Eighteen
Cassandra stepped into the champion's apartments, wondering how on earth she would explain everything to Gwendolyn and May. She wanted to tell them the truth but couldn't be sure if they could manage the deception. No, she would take Dominic's lead and pretend by all outward appearances that he was his father.
"Oh, my lady," breathed Gwen, launching herself at Cass's skirts. "Ye see, May? Yer coat did work. She's alive."
The older girl blinked away her tears. "My magic isn't strong enough to withstand an elven lord."
"Maybe not," replied Cass, thinking of that tenuous moment when a wisp of a dream had given her the added strength she'd needed. "But it gave me enough of a distraction to do what needed to be done, May. I thank you for the gift."
The girl smiled, but Gwen let go of her skirts and stared up at her with a frown. "What needed to be done?"
Cass took a deep breath. "The champion betrayed the Imperial Lord. For his treason, Mor'ded… destroyed him."
"The champion?" Gwen's voice cracked and Cass could tell she fought a sob. Dominic would be gratified to know that their servants had become fond of him. Or rather, he would have been gratified if he could have continued to exist beyond this day. She must try to keep her thoughts consistent with their new reality, or she would likely stumble.
"We cannot refer to him ever again, my dears. Do you understand? But for May's coat, I would not have survived Mor'ded's wrath myself. My life is precarious at the moment, in more ways than you can ever know. I am only lucky that the Imperial Lord desires me in his bed."
"His bed?"
"Yes. He seems… intrigued by the idea that I can produce another champion for him. And so he will try himself."
"That's awful," breathed May.
"But the champion already got ye pregnant," said Gwen.
"It's untrue. And Mor'ded does not like to be deceived."
For the first time, Gwendolyn gave her mistress a look that lacked the usual gleam of adoration. "Why would ye lie about it? Why would the Imperial Lord flame the champion for that?"
"There is more involved, Gwen. Dominic challenged his father for possession of the scepter."
Both girls gasped.
"And he lost. A reminder to us all that we cannot challenge the rule of the elven lords." Lady Cassandra drew herself up to her not-so-considerable full height and slapped her hands together. "Come now. I need your help. Mor'ded's rooms were left in a shambles after the… encounter, and I've been given strict instructions to clean up the mess and move in my things."
"Just like that, my lady?" whispered Gwen.
"We are to live in the Imperial Lord's apartment?" squeaked May.
"No, of course not." Cass ignored Gwen's whisper. "There is a small chamber adjacent to his rooms where you can sleep."
Gwen grimaced. "And ye will sleep with him?"
"And we will all make the best of it." Cassandra clutched her throat as her voice broke. It had been a long day already. "We are women and must be strong, no matter what the circumstances. I was given to the champion without a say in the matter. How is this any different?"
The girls both nodded and followed her down the hall, hesitating in the doorway, hazel eyes riveted to the floor of ash and blackened remains of the furniture. Several other servants were already at work cleaning up the mess, and Lady Cassandra directed them to box up the ash and give it to her. She took the box into the passageway to the door to the false Elfhame and left it there for Dominic to take within.
It took only a few hours to clear the rest of the room and scrub it clean. Cass draped a silk cloth over the crystal near the door and another over the desk across the room. She left the empty pots that had once held the pink pods, hoping to fill them with flowers from the elven garden—those that did not sing, leastways. Then she oversaw the transfer of the furniture from her old apartments to these new, larger ones. She allowed only Meg and Gwen to carry her more delicate pieces, the glassware and vases and display cases. She instructed the girls to give Dominic's old clothing to the servants, to be given to the poor.
The other servants spoke barely a word while they worked, in awe of being in the elven lord's apartments. They avoided looking at the iridescent walls, which made Cass so queasy herself that she decided to cover as much of them as she could with tapestries. When most of the heavy work was done, the servants nodded eagerly when she dismissed them, near running out the door.
Lady Cassandra glanced around the room in satisfaction. It looked nothing like the bare apartment Mor'ded had occupied, and her moving in as his mistress would satisfy anyone's curiosity about the changes.
Good heavens, she could no longer think of herself as Dominic's wife. She would become the Imperial Lord's lover.
She sighed and allowed a very silent Gwendolyn to assist in choosing her clothing for the ball. God knew the truth of her love for Dominic, and that would have to suffice.
He returned while May put the finishing touches on her coiffure, looking entirely too much like his father, his face frozen in a disdainful mask. But he glanced around the room and his shoulders relaxed, and he strode to her dressing table and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Well done, love."
May dropped her brush and Gwendolyn let out a soft gasp.
Cassandra winced and pretended to pull away from Dominic, but it proved difficult. She ignored the girls' reactions. "How did it fare with the men?"
