Chapter 9 – Rising Blood

Both froze. The air between them seemed to crackle, and a breeze loosened a honey-colored curl from her elaborate hairstyle.

“Val.” Innogen’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Innogen.”

They spoke at the same time.

“How are you-“

“I’ve been looking for-“

They both fell silent, an embarrassed smile flitting across Innogen’s lips.

“Please, speak first,” said Valentina.

“No, I… it’s just…” Innogen visibly struggled for words. “How have you settled in? In your new position?”

“Fine. The duchess is very friendly. And you? I hear tomorrow will be…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

The pain in Innogen’s eyes was like a knife stab. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

“She’s suffering just as much as you are,” Vyxara remarked gently. “Just look at how her hands are shaking.”

Suddenly, Innogen took a step forward, then another, and before Valentina knew what was happening, they fell into each other’s arms. Innogen’s fingers dug into Valentina’s back as if she were drowning and Valentina was her only anchor.

“I missed you so much,” Innogen whispered into her ear, her voice breaking.

Valentina felt tears burning in her eyes. “Me too, Innogen.”

They held each other, both trembling slightly, and Valentina breathed in Innogen’s familiar scent.

Slowly, reluctantly, they separated, but their hands found each other, fingers intertwined.

“Val,” Innogen’s voice was soft but urgent. “Have you thought about my words? About what I said?”

Valentina looked into those blue eyes she knew so well and knew she had to be honest. “Every moment. But Innogen, I… I’m confused. I don’t know what I feel. Only that it…” She paused, searching for words. “That I don’t want to lose you.”

A spark of hope glowed in Innogen’s eyes. “So you haven’t rejected me. Not yet.”

“You mean… you mean to me…” Valentina broke off. What could she even say? She was a mess of conflicting emotions about the engagement. Jealousy that Lorenzo would have Innogen and jealousy that Innogen would have Lorenzo.

They heard footsteps approaching and jumped apart as if they had been burned. Just in time, because Lady Bianca Montfort came around the corner, her round face glowing with excitement when she saw Innogen.

“Oh! Lady Innogen!” She clapped her hands like an excited child and nodded amiably to Valentina as well, though she clearly did not know her name. “I just heard! You and Lord Lorenzo, what a perfect couple! You will be so handsome together, it’s like something out of a fairy tale!”

Valentina forced a smile, her fingernails digging into her palms. Next to her, Innogen made a sound that was probably meant to signal agreement but sounded more like gagging.

“Yes, how… wonderful,” Innogen squeezed out.

“Duchess Philippa just said she’d never seen a better match! And Lord Lorenzo is such a fine gentleman, so polite and modest. You must consider yourself so lucky!”

Valentina couldn’t take it anymore.

“Excuse me,” Valentina said hastily. “I should return to the duchess.”

“Oh, of course! I also was just about to…” Lady Bianca turned away, then turned back again. “Tomorrow will be so exciting! Announcing the engagement during the tournament, when Lorenzo himself will be competing, how romantic!”

When she had finally disappeared, Valentina and Innogen dared to take one last look at each other.

“We need to talk properly soon,” whispered Innogen. “Alone. Without…” She made a vague gesture that included Lady Bianca and the whole world.

“Yes.” Valentina briefly reached for Innogen’s hand and squeezed it. “Soon.”

They walked back to the pavilion separately, Valentina first, then Innogen a few minutes later. But the warmth of the embrace remained, as did the weight of everything that hung unresolved between them.

“She will suffer tomorrow,“ Vyxara said sympathetically. “You both will suffer. And Lorenzo too.”

Valentina resumed her place behind the duchess, her gaze involuntarily searching for Innogen across the pavilion. Her friend was now sitting next to her mother again, her face a perfect mask of polite attention. Only the way her fingers kneaded the fabric of her dress betrayed her inner turmoil to the familiar eye.

The next fanfare announced the final round of the melee.

“The remaining teams will now fight for victory!” cried the herald.

A young knight in the colors of House Blazen, perhaps eighteen years old and downright small and skinny in comparison, pushed his way through the crowd and pointed his sword at the Tower. A challenge to single combat, honorable and traditional.

The Tower tilted his massive helmet slightly to one side, as if observing a strange insect.

The young Blazen attacked with a perfectly executed overhead cut, followed by an elegant turn into a side cut. His technique was flawless, obviously the result of years of expensive training.

