TW: Incest, Discussion of Past/Implied Pedophilia, Early Term Miscarriage
The next year or so passed in a pleasant blur. Torix may have been a pain, but he made up for it with a range of very useful talents. If one can get on his good side long enough, they'll find he's really wonderful with his hands; music, art…. he also gives commendable massages (I swear to every god, it's his one redeeming quality). But, for every escape from our responsibilities, we paid thrice over in make-up work.
Uru'bane's silhouette on the horizon was no longer a comforting sight. The moment Katana's claws touched down, everything Torix and I had neglected for the past several days would assault us without mercy. We work ourselves half to death, retreat to recover our strength, then re-approach to do it all again. Does it ever end?
Is Galbatorix going to abdicate the throne? Katana asked sarcastically.
I leaned forward and rested my cheek against her scales. Even despite the altitude and speed of her flight, she was warm to the touch. Suppose for a moment that he did! I'm his only heir; the whole damn mess would drop on my head!
But at least you wouldn't be as hated as he is.
Tell me you're joking; even you can't be that ignorant. A significant portion of the general population didn't know I existed. The more isolated the settlement, the more likely that they cared little who actually sat the throne. They knew the king because it was in his name that the tax collectors made their rounds, and they knew the name of whichever forsworn personally terrorized their region. The people who were aware of me (the nobility and the residents of Uru'baen) hated me as much as they did Galbatorix; considered us to be a single entity.
And why shouldn't they? You act like his pet. Katana fashioned a particularly exaggerated image of me perched on the arm of the throne like a rare southern bird; feathers and all.
Partner, I grumped, and I do not. If anything, I'm more like his damn mother sometimes. The hardest thing about working with the man (temper and ego aside) was his unrelenting, intrusive need to do reckless shit. He seemed to get a high from putting us in danger; from the risks themselves. His vice even extended to our relationship, as if he were inviting someone to discover it.
It's a miracle no one has caught your idiotic hides. Katana was more than willing to watch the disaster unfold. If anything, she was angry that we'd gotten away with it for as long as we had.
I'm not the problem child between the two of us, I snapped, and it's really none of your business! Heavy silence greeted my outburst. She shuttered her thoughts completely, and a wave of unease struck my chest. Katana?
My lovely partner tilted into an unreasonably steep dive. A wall of solid air met us as she dropped from the sky— a literal bolt from the blue! My hair, my clothing, even my very breath were ripped back by the sheer force of the wind. I pressed as tight to her body as I dared, squinting to keep my bearings. And then, the rotation started. With an expert flick of her tail and wings, Katana fell into a deadly spiral. All of my organs crowded my throat for the honor of being the first ejected. I crunched my eyes shut against the blurred white and grey scenery. So this is how it ends; plummeting to my death with my lunatic dragon!
Don't be so dramatic. Katana snapped her wings open wide and leveled out her dive. I peeked through my lashes just in time to see a pure vista of undisturbed snow mere feet beneath us. Katana funneled her excess speed into a massive loop, dropping into a curling bank nearly as big as she was. She plowed through the glistening hillock in a spray of powder and skidded ungracefully down the other side.
A sizable chunk of the drift fell directly onto her back. I shook my head like a wet puppy. The snow was melting quickly into icy slush now that it had been exposed to Katana's body heat. I shivered and swore as cold water ran down the back of my neck. What the hell was that for?
It appears that you need some extra time to think. Get off.
I balked. Katana, we haven't even reached the city gate! You're not really going to make me walk the whole way? Torix—
I don't give a damn about him. Get off my back now, Or I'll roll around in the nearest cattle field.
I shuddered. No doubt that dragons as a whole were vain, but they rarely made idle threats. Okay, okay, I'm getting down. I schlucked off the arm and leg straps, slung my pack over one shoulder, and hopped down her glistening forearm to the ground. At least tell him why I'm late!
Perhaps. Katana leaped back into the sky, buffeting me with the force of her wings.
"Just fucking wonderful," I groused, beginning the long and tedious trudge back to the palace.
