Page 22 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
“Oh,” she said sweetly, “did you let me win?”
He inclined his head, his eyes lingering on her face as he extracted his body from hers. “I would never.”
Miri smiled despite herself and realized it was the first time she had since Pirn and the sorcerers in the market.
Cass slid his sword into its sheath. “Dinner,” he said. “Then stories.”
Miri’s smile would not return, but she managed a nod.
Cass was trying to draw the details from her, but Miri was not yet able to let them go. What had happened the day her mother had been murdered had simultaneously been seared into her memory, unable to leave her alone, and was unbearable to look at directly, like the sun, impossible desires, wishes that could never come true, or truths that would never be less real.
“Did you know that Henry was a childhood friend of my grandfather?” Cass poked at the fire with a broken tree limb, settling the logs before he started heating the pot.
Miri shook her head.
He went on, though he did not stop in his task to look at her. “They grew up south of Ravensgate, one the son of a well-to-do lord and the other the son of a river captain.”
“Seems an unlikely pair.” Miri sat on the ground behind where he worked, curling her legs beneath her before stretching them out again. She was still restless and would be glad when news finally came—when it was over.
“Aye. But it seems the lord enjoyed a bit of gambling, so when he found himself down at the docks, Henry’s father would leave the boy outside the establishment—not fit for a young man of stature—to fend for himself.”
Cass glanced over his shoulder at Miri’s soft laugh.
“And your grandfather was a captain’s son?”
“Yes. They immediately fell in together, peering through windows at seedy goings-on and joining in street games with somewhat lower stakes. It wasn’t long before they were fellows, and young Henry had inherited an estate.” Cass situated the pot over the fire and moved back to sit beside Miri. His elbow rested over his knee, his attention, by all appearances, in the distance.
Cass was good, Miri realized. Maybe he hadn’t spent his time training entirely in weapons and duty. Maybe he’d learned something of extracting information and making his prey fall into comfort.
“Henry offered to use his connections, but apparently, my grandfather refused the help. He wanted to make it on his own.” Cass gave Miri a look that implied he did not altogether believe Henry had not done his part, but he didn’t say so outright. “So by the time my father was born, the two families were closer in social stature. Eventually, my father and his brothers were sent to the same tutors as had attended Henry, despite my family being lesser in the eyes of some.”
“A ship captain is no less a man than a lord. I’ve known enough lords to see how little they actually accomplish.”
Cass chuckled at Miri’s assessment. “In matters of toil or money, that’s certainly true. But not in social status. Not the power they hold.”
“Power is an illusion. Any man can gain or lose it by a toss of the dice.” The words came automatically, and she could tell by the way Cass averted his gaze that he remembered too. It was something her mother had said. Miri had not understood when she was a child that the words, though spoken lightly, could be taken as a threat, which was especially effective when coming from a queen.
“Soon after, preparation began for the coronation of the young Lion Queen and, with it, openings for Henry and my grandfather in the royal guard.”
Miri leaned forward. “But the guard doesn’t marry until they retire. How could your grandfather have had a son so young?”
“His arm was broken in a training accident.”
Cass’s tone made it clear that there was more to the story. Miri hoped it was not that it had been broken because of a social standing before entering the guard.
“So he retired early.” He gave Miri a crooked grin. “And immediately started having sons.”
“Only sons?” Miri plucked at a piece of grass, unable to take her eyes from Cass too long.
“As far as he was concerned, every one would pick up a blade.”
“Sounds like he was looking for redress.”
Cass shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe so. But my father was soon a member of the queensguard.”
“And his son a bloodsworn.” The words came thickly off Miri’s tongue. She cleared her throat. “Unexpected that you would end up at a port after all he’d done to escape it.”
“Yes,” Cass said. “Unexpected.”
