repeated. "I'm sure your aunt will appreciate the good news, though I fail to see what other leads you'll find there. All the more, if you return with news, you know where to find me. I'd like to see this through."
"As for my grandfather—?"
"Safe," Raffin promised. "You've enough to worry about," what with Katsa. "I might see her later tonight, when she returns."
"May Lienid give you the strength to face a Lady Killer, Raffin." It was all Po could reply with.
"Leave the pity for Katsa." Raffin grinned at him. "I may be a medicine man, but I'm stronger than I look. I'll see you then, Po." He slipped through the doorway, that good-natured Raffin, so unlike Katsa and her whirling heartbreak.
Po's boots crunched against the gravel as he walked the garden path. It was late evening, but the birds were still chirping in the trees. The last hour of sun showed through the grape vines. A butterfly fluttered past Po and landed on one of the roses.
He breathed in the sweet smell of the flowers and let it go. People were complex to deal with, made worse with his Grace. It was just his luck that this garden was far enough away from the main part of the castle so that he wouldn't have to hear the thoughts that came with it. It was so beautiful here, so tranquil. So beautiful, like Katsa's laughter, so tranquil as Katsa in the darkness...
Po sighed. How could it be so pleasant here when everything else in Po's life was going so horribly? What was he thinking? Lying to Katsa for months? With her impulsive Grace, and with Raffin's warnings… Why hadn't he listened?
They'd gotten much closer over the summer months. She was a ferocious wildcat, and despite this, Po had come to know that she was not all bite… and she could listen. It would be hard but not impossible that she of all people would come to understand his situation.
But she understood some elements already. He was careless. Far careless than with any other person in his life who didn't know his secret. Addressing her without looking at her, replying to her thoughts… He hadn't stopped himself from giving away his dangerous Grace to Katsa, whose very life was altered with the discovery of her own dangerous Grace. Maybe because she was meant to know it. Because she was trustworthy. Because she was his best friend. Because they had a lot in common, and there was much they could learn from each other's experiences.
She was the better fighter, and she hardly felt pain, and there was nothing she would not stop doing once she'd been wronged or hurt. It was sickening the way her eyes had burned holes into him as if he were one of the victims King Randa had told her to kill...
But still she held herself back. She had kept true to her promise to him. And rather than acting upon her urge to strike him, she ran away. There were still some threads left to their relationship.
He had to explain himself freely, without fear of her retaliating, without that monsoon of emotions in her tearing her further and further away from him. This did not have to tear them apart, hurting both of them in the process. This could be acknowledged and learned from, making both of them stronger for it. His Grace was not only selfish and distrusting, but also incredibly selfless. It allowed for communication and understanding in a way that most people could not have, a way that worked best for Katsa over the couple months he'd known her.
He needed to talk to her. To apologize for hurting her. To tell her his side of the story. He was more than the bully Randa that Katsa's mind was filled with when she thought of mind readers and people who would take advantage of her. He needed to feel the warmth and trust again in her mind—
Suddenly, the erratic feeling was back. Po had felt it occasionally during the summer, but nothing like this one, so large and so direct. This one moved with purpose, with more predictability than the last times he'd sensed it.
Po stood to attention and faced the way the feeling came from. Was it the mysterious Graceling who might have followed him? Were they finally making their move, when he was alone and preoccupied with other matters? Po fingered his knife, readying himself for the inevitable ambush, for this Graceling was coming swift.
He whirled around to a cat jumping out of the bushes, a dignified sort of cat with a tortoiseshell coat and the greenest eyes. She froze when she saw the way Po was looking at her, and the erratic feeling that Po sensed calmed… and it made sense. It made sense the other times he'd felt it, too. The mice that'd passed Po, and now this cat…
Po knelt and held his hand out to her, the source behind the feeling. "Hey, kitty," he said.
The cat gave a soft meow and approached Po warmly. She nuzzled her head into Po's hand.
She was not a mysterious Graceling that Po thought had followed him from Sunder. She was an unpredictable and unorderly animal, and animals did not view Po in the same way that humans did.
"Some Graceling, weren't you?" Po murmured as he pet her.
The longhaired tortoiseshell cat answered with a purr. She sat on the ground next to Po and raised her chin to him expectedly, waiting for something. When Po rubbed her chin, she closed her eyes, and the purring returned.
He did not sense her thoughts, but he could feel the calm energy flowing through her. And if he closed his eyes and focused… he could sense her. Her energy, her four paws on the ground, and the way her fur stuck out from her. The new sensations left him feeling only so slightly dizzy.
Po pet her like that for a while, marvelling at his growing Grace, and marvelling at the cat's appreciation for pettings. After eighteen years, his Grace was still new, still expanding. It'd begun with just feelings, increased to thoughts and perception of humans, and now it included animals.
"Think something to me, will you, kitty?" Po asked her. "I want to test it out."
The cat did not think something, but Raffin did. Raffin's words appeared in Po's mind, unsure. Po sensed him walking down one of the corridors towards his workrooms, in the part of the castle not far from the gardens. Po, you can hear me, right? If you can, come to my workrooms. I'm heading up there now. I've finished talking to Katsa… I'll refrain from thinking it to you, for your sake. He could almost see Raffin grimace at this next part. You've probably been hearing Katsa's thoughts since she returned from the city.
Po sighed once more. "Trusting you was either the best or worst choice I've made, Raffin," he decided. He gave the cat a last petting before she eyed him again, still expectant. "Sorry, kitty. Raffin calls," he said.
The cat tilted her chin.
Po snorted at her reaction. "Don't look at me like that. You would go too if Raffin needed you."
He took another look at the cat and made his way back to the castle, but the expectant feeling grew again, closer. Po did not need to look behind him to know that the cat had fallen in step behind him. Despite how grim the circumstances looked with Katsa and his grandfather's kidnapper, he couldn't help but smile at the odds of one thing in his life making sense.
When Po pushed the door open to Raffin's workrooms, Raffin looked up from his book. "Po, you got my message," he noted, pleasantly surprised. He looked at the cat behind Po, who'd walked in and made herself comfortable on the rug next to a stack of beakers. "I see you brought a friend. Hello, Rita."
The cat, Rita, licked her paw in response.
Raffin turned back to Po. "I suppose it's best to think my talk with Katsa to you, if you're to see her."
Po gave Raffin a second look. This was better than expected. "She's willing to hear me out?"
Raffin nodded.
"Show me."
He opened his mind up to Katsa's rooms, where he had found a stiff and small Katsa, so unlike herself as she sat on the edge of her chair and hugged her arms. She tugged on her hair as Raffin explained Po's Grace to her, and she tightened her fists when Raffin announced Po's plan.
Po swallowed as the memories faded away. "You'll make a great king with that kind of diplomacy, Raffin." He was glad his walk to the castle gardens had spared him Katsa's feelings, or his heart would have cried out with her.
"Nonsense." Raffin smiled. "You have some of that perception Grace diplomacy, too."
Po hoped it was enough to let him come clean to her.
He went for Katsa's rooms, leaving behind the practicality that came with a witty Raffin and a yawning Rita.
A/N: I dedicate this chapter to the lovely Ammie and her breathtakingly beautiful cat Rita. Rita is so beautiful that I simply had to make her the "aha!" moment for Po to figure his Grace out. I hope you enjoyed this chapter… or the second part of this chapter, I should say! :)
