Cold Steel
“Do you? At the mage House, I began to think what you most desired was the flattery and the attention of the other magisters and noblemen.”
“Was I that unkind to you?”
“You weren’t unkind. You were too kind. You were a little condescending. And you refused to see what was going on all around you.”
He shrugged out of the cutaway jacket and tossed it with the kerchief on the bed. “You know I will not force you to stay in a place that seems to you a prison. I admit I could not hear your complaints because I was too overwhelmed by my victory. But Lord of All, love, you might not have chosen such words to shake me.”
He meant the accusation I had thrown after him. “I spoke my worst fear, that you would become one of them.”
With a frown he wedged the back of the chair under the latch and sat on it to wrestle off his boots. “I am one of them.”
“You are not like your tormenters!” I sat on the bed, searching out the words I wanted to say without beating him over the head with them. “You are vain, my love. And you stand a little high upon your pride. I think Rory is right, that you are a tiny bit ashamed of where you come from and who your mother is, and then naturally because you are at heart a good son and a good man, you are ashamed of being ashamed.”
He set the boots against the wall, not looking at me, but I knew Rory’s words had made an impression on him. I also knew that as much as he struggled to control his worst impulses, he would never be a restful person to deal with. Rather like Bee, no matter what she thought about herself! Yet he had come back to face censure rather than walk away to a life he could easily lead without me.
“I do see what is going on among the mages, love, but that does not mean I will let it deter me. I never did before, and I will not now.” He examined me in the most searching way. “I do see you cannot live within the mage Houses as they are currently run. Even if I asked you to, I see that you will not. What do you mean to do, Catherine?”
“Kill James Drake. Camjiata believes he controls Drake, but Drake must be using catch-fires. If Drake becomes as powerful as Queen Anacaona, do you believe he will behave as she did, with respect for the law and the ancestors? What will happen to the general’s legal code then?”
He held my gaze. “You must promise me you will not challenge him unless there is absolutely no risk to you.”
“Like stabbing him in the back?”
“You have no way to defend yourself if he uses you as a catch-fire!”
“Even fire mages have to sleep. Of course I will be prudent.”
“It would be the first time,” he muttered. “I would feel better if you took Rory with you to watch your back.”
“I will. Vai, you must promise me you will not become the mage the mansa wants you to be.”
“I will not become that man. No matter how it may seem, I have had no change of heart. It always has been Kofi and the radicals of Expedition I stand with, since the day I met him. Just as it has always and only been you for me, Catherine, from the moment I saw you. But above everything, you and I must trust each other.”
Let kisses fall where they may: Desire may flourish or wither in the space of a breath. Trust is a rock that will withstand every storm.
I extended a hand. He took it between his. “I give you my trust, Vai.”
“Always,” he echoed. Releasing my hand, he rose to begin unbuttoning his waistcoat. “But next time, love, warn me beforehand so I can be prepared, or we can work out some better scheme.”
The practiced way his fingers worked the rounded pearl buttons distracted me.
“Catherine? Had you something to say?”
“Oh! Yes. Why not tell the mansa I escaped so as to prove what a valuable spy I can be?”
“Why would they believe such a story?” He tossed his waistcoat on top of the jacket.
“They won’t know for sure, will they? If the mansa truly means you to be his heir, then he must allow you to prove yourself. As an explanation, it may serve to put them on the defensive…”
As he pulled off his shirt, I forgot what I was going to say.
“Go on,” he said.
At the dressing table he poured water into the basin and set in on his evening ablutions, washing his face and teeth and then using a damp cloth to wipe down his bare torso. In the midst of this he paused, wrinkling his brow as he pretended to be puzzled by my silence.
“Catherine? Had you more to say?”
A wave of aggravation swept me. Curse the man for being so attractive. “Andevai, those are gorgeous clothes and you look very handsome in them… or out of them… but if you do not hang them on the clothes rack they will get creased and rumpled.”