THE SABLE SPY | CHAPTER FIVE
"I AM A PRISONER," Cassalyn loudly announced at breakfast two days later, sauntering into the room. Her bandaged arm swung around beside her, hurting but not enough for her to be heavily inconvenienced. She'd suffered much worse. After much haggling and generally making a nuisance of herself, they had begrudgingly allowed her to leave her comfortable but quickly tiring spot on the sickbed. She spent the next twenty-four hours stumbling around the house she spent so many years in, waiting for the boys to come back from their second attempt at gathering information on her mysterious assassin.
Cadieux ignored her. Laurence looked up, faintly amused, a small smile dancing on his lips. Marcus was deeply engrossed in some newspaper. She glanced at the other people in the room. There was little Benjamin, who would no doubt become a dangerous spy in a few years, but for now resembled more an adorable, excitable little toddler. Perhaps not, since he was already seventeen and as tall as Marcus, but it felt that way to her, and that was all she cared about. Seylace's usual seat was empty, only a half-finished coffee cup left behind. Georgie would frown about that later.
"Would you prefer going out and getting shot?" Marcus finally asked after a moment of silence, glancing up from the paper.
"I would prefer not having to read about old dead men from thousands of years ago telling me how I must think and live." Most of the books in the house were philosophy or history. Boring things. Cadieux's, most likely.
"And I would greatly love if someone refurbished this damned ugly dining room, but we don't always get what we want, do we?" Laurence sounded from across the room as Cass slumped into her seat next to Cadieux, who was staring into his food as if he hadn't heard a word. "Four days, my dear Cass, and you get to prance around a beautiful ballroom as people gawk, point and stare at you. Is that what you want?"
"You forget to mention the fact that I'd most probably have a rifle pointed at my heart. But yes, Dumont. I think I'd prefer even that to this cursed boredom. It feels like purgatory."
"One would think you'd be more familiar with the feeling of hell," Marcus muttered under his breath. Being tactful and elegant, they all chose to ignore him. It seemed to be something they all did a lot, ignoring people.
"I have made a list of people who might be this Saian noblemen," Cass told them. "But none of them quite fit. If one has motive to kill me, they don't have a reason to try such a deal with Gana. Or they don't have the resources to do so. Or the profit they should have gotten from it does not match their lifestyle. I do not suppose any of you have any luck?"
"Turns out, a lot of Saians came to Caling this year for the social season. We have a comprehensive list, I think. I'll show it to you later. You can compare it to your own," Laurence said.
Little Benjamin raised his eyebrow. "Have any of you considered the possibility that this Saian is not in Arecia at all? Or chose not to reveal to everyone that they're here?"
"Of course we have, we're not idiots," Cass snorted. "But whoever is doing this knows I'm hard to kill. Most likely, realising how dire the situation was, they'd have come to make sure the job is done by themselves. Even if they are not, they would know I was at the Vallerings' ball soon enough and realise I am very much alive and happily breathing. They'd try to finish the job."
"They'd be expecting it," Cadieux muttered. "That's what worries me. They'd know it was a trap. There's many ways to kill one girl, Cass, especially if someone is ruthless and idiotic."
"I'll stay away from the windows," she offered. "Maybe you should test all my food."
"If they're clever enough to kill her here, they'll manage it, no matter what we try to stop them." Marcus sounded very disturbed. "Let's pray to god we