-:- -:- -:-
The walk to the city was miserable, cold, damp, and treacherous. My lovely partner hadn't seen fit to put me anywhere near a road, and the snowfall here was worse than anything I'd seen in my life (aside from our trip to the north). Never mind the fact that I was dressed for dragon back, not walking. Eventually, I gave up on trudging through the snow and used magic to run atop it, like some legends claimed the elves could. This at least eased the passage, though it still took me well over an hour to reach the main gate of Uru'baen.
Once I did, I wished I hadn't. Every guard worth his eyes had seen Katana's dive. Unfortunately, I connected this fact all too late. I was met by a parade of "humble servants" who all offered me a private escort to the castle. A small crowd had also gathered on either side of the gate, curious onlookers and potential assassins alike.
My right eye twitched violently. I'm going to skin that damn lizard for this. I tried my best to keep a stately posture despite my sweat-streaked, wind-whipped face, partially unbound braid, and plain black attire. "I require no assistance, though I thank you noble gentleman for the offer." The gathered guards stepped back reverently, though I caught them exchanging looks. My words also sent a ripple of disquiet stirring through the milling crowd. How odd.
"All possible respect, Princess, but perhaps we should send for proper transport?" one of the guards said, stepping forward and bowing. He then added in a whisper, "It would stir the people up something fierce to have Your Highness suddenly among them, and anything can happen in a crowd like that."
I closed my eyes, grasping for patience I did not feel. "In that case, an escort ought to suffice. I expect you will be leading it, so I will have your name."
"Captain Perrenett Johnsson. My men call me Captain Perry." The captain was dressed as any officer of the city guard; with typical red livery and functional armor. I couldn't see much of his face, but he sported a dented helm that had been polished to a mirror finish.
"Very well. I expect you and your men to match my pace, Captain." In a few barked orders, a group of a dozen men fell into position around me and we set off down the main road. I would never admit it, but it did feel better to have armed guards at my back. Not quite as safe as traveling alongside Torix… but then, he would only make this particular situation worse.
In the time it took our group to organize, word had spread like dragon fire ahead of us. Faces poked out of windows, crowds milled as close to the formation as was reasonable, and fathers held children aloft for a better view. I cringed down to my bones. Public presentations weren't unheard of, but they were always pre-planned acts of propaganda; a show of strength, wealth, solidarity, and a dozen other things that did not apply to this. I felt exposed. Even worse, I could hear snippets of whispered conversation with my magically enhanced abilities. Some were benign, but many were simply foul. Barren, deranged, whore, killer, lush, lunatic, floozy, imbecile… they can't even decide on one reason to despise me! I ground my teeth in impotent irritation. My stomach churned, as if I was once more plummeting through the air astride Katana. I was so preoccupied with the gossip that I hadn't noticed my diligent little entourage stop in its tracks; I nearly walked straight into Captain Perry's back!
"Well, isn't this a delightful surprise!" None other than Balor Enduriel stood in our path. He was a large man, nearly as heavy as Morzan but considerably shorter and twice the width. His clothing was tailored to obnoxious perfection. Each piece of garish garb encasing his swollen frame was of the finest materials; velvets and silks too valuable to even be sold in most shops. He also sported a truly ludicrous quantity of jewels, from rings on his pudgy fingers to a gold medallion studded in rubies, to diamond-crusted cuffs on each pointed ear. His mop of bronze curls gave him a boyish gaiety that put many of his associates at ease. I, however, would never again be able to forget the cool cunning that lurked behind his murky green eyes. He spread his hands warmly, "Dear Lilleth, it has been so very long since we've had time to talk! I don't think I've seen your face this close since you were a little girl… say, ten years ago?"
"Twenty and three," I responded coldly.
He chuckled, tutting like a nursemaid fretting after her charges. "Far too long! We are, in some ways, family after all! Please, I insist that you have tea with me this evening." I opened my mouth to respond, but he trampled right through my protestation. "Gentlemen, you may all return to your posts. I shall take care to protect our darling princess with my very life!"
My skin crawled. Still… I do need an excuse to dig into his business. No sense passing up an opportunity, no matter how distasteful. "I don't need protecting, Balor. However, I would like to accept your offer."