The Tower moved exactly three times. A step to the side, his armored forearm blocking the sword. A grab that seized the boy by the wrist, then a twist of his massive body that sent the Blazen scion spinning through the air like a doll, landing so hard on his back that he remained motionless.

The other knights on the field seemed to have come to a silent agreement – they fought each other and stayed away from the Tower. Occasionally, one ventured too close and was promptly sent to the ground, but for the most part, he moved unmolested through the fray like a rock breaking the waves on the beach, barely able to force an opponent to fight.

“He’s amazingly fast for a man of his size,” Vyxara remarked. “But even he can’t overcome his physics. A similarly skilled, fast, and cautious fighter could probably defeat him. Not with these practice weapons of course.”

When the last fighter on the opposing team fell, the herald declared the team of the Tower the winners. A bag of gold was presented to the team elder, who proudly accepted it while the Tower was already removing his helmet.

Valentina held her breath.

His face was… not what you would call classically handsome. He had a nose that had been broken several times and healed crookedly and an unsightly scar ran from his left eyebrow to his jawbone. His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and messy, and his grey-blue eyes scanned the field with a bored calm that seemed dangerous.

A murmur went through the noble ladies.

“By all the flames of the Martyr,” whispered Lady Tilda, daughter of the Marquess of Coldby. “He looks like he’s been fighting his whole life.”

“He probably did fight his whole life,” replied her neighbor dryly. “Those are Marcher Knights to you. More glorified thugs than real knights.”

The Tower turned away without bowing to the royal box, without glancing at the noble ladies, without acknowledging the cheering crowd. He simply took his share of the prize money and strode toward the exit.

“Outrageous!” exclaimed the Earl of Ravenshire. “Not even a gesture of deference to His Majesty!”

“Perhaps,” Innogen’s father said thoughtfully, “he just knows his place. A common-born Marcher Knight who doesn’t pretend to be anything more than that. There’s a certain honesty in that.”

Valentina tore herself away from watching the Tower stride away and only now noticed Lorenzo, who was standing just a few seats away. He had been watching her. Not the end of the tournament round, but her.

Their eyes met.

There was a longing in his dark eyes that almost hurt her physically. Tomorrow he would become engaged to Innogen. Tomorrow everything would become official, final, irreversible.

She forced herself to look away, but not before she saw the resigned smile that flitted across his lips. He knew it too.

“This truly is a tricky situation,” Vyxara sighed. “Maybe we could-“

“Please, Vyxara, no half-baked ideas,” Valentina interrupted the demon in her thoughts. “If you have a good plan, I’m all ears, but I don’t want to get my hopes up for something that can’t be done.”

“Hmm… if I had a plan, what would you offer me in return?” Vyxara purred.

“See, that’s exactly what I was afraid of,” Valentina sighed inwardly. 

Duke Cosimo rose and patted the Duke of Southwatch on the shoulder with satisfaction. “An entertaining afternoon, wasn’t it? We should continue our conversation tonight. I’ve invited a few gentlemen to a private dinner, nothing formal, just a casual exchange among like-minded people.”

Devereux nodded slowly. “I’ll be there.”

Cosimo turned to the duchess, his hand brushing Valentina’s shoulder as if by accident, giving it a quick squeeze.

“My dear,” he said to Rosalind, “I’m afraid dinner will run late. You and your ladies need not wait for me.”

The Duchess smiled knowingly. “Of course not, my husband. I will retire.”

The nobles began to leave, a babble of conversation about the evening’s entertainment and tomorrow’s tournaments.

“Has anyone heard when exactly the Ashbourne-Greystone engagement will be announced?” asked a young baroness excitedly.

“During the tournament’s break,” Lady Bianca replied pompously. “Lord Lorenzo will compete in individual sword fighting, then they make the announcement during the break, and in the late afternoon the jousting will begin.”

“How romantic!” sighed the baroness. “Getting engaged after a victory…”

Lady Bianca raised her eyebrows in alarm. “Let’s hope he wins!”

Valentina pressed her lips together and followed the duchess to the waiting carriages.

“Tomorrow,” Vyxara murmured, “will be a test for all of you.”

“I am well aware of that,” Valentina thought back as she lifted the heavy skirt of her dress to climb into the carriage.

When they arrived, the duchess turned to her with a knowing smile. “You look exhausted, my dear. Take the evening off. My husband will be busy with his political machinations until late.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Valentina murmured with relief.