He nodded, silver hair falling about his cheeks, exposing the tips of his pointed ears. "They will not miss their general. And their fear of his fate will keep them in line until I can appoint another to oversee them."
They had believed him, then. They had not recognized their own commander.
"But I thought you wished to command them yourself."
"Ah, too boring, my dear. Let's hope you breed me another champion who can do the task better than my current choices." He strode to the door of the room that held his clothing and washstand. "Now make haste with your toilette. We have a trial to oversee before the ball."
"A trial?"
He spun, his eyes narrowed, his beautiful mouth grim. "There are several children awaiting their trials, and it was scheduled for this eve. You wouldn't want to deny them the right to go to Elfhame as quickly as possible, would you?"
Cass allowed her sorrow to reflect in her eyes and for a moment, saw it mirrored back at her within his own. Then he glanced at May and disappeared into his dressing room.
She had a sudden impulse to dismiss her two servants so Dominic wouldn't have to veil his words to her. So they wouldn't have to continue the charade in their private apartments. But she knew it would be best that they got used to their roles and maintained them at all times.
Just like Dominic had done for most of his life, pretending to have no heart.
Lady Cassandra stood and gazed at herself in the mirror. Gwen had chosen a silver satin mantua studded with tiny gemstones that sparkled with her every movement, the train flowing several feet behind her. Gemstones studded a narrow girdle and the toes of her shoes. May had woven even more gemstones in her hair, so skillfully that each gem could not be seen; instead her hair just appeared to glow from the candles' reflection.
May had retrieved the invisible mantle from where it had apparently been set down during her change of clothing, for she draped air about Cass then gave her shoulders a final pat.
Cass had stubbornly refused the powder in her hair and a patch on her face.
Dominic emerged from his dressing room. "Shall we go?"
Her pulse fluttered and she turned. He stood in a coat of silver satin, studded with buttons of gemstone, ruffles at his wrists and throat. His waistcoat and breeches matched, his shoes glittering with diamond buckles. The scepter lay at his side in place of his usual sword, in a sheath of soft leather bleached as pale as his outfit.
His skin looked a golden cream in contrast, his eyes deeper than midnight.
His lip quirked, and Cass could breathe again.
"It seems we are of the same mind this evening. You look ravishing, my love." And he strode across the room, gathered her in his arms, crushing her against him with a kiss that left her breathless.
When they parted Cass turned to Gwen and May to bid them good eve, when she noticed the look they exchanged.
They knew. They knew that Dominic stood at her side and not Mor'ded. Would others see through their lie as easily?
The girls had been sullen most of the day, nearterrorized when Dominic had entered the room. Now they both smiled, their hazel eyes winking as if they'd been studded with gemstones like Cass's hair.
"Good night, my lady," they said in unison, bobbing brief curtsies.
Cass looked deeply into their eyes. They knew, but they would not reveal the truth. When Gwendolyn winked at her, she gave the girl a tremulous smile. May quickly jabbed her elbow into the younger girl's side, frowning and shaking her head. No, they would not reveal the truth. But May stepped forward, pinching her fingers over Cassandra's shoulders, dragging the invisible cloak down her back. "I do not think you will need this any longer, my lady."
Because she lived her dreams with her true love at her side.
Cass nodded and allowed her husband—no, her lover—to escort her from the room into the private passage. She noticed with relief that the box of ashes next to the stout oak door had been removed, but Dominic said nary a word of it, his face a mask of pure arrogant elf.
"Sometimes," he whispered as they walked through the silent, gloomy passage, "the children are hurt during the trials."
Cass squeezed his hand. She didn't remember any pain from her own trial but did not doubt that Mor'ded might often "play" with children from the lower classes. "You don't have it in your nature to hurt a child, Dom—"
He stopped and placed a finger gently over her lips. "Do not call me that, even in private."
She nodded and for a brief moment he replaced his finger with his lips, the warmth and tenderness of his kiss an affirmation of her faith in him. He laid his cheek atop her head.
"Father used the scepter to challenge the children with magic. Any of their own latent magic would rise in defense of the attack. If they lacked the higher powers…"
"I understand. Is there some way you can just pretend to test them? After all, we have no intention of sending any of the children to the false Elfhame."
"I thought of that," he replied, his jaw moving in her hair. "It would be too dangerous. A truly powerful child can cause a lot of damage until their magic is under control, and if they are discovered by the other elven lords—no, we must test them and keep them hidden until they can be of use." He stepped away from her and held her by the shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "I want you to find a moment to speak with Walpole this eve."
"Of course. But Dom—my love, we will have to expose our secret. Are you sure you want to take the risk?"
"I see no other way. Not if we are to help the children."
"You appear to have thought of a plan for the chosen already."