He laughed heartily, stepping through the guards like they were leaves in a hurricane, and draping an arm over my shoulder. The scent of the man was overwhelming; rich perfumes, incense, and something sour lurking just beneath it all. "Right this way! We are actually quite close to one of my reputable establishments!" The crowd melted away from him as he steered me towards a three-story building perched on an adjacent corner.
The place was exactly as extravagant as the man himself. Painstakingly carved partitions blocked every window, and lanterns of various colors glowed within the structure. The external woodwork was painted demure cream, with carved gargoyles slathered in gold holding up the gutters. The main entrance was guarded by a solemn-looking man but otherwise was only covered by a gauzy red curtain. Balor ushered me into the building, but I didn't even catch an inkling of the first room before he jerked me sharply to the left and into a narrow passageway.
I tried to protest, but his chuckle set my teeth on edge. "You would not enjoy an evening spent here, little Lilly." All of the friendly banter melted away to mockery. "I cater to many appetites in my line of work, but I have little to offer a prudish little viper who cannot contain her curiosity." He reached ahead of me and rapped on a door. The second it opened, he shoved me inside.
My first thought was to murder him then and there, damn the risks and damn the odds, but I held the urge in check… barely. If he wanted me dead, he wouldn't get his hands dirty. Torix would tear his limbs off and feed them to Shruikan. I took stock of my surroundings, particularly looking for backup weapons or escape routes. The office was lavish, of course, and coated in so much decoration that the eye could barely absorb it all. I took note of a completely clean-topped desk, two sofas on opposing walls, a blazing hearth far larger than the cramped space required, and a center table with three sturdy chairs. One of the latter seats was occupied by another man I knew; one much worse than Balor.
He was uglier than sin. Not his features per se; his square face was too unremarkable. He had greasy brown hair, beady eyes, a bulbous nose, a permanent frown, drab green clothing, and meaty hands clenched into fists. This was Beren, Balor's life-long lackey and only confidant. I had never in my entire life been alone with either of them, not for a single second. One time, Beren had entered a shared space where Xanist and I had been studying. Papa Xanist scooped me up and walked out, abandoning our work for the day. Even after decades of training, participating in multiple wars, and scrapping with Galbatorix himself… something about this man made me nervous on a whole other level.
"This is stupid." Beren muttered in a drab monotone. He was intellectually stunted; not handicapped, just disinterested in learning. "She's just going to squeal when she leaves."
"I have hope that we can reach some sort of arrangement before any 'squealing' becomes necessary." Balor twisted a key in the door's lock, withdrew it, and tucked it inside his jacket. "Make yourself comfortable."
I crossed my arms. "Slim chance of that. Now, what could you two possibly want to discuss with me?"
Beren ignored me completely as he sipped from a brown floral mug. Balor joined him at the center table, tsking and shaking his head in disapproval. "My dear, there's no point mincing words. You have done something that men in my line of work consider to be unforgivable."
"If you're fishing for an apology concerning Vico the Toad, you won't have it." I scowled down at both of them. "He was vermin, and now he'll die like vermin."
Beren slammed his mug down with a crack. The bottom of the mug separated from the rest, leaking dark coffee all over the table. His beady eyes never left my face, and yet he still said not a word. Many years of finely honed instincts made it near impossible to look away from him. Suspecting ill intent is one thing, but he isn't even making an effort to conceal it!
Balor cleared his throat delicately. "Everyone in Vico's line of work accepts some risks; up to and including painful death. If anything, you were merciful." Pure sarcasm dripped off every word Balor spoke. "I'm sure he appreciated it."
I shrugged as casually as I could. "I wouldn't know. He wasn't in a particularly chatty mood when I left." In fact, he'd been a jibbering mess. Rooting around in a person's brain against their will was often a last resort for interrogators, and for one simple reason: you may answer one question, but you will invariably leave dozens more scrambled forever. "If not him, then what?"
Balor smiled, clasping his fingers together and examining his rings. "Do you think Galbatorix demands vengeance for every soldier killed in the field? Or that a queen bee leads a murderous swarm over every drone that does not return to the hive? Of course not. But when cities fall; when whole colonies of bees disappear in a puff of smoke… then a leader must take action."
