The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [69]
“I…No,” he said.
“But then I got to know you better, and I understood that you would have done that for anyone. Yes, you were pursuing Anne, but even if you had known neither of us, you would have done the same thing.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cazio said.
“I would. You are like an actor on a stage, Cazio, only what you’re acting out is your own life. You contrive your speech and your mannerisms; you pose near constantly. But beneath all that, whether you know it or not, the thing you are pretending to be—you really are. And now that I understand that, I understand that I love you all the more. I also understand you don’t love me.”
Cazio’s belly tightened. “Austra—”
“No, hush. You don’t. You like me. You like kissing me. But you don’t love me. Maybe you love Anne. I’m not sure about that part, but you understand now, don’t you, that you can’t have her?”
She was crying, and Cazio suddenly wanted nothing more than to stop those tears, but he felt strangely paralyzed.
“I know you dallied with me to make her jealous. And knowing you, the fact that Anne is unattainable probably makes her all the more enticing. But I’m here, Cazio, and I love you, and even if you don’t feel the same, I want you, want whatever you can give me.” She pushed the tears away and defiantly took a step closer.
“I’ve nearly died a dozen times in the last year. I’ve been lucky, but things are only going to get worse. I don’t think I’ll see my next birthday, Cazio. I really don’t. And before I die, I want—I want to be with you. Do you understand? I won’t expect marriage, or love, or even flowers, but I want you, now, while there’s still time.”
“Austra, have you really thought about this?”
“They were talking about raping me, Cazio,” Austra said. “You think I want to lose my virginity like that? Am I so ugly that—”
“Stop,” he said, holding up his hand, and she did. Her eyes seemed larger than usual, gentle shadows on her face. “You know better than that.”
“I know better than nothing.”
“Really? You seem to know quite a lot about me,” he said. “What I feel, what I don’t feel. Well, let me tell you, Austra Eleistotara—”
“Laesdautar,” she corrected.
“However you pronounce it,” he said. “My point is—”
“What is your point?”
“It—” He stopped, looked at her for a second, and the moment came back to him, just before the slinders attacked them, when he had seen her tied up, and the men who had taken her, saw that it was Austra and not Anne.
He took her by both shoulders and kissed her. Her lips were cold at first and unresponsive, but then they quivered against his, and her arms reached around him, and she sighed as her body butted against him.
“My point,” he said, pulling away after a long, long time, and he was reasonably sure of what he meant to say. “My point is that you do not understand me half so well as you think you do. Because I do love you.”
“Oh,” she said as he pulled her close again. “Oh.”
When the servant closed the door behind her, Anne collapsed onto the bed, listening to the faint wisp of buskins on stone until they vanished.
Dinner had been almost unbearable; it had been an age since she had eaten at a formal table, and though Elyoner’s board was rowdier than most, still she felt the need to sit with her spine straight and attempt to make witty conversation. She’d eschewed the wine that might have helped relax her, because the idea of alcohol still sickened her a bit. The meal had been delicious, judging by the reactions of her companions, but she scarcely had noticed the taste of anything.
Now, finally, she had what she’d wanted for, well, months.
She was alone.
She reached for the foot of the bed, where a wooden lion’s head kept sentinel at the top of the post. She rubbed the glass-smooth crown of it.
“Hello, Lew.” She sighed.
It was all so familiar and so strange at the same time. How many times had she stayed in this room? Once a year, nearly. The first time she remembered she’d been about six, and Austra five. Elseny, Anne’s middle sister, had been eight. It was the first time Fastia, the eldest, had been put in charge