He let loose a sigh. "I do not know how long we will be able to keep up this charade, if we shall even make it through the night. But as long as we are able to, we can save the children born with enough elven blood to wield a scepter."
"But chosen ones are rare. There are only two of you in England right now and even that is unusual. And the other sovereignties will continue to cull them… It was sheer chance one of Breden's bastards had hidden in Firehame. It may take decades to save a child with the same power to match the other scepters."
His big hands squeezed her shoulders. "That's why I want you to tell Walpole to spread the word among the Rebellion. That the children are going to their doom, and they must avoid the trials and find refuge in Firehame."
"They have already been trying to save children from going to Elfhame… but now that they know the full truth, perhaps they will be more successful. Still, I don't think the common people will believe it. They won't want to believe it. For some it is the only happiness they can offer their children. Besides, even if a chosen one can wield the scepter, the odds of them looking enough like the Imperial Lord to take his place are unlikely."
"I doubt we will replace another impostor over a sovereignty," he calmly replied. "But their powers are weakened without the scepters. The disruption to the barrier when I took the scepter from Mor'ded is proof of that. Even if a half-breed can't wield the scepter, they can steal it. Perhaps if we managed to take every elven lord's scepter…"
"It is more hope than we've ever had before. I think you should speak with Sir Robert about your plan."
"I intend to. On the morrow. First we must see if we can even manage this charade for the night." He picked up her arm again and headed for the door that led to the throne. "After I find a way to protect the children from my—Mor'ded's trial."
Cass realized he'd almost said "myself." She realized at that moment how truly strong she would have to be. She must keep him from losing himself in the part he must play. "I have faith in you," she said as he opened the door. "As does God."
He threw her a disgruntled look, but she only smiled at him as he led her out onto the dais. Cass blinked a moment, adjusting her eyes to the light, and then she saw most of the court clustered about the room.
She watched their faces as Dominic took the throne and she stationed herself next to it, one hand lying atop the back of the smooth marble. She didn't know how many people usually managed to witness a trial, but it seemed to her that an extraordinary number had shown up. The nobles had dressed in their finest in anticipation of the ball that would follow. An eerie silence settled over the hall as they watched Dominic nod at the first child standing in line to be presented.
An eager-eyed father escorted the young boy up the dais then quickly abandoned the child to resume his position on the floor. Cass imagined Mor'ded didn't allow anyone upon the dais except for himself and the child to be tested, judging by the looks she received from the assembled.
She easily spotted Lady Verney, by her height and the feathers in her hair that accentuated it. A bewildered expression pinched her thin face as she looked back and forth between Cassandra and the Imperial Lord. Indeed, half the court watched her with expressions ranging from confusion to disgust to self-satisfaction… as if they'd known all along she sought nothing but the power of the throne.
Lady Agnes actually winked at her.
Cassandra cringed, her fingers turning white as they clenched at the smooth marble beneath them.
And then her eyes met those of Sir Robert Walpole, and the expression in that dark piercing gaze made her knees go weak. He suspected. But unlike May and Gwendolyn, he wasn't quite sure he recognized the son in the role of the father. He gave her a low bow of respect.
Lady Cassandra straightened her back and raised her chin.
The Imperial Lord frowned at the child presented before him, and only Cass could see the slight rise of his chest as he took a breath before raising his scepter at the boy. White fire sprouted from the tip of it; Cass could feel the cold from where she stood. It hit the child square in his small chest and he grunted in surprise, his grubby hands automatically lifted in defense. A small white flame of his own blocked the scepter's attack.
Dominic quickly followed with a twist of gray flame, then a measure of yellow, each time reducing the strength of each power. When the child countered them all, Cass inwardly groaned. The next fire would be the orange, and although not as damaging as the red, it could possibly hurt the child.
The Imperial Lord hesitated, the scepter falling onto his muscled thigh, and the assembled began to whisper among themselves, wondering at the delay.
She knew Dominic would not do it. He would not risk harming the child. And then their charade would be exposed. But she could not regret that he'd found his human heart, and would rather face the combined wrath of the elven lords than have her beloved reclaim his elven coldness.
Lady Cassandra moved her arm from the back of the chair to his strong shoulder, feeling the tightness in the muscles. "I have faith," she murmured.
He did not look at her, but she felt his determination as he raised the scepter again. A ray of the blue healing fire streamed from the rod, encompassing the child, making him glow from head to ragged foot. And the orange fire followed on the heels of it.
The child tried to defend against the greater power, but he couldn't combat the flame with orange fire of his own. He shook in fear but not pain, for the healing blue protected the boy from harm.
Cass almost sobbed aloud in relief. She'd married a very clever man. Perhaps they would manage this deception after all.