So even he thinks he's an insect. I stood straighter. "I was tasked to investigate the deaths in Kuasta—"
"And were you tasked to interrupt my profit margins, little girl?" Still that pleasant, musical, mocking voice. "That I very much doubt. In my world, taking money from another man's pocket is grounds for war."
"Little girl?" I echoed. "I'm no more a child than you are."
"Then you should act more like a grown woman," Balor lectured patiently. "Only children think that a king's laws should apply to all equally. And," He straightened his sleeves conspicuously, "only an imbecile would think themselves above penalty."
"If you are, then I most certainly must be."
"And thus belies your second sin; playing the snitch." His green eyes sparkled in triumph as he leaned forward. "You believe that being daddy's little whore makes you untouchable."
My stomach dropped. He's bluffing. It's not possible! And, if he knew, then why would he tell me like this! It could be blackmail. But what do I have that he wants? I laughed without much humor. "Your fantasies are as vile as everything else about you. I suppose that shouldn't come as a surprise."
"Oh, it's no fantasy. Beren here was the first to notice it," he gestured politely to his companion. "Something about a hunter's instincts?"
"He's always wanted her." Beren kept his emotionless drone, but I could tell he was enjoying the subject. He was like a scavenger picking at a still-living meal.
"You see," Balor waved a hand as if the whole subject was tired, "my companion here has very particular tastes; thin, pretty, timid. Dark hair is a bonus as well."
I curled my lip.
"Oh no, you've nothing to worry about now, Lilleth. You're much too old."
Bile rose in my throat. Memories, distant memories, snicked together. "But I haven't always been, have I?"
"I think right around Katana's hatching would have been perfect," Balor said casually. "Is that right?"
"Yeah," Beren answered in a strangely… heavy tone.
"I was barely ten!" I wanted the words to stand as an obvious defense. They both blinked at me coyly as if I were just naive; as if I was the crazy one! "But.. what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, for one, Galbatorix knew that Beren wanted you." Balor stood, waddling sideways between Beren's chair and a sofa to reach his desk. "And without your father's protection, nothing would have stopped him. If anything, you owe he and I a great debt for sparing you that fate."
"He knew me because he's the same," Beren said simply. "He wanted you too."
Not then! I nearly blurted out the words but managed to choke them down just in time. Instead, I sputtered, "You're insane!"
"No doubt about that," Balor slid onto a wide stool behind the desk. "But then, aren't we all? Some of us run criminal empires, some prefer the company of little girls, and some spend their leisure time seducing their own kin. Madness is so very subjective—"
"I'm at the end of my patience for your baseless accusations—"
He slapped the surface of his desk sharply. "These are not accusations! I do not tell you this as a matter of principle; as it happens, I have no principles at all! I only tell you to warn you," He tapped the side of his nose merrily, "that I can be a dreadful enemy."
I finally turned my full attention to Balor. Snakelike smiles and cheery threats; this was a man who reveled in shadows. So that's all; he thinks that if he threatens me I'll let him run rampant in the underground. "So can I," I hissed.
He laughed. "So I have discovered to my great cost. If absolutely nothing else, you have Galbatorix wrapped around your finger." Still, he chuckled at his own private joke. "Which is why I cannot afford to have you whispering in his ear. Would you like to know what finally confirmed Beren's standing hypothesis?"
"No."
"It was twofold. The second I shall wait to explain, but the first was more damning from my perspective. He actually called me to task over the deaths in Kuasta, can you believe it? The man who unleashed Amroth onto an unsuspecting city took issue with a few drug addicts keeling over miles away!"
Too many emotions beat at my aching brain. The room smelled like everything all at once, sickly sweet and foul and musky. I wanted to leave… I needed to leave… but a fraction of me needed to know. [It is so often that very part of me that causes all of my trouble]. "Stop circling around the point. Tell me what you want, and leave this filth in the shadows where it belongs."
He held up a hand before I could interrupt him further. "I want Kuasta back in my pocket. Unfortunately, that will take some time. As repayment for my hardships, I want you out of my business permanently. I don't want my clients dropping dead any more than you do; it's bad for business. I give you my word that we will… "reevaluate" our business model accordingly."