Lady Beatrice yawned discreetly. “A quiet evening sounds heavenly. Tomorrow will be exhausting enough.”

Tomorrow. The engagement.

In her chambers, Margaret helped her out of her afternoon gown. “A light supper in your chambers, Milady?”

“Yes, please. Nothing elaborate.”

When the door closed behind the servants, Valentina sank into the chair in front of her dressing table. In the mirror, she saw her own face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide and confused.

“What a day,” Vyxara murmured. “Your body still vibrates from the Tower’s display, your heart aches for Innogen, and tomorrow…”

“Stop,” whispered Valentina, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She got up and went to the sink, splashing cool water on her face. The memory of Innogen’s embrace burned on her skin. The desperate way her friend had clung to her as if she were drowning. And then Lorenzo’s gaze, that silent longing they both shared.

And the Tower… Valentina felt that heat rising again. The way he had moved, that raw, controlled power…

“You could go see him,” Vyxara suggested mischievously. “I’m sure he has a room in some tavern…”

“Don’t be silly.”

Alice brought dinner. It was a light meal of roasted chicken, fresh bread, a small salad, and a carafe of diluted wine. Valentina ate carelessly, so deep in thought was she.

After dinner, she opened her bookcase and took out several leather-bound volumes, theoretical works on Essence Weaving that she had brought with her from Bridgewater.

She settled into the comfortable armchair by the window, an Essence lamp beside her, its warm, steady light so much more pleasant for reading than flickering candles. The first book dealt with advanced Zît-Schate interaction theories, written by Magister Delgado of Padano.

“Academic distraction?” Vyxara asked gently.

“The best kind,” Valentina murmured, immersing herself in the complex diagrams.

The hours passed without Valentina noticing. She made notes in the margins, comparing Delgado’s theories with her own assumptions and experiences. Zît-Schate interactions were notoriously complicated, and she was particularly fascinated by Delgado’s meticulous explanation of why this was the case.

Delgado showed that a basic understanding of these complexities could help in using the two types of Essence together, which, according to him, could be very effective.

A soft knock interrupted her academic thoughts. Duke Cosimo’s personal valet stood in the doorway.

“His Grace awaits you, milady.”

Valentina nodded. She had expected it.

She quickly washed, dabbed perfume behind her ears and on her wrists, and put on a thin lavender-grey silk nightgown, one of Cosimo’s many gifts, and nothing else. He liked it when access was uncomplicated.

When she slipped through the door to his chambers, he was standing at the window, his doublet already half unbuttoned, a crystal glass of red wine in his hand.

“Ah, my beauty,” he murmured, pulling her toward him immediately. His lips found her neck. “A successful day. Devereux is as good as convinced.”

He pushed her backwards toward the bed as he spoke. “Tomorrow will be interesting. Several important announcements.” His fingers pushed up her nightgown. “Including Lorenzo’s engagement.”

He watched her face closely. Valentina forced herself to remain neutral.

“An advantageous union,” she said calmly.

“Indeed.” He smiled contentedly and pushed her onto the bed.

Valentina gasped and wrapped her legs around him. Her body reacted as it always did, but her mind wandered. Wandered to rough, calloused hands. To a nose broken multiple times and a scarred face. To grey-blue eyes that looked indifferently over a crowd…

“Thinking about the Tower while the duke is shagging you,” Vyxara chuckled as Valentina made a stifled sound at her climax. “How naughty.”

Then Cosimo groaned too, spilling himself into her while holding her hands firmly above her head in his. “Perfect,” he murmured against her shoulder.

Later, as they lay side by side drinking wine, he discussed the progress in Parliament. “The taxation measures will go through, I’m sure of it. Whitehall is practically convinced, and with Devereux on our side…”

He stroked her hair. “I’m thinking about how we can improve your social standing. The Order of the Primrose would be one possibility, but there are other ways…” He smiled mysteriously. “Let me think about it some more.”

“Interesting, he’s planning something for you,” Vyxara warned. “We’ll have to keep an eye on that.”

Finally, he kissed her one last time. “Go now, my dear. I have meetings tomorrow morning.”

Valentina put her nightgown back on and left his chambers. The house was dark and quiet, with only the occasional dim Essence lamp lighting her way, and yet for the first time it felt quite shabby and deserted, the way she wandered alone through the house back to her room.