Dominic halted the flow of magic and imitated the sardonic laughter of his father so well that Cass shivered.
"Sorry, boy. No trip to Elfhame for you. Next!"
The child stumbled from the dais, relief and disappointment warring on his freckled face.
As they had thought, none of the children showed the slightest inclination for the higher powers, and the flames they managed to raise in defense of the scepter barely blocked the small amount of magic Dominic threw at them. And only one of the children possessed the magic from another sovereignty, a child whose bloodline must have come from the elven lord of Dreamhame, for she crafted an illusion of red flame that nearly fooled them, until Dominic realized it did not counter his attack. Indeed, he'd had to quickly strengthen the protection of the blue flame around the girl.
Cass had been so absorbed in the trials that she'd forgotten their audience. As the last child left the dais, she glanced up at the sudden silence and froze in fear.
Sir Robert no longer suspected the truth. He knew. His eyes glittered with understanding and an odd sort of triumph, surely calculating how he could use this sudden development in the Rebellion's cause. Since Cass had intended to tell him the truth, his certainty did not alarm her.
But Lady Verney now gazed at Lady Cassandra in sudden understanding, a slow smile spreading across her thin lips. A few of the other lords and ladies who'd looked confused by Dominic's wife standing at Mor'ded's side shared the same expression.
The blue flame. The Imperial Lord had never thought to protect those whom he tested. They suspected the truth.
Dominic rose and extended his strong hand to her, and as she slipped her fingers in it, she met his eyes. He knew as well that several of the court had guessed that he wasn't Mor'ded. He raised one pale brow and gave an almost imperceptible shrug of those broad shoulders.
They would play it out.
Lady Cassandra followed him down the steps of the dais while the crowd parted to allow them passage. As one, the assembled bowed to them, murmuring "Imperial Lord" over and over. Dominic halted when he reached the king, who of them all, was not required to bow in homage.
"Your Majesty," said Dominic, his voice smooth and strong.
"Your Most High," replied the much shorter man, craning his neck to look up at Dominic. "The trial was most interesting. You and your new mistress"— his eyes flicked to Cass—"look stunning together in your silver satin. I congratulate you on your new relationship. You have the loyalty of my court."
"Indeed?"
"Forgive me for interrupting," said Walpole, straightening his own bow with a quick grunt, "but it appears you have also managed to acquire the loyalty of the people as well, Imperial Lord. Most unusual for an elven lord."
Dominic gave the man a twisted grimace. "I hold the scepter, Walpole. I don't give a damn who is loyal." And with the lie on his lips he swept Cassandra from the room, guiding her through the silent passages leading to the ballroom.
"They know," whispered Cass as they trod a velvet carpet past crystal globes that held liquid fire. "The king assured us of the court's support and Walpole guaranteed the people's."
"I know." Dominic abruptly stopped, pulled her into his arms. "I just don't know why."
"Don't you?" Cass lifted a hand, caressed that strong jaw, stared into his beautiful face. He had never looked more like an angel than he did at this moment. "You gained the loyalty of the court by revealing your suffering to them. The loyalty of the people by using your power to heal them during the fire. They want the freedom of England even more than we do, and have placed their confidence in you to gain it. They will not betray us."
He frowned, the expression making his beauty seem a bit more human. "I am used to living a life of deception, Cassandra. But you…"
"Hush. I'm used to giving my life to the Rebellion, but now I have your love to sustain me. I ask for no more."
"Indeed?" He bent down and kissed her, a brush of warm lips. She would always feel her heart soar at the touch of his mouth.
When Dominic raised his head, his frown had turned to a hesitant smile. "Come," he urged, dragging her through the hallway, toward the open doors of the ballroom. "If it were within my power, I would offer you a different life. Ours will be filled with intrigue and danger and difficulty, but I promise you that I will also fill it with nights like this."
Lady Cassandra stepped into the ballroom and gasped. The new Imperial Lord had used the power of white fire to create a sparkling wonderland. Tiny starbursts created strands of glittering threads that hung from the ceiling, occasionally dropping one shining flake to fall to the floor like a shower of radiant snow. Between the strands dripped stalactites of white fire, near meeting the stalagmites that grew from the floor. Glittering fire sparkled along the walls, created a smooth expanse of unbroken white at their feet.
White mist swirled in the air, reached out to curl around Cass's waist like a cool caress, urging her to join the dance. She knew that despite all the dangers they faced, it would be worth the nights she could spend with Dominic.
"Shall we, my lady?"
She nodded and held out her hand to him, smiling as she caught sight of her wedding ring. The petals had unfurled into a glorious blossom of hope and love and happiness.
And then her lover swept her into his arms, into a sparkling world of magic and mystery.