I frowned. "As if that was the only issue at hand—"
"And," he leaned forward, pure mischief glinting in his eyes, "I will share with you a special bit of magic developed by yours truly; unknown to another soul in all of Alagaesia."
"No, thank you." I turned my shoulder to him. "I'm not bartering with the lives of my people—"
"You would prefer to gamble with the life of your child?"
Ringing filled my ears. A thousand swarming insects had just been let loose in my brain, slowly creeping down my throat and towards… Unthinkingly, I put a hand to my stomach. "That's not possible."
Beren scoffed. Balor stood and snapped at him, one crisp sound like a crossbow bolt against stone. He rounded the desk, a look of solemn support that so terribly clashed with his previous harshness. "Not now, I think. But, dare I presume, there was a moon or two that was… unpredictable for you? And they were followed by a severe sickness, seemingly without cause? I'm not surprised that the life never took root, but the echoes of its presence are perfectly visible to me."
I pivoted and glared at him. It was violating in a whole new way for a man I loathed to have any opinion on… to say he could see….
"Though I wear many hats in my field, my first and truest passion is the flesh trade. Most of my employees at brothels and the like are young ladies. I had to develop a system of protecting them from illness, harm, and that most dreaded malady of all: pregnancy. You may not currently be breeding, but that is by dumb luck I guarantee. I can offer you spells to keep away… unexpected consequences." He extended a hand. "And, after that, we shall stay firmly out of one another's path."
I sniffed, gathered the scraps of my dignity, and lifted my chin. "I have nothing to fear, least of all from you." A familiar strength coursed back into me, replenishing me from the exhausting evening; outrage. "Spread whatever rumors you choose, gods know there's worse than those already being said about me. But you should know this," I stepped close to him, channeling a lifetime's worth of loathing into every word, "with or without Galbatorix, I will crush you under my heel like the pest you are."
Balor set his face in hard lines, visibly unmoved by my speech. Still, it was satisfying to finally have him quiet. I reached a hand brazenly into his jacket pocket and plucked out the key. But before I could put it in the lock, a chuckle interrupted my momentum. Beren leaned back in his seat, "Why don't you ask Torix yourself? If he lies, then you know we're right."
I made a sour face. "You're a monster. He isn't."
"What are you willing to bet?" Beren asked.
I swallowed hard and made a break for the exit, the sounds of mulish, grating laughter following me all the way to the street.
-:- -:- -:-
I didn't tell Galbatorix about most of my conversation with the despicable duo— at least not yet. He was agitated enough by Katana's antics; I found him pacing around his room like a caged lion. Lucky for me, Balor's little field trip offered me a chance to shake the crowd and make it back to the castle undisturbed. But, of course, there was one matter I had no choice but to bring up as soon as possible.
I huffed in irritation, nails clicking impatiently on a goblet of wine. "Please sit. This is hard enough without you panicking."
"It isn't panic!"
"Could have fooled me." I sipped my drink to keep calm.
He marched over and took it out of my hand, draining it and setting the cup out of my reach. "You shouldn't even be drinking that!"
The eye twitch returned with sudden vengeance. "Everything is back to normal so much as I can tell, no thanks to you," I flicked his thigh, millimeters away from doing him real harm. He froze, feeling the full weight of my admonishment. "Now, use that genius brain to cook up a way to guarantee that it can't happen again."
He sighed deeply, dropping into the seat beside me. "I can examine some of the personal journals we recovered from Doru Areaba. If anyone knows how to avoid personal attachments, it's a rider with skeletons in their closet."
"You'd know," I snipped.
He turned a wounded stare at me. "As if you have any fewer?" I drooped in embarrassment and he put an arm around my shoulders. "Come now, you know that isn't what I meant. Every man has secrets; there is no shame in it."
A burning, insidious question floated in the back of my mind. Ask him, Beren had said… but, I couldn't quite face the subject head-on yet. I was terrified of the answer; be it truth or lies. I shook my head to clear the haze. "I'm exhausted from riding and walking all day. I trust that you'll be motivated to take care of this?"
He chuckled. "More than you can possibly know."
I headbutted him gently. "Creep."
"Brat."
Truly, few things in this world are quite as efficient as Galbatorix on a mission. He eventually discovered a wide range of spells developed over the last millennia. The technique I chose was developed by a female rider, and was something I could maintain by myself with negligible effort. Technically, by matter of wording, it was a type of ward. I wouldn't discuss any of this at all if it didn't matter for later points. For now, trust and believe that I left it in place quite permanently.
It was shortly after this conversation that he gave me another gift- one that I still have to this day. We argued about whether or not a mage could create a gemstone designed to hold more energy than one that formed naturally. He was the first of us to succeed. He turned his creation into a pendant. It was clear, hard as diamond, and shaped like a little heart, "Since you already have mine." It was a corny flourish, but that in no way diminished the value of the gift; few things in Alagaesia have half that much magic woven into them. It took me the better part of the next year to mimic the feat in the form of a ring. It was an unorthodox kind of engagement… but it need only have meaning to us.
As to Balor, this "chat" showed me his resolve and skill plainly enough. Rather than attack him head on as I had in Kuasta, I sent my network of agents out into the world to wreak havoc on him from every angle. It turns out that he had a hand in every sort of nastiness; anything that took advantage of other human beings. For example, slavery was still technically illegal (even though it was an unenforceable law). And yet, Balor had fostered a truly disturbing way of making it seem legitimate. He would "hire workers", who would then be "rehired" by his "clients" only to disappear into the ether.
In short, he was scum. I don't regret refusing him… no matter what happened after the fact.
Rumors could only do so much in the end; Galbatorix's power and influence were absolute. He and I were already loathed… what further harm could we cause? Even weighing the risk of total humiliation on a national scale, I was not willing to sell my soul. I suppose I should be proud of that… in truth, I think the whole thing was a damn joke. What right had I to be concerned about "reputation" when I was guilty of every accusation? Was that not its own kind of justice? How dare I claim to protect people while still working as an assassin? For fuck's sake, I was sleeping with a man who'd carried out a genocide! There is no justification for that! What right did I have to judge anyone?
The fact that Torix and I got away with this garbage as long as we did is proof positive that there is no justice in this life. We were together over five years, more than tripling my previous record for a relationship. And what eventually ended our liaison? Cowardice.
"Lilly, may we speak in private?"
I stopped at a crossroads of walkways looping around the garden. This area was devoted to meticulous hedges, preened into a maze of spirals. The voice came from just behind me, but I didn't need to turn to identify it. "We are in private, Antebellum."
The lady closed the distance, moving alongside me. "Not private enough. You know what gossips hedges can be."
I raised a brow and turned to her. Much to my surprise, the lady had not a trace of her usual good humor. "Who died?"
"No one yet," She answered, flicking a lacy fan out to cover her lips. "Please, join me for tea."
I sighed, reaching out with my thoughts to find the one I'd been on my way to meet. Torix was disappointed to hear my schedule had changed, but he accepted it with ambivalence. I'll make it up to you?
Yes, you will. A flurry of untoward images breezed over our link before he cut the connection off.
I closed my eyes so I could roll them without bothering Antebellum. It was hard enough to fence with this woman, let alone while I was so very distracted. "It would be a pleasure."
-:- -:- -:-
I stirred the delicate silver spoon in a lazy loop, watching the specks of tea leaves spiral as if they really could unlock the secrets of the universe.
"I bring this to your attention as an act of loyalty. I would expect the same thing from my allies." Antebellum sat stiff-backed on a fainting couch in the corner of her room. Not many nobles had the privilege of keeping a permanent suite in the palace, but the masked lords were the exception to every rule. Her's was opulence itself; all rose gold and elegant lavender. She loved comfort in everything, thick rugs, plush settees, warm shawls and shrugs never far from her fingertips. And yet, today, she wasn't relaxing into her nest. If anything, she looked like she was in pain.
"And I appreciate that. Now… what exactly have you heard?"
She cleared her throat. "I hope you aren't in the habit of shooting messengers?"
"You came to me, not Galbatorix." That won a smile from the lady. "Speak freely."
"There are disturbing rumors flying about." She frowned and looked me up and down. "When so many are saying the same thing, one feels inclined to believe either there is a coup on the horizon or, heaven forbid, their words have some elements of truth." I gestured for her to go on. She swallowed hard and stated frankly, "It is said that you have taken a lover, and that his identity is none other than the king himself."
I closed my eyes and sipped my tea politely. "That's certainly a creative interpretation." By the time I opened them again, Antebellum was staring at me like I'd sprouted wings. "Where exactly have you heard this?"
"That's the most troubling part! The rumor has come, unmarred, from so many different sources that I've lost count! If it is a coup, it's more massive than anything I've ever seen."
"And, if it were true, then we must have been brazen indeed for so many birds to sing the same song." I yawned. "What do you believe?"
She chewed her cheek, but relented as I flapped my hand lazily. "The convictions of the whispers are quite strong. At the very least, I believe you do have a lover." She giggled, even tense as she was. "And why shouldn't you? Men think they have the market cornered on debauchery. Meanwhile, the old sods only know one trick a piece. Any woman of taste needs at least three just to keep herself feeling young."
I stared at her in shock. "And this coming from the pinnacle of polite society?"
She scoffed. "Spare me! There's nothing polite about it. Which is why you'll get no flack from me for whatever you choose to do."
I grinned. "I may have to take your advice someday."
She flicked her little hand fan out once more, whipping up a gale. "If ever you do, I expect to hear the details in all their glory! And, in case the rumors missed their mark, do remind our dear king that my offer still stands."
I really doubt she'd enjoy him as much as she seems to think. I curled a thought protectively around some of the visuals he'd passed along earlier, focusing in particular on a pair of thick, worn, scarred leather cuffs. She could never relinquish control, not completely. But it hadn't been easy for me either. For Galbatorix, intimacy was more about power than pleasure most days. Sometimes we'd fight for it and sometimes I'd give in, but the result was always the same: submission. I'd found a fragile peace in total surrender, as uncomfortable as it was for me.
"Lilly?" Antebellum's question jolted me back to the present. Her pointed stare told me in no unsure terms that she'd noticed my absence and guessed at the cause. I braced for the worst but, instead, she offered me a warm, friendly smile. She lifted her own cup in cheers. "I can only wish you the very best, wherever your path may lead."
I bowed my head in thanks.
Galbatorix and I had a choice to make. The merest mention of dissolving our relationship sent him into a rage. And, as he correctly pointed out, there would be little point. We still worked together constantly; any rumors would be just as credible with or without the truth behind them. I suggested leaving Uru'baen entirely; deserting his side to stay in my own house. He wouldn't hear of it.
The only idea that really held weight for him was the worst of them all. Three of his agents had disappeared after infiltrating that old pain in all of our arses; the Varden. Brom's upstarts had evolved into something very new; a force unto themselves. They were housed in Farthen Dur (that had been a matter of simple deduction. There were only so many places in Alagaesia to hide a force of that size and temperament, and of those the dwarves' stronghold was the most likely). The requirements for an agent on such a mission were stringent: experience as a spy, great personal power as a spellcaster, extensive knowledge of the dwarven language and culture, and (most crucially of all) Galbatorix's absolute trust. The assignment would require me to leave both him and Katana behind; totally on my own.
Galbatorix loathed the idea. But, with my help, he also saw the merit in it. I confess, it was partially shame and cowardice that drove the decision. Indulging in sin is one thing, facing punishment for it is quite another. The court of public opinion mattered to me then… and it is this very moment that ensures I will never let it bother me again. I'll always remember our final evening together, no matter how hard I try to banish the memory.
"Come back to me," said he, delicately removing my pendant from around my throat. For my cover to stand inspection, I would need to leave everything behind.
I answered him arrogantly; as if I could command the will of fate with two fragile words, "I will."
"You must, Amniet. Eka weohnata waise unin verkr laust ono. Kuasta heim eom edtha, sundav iet." And then he held me and held me until late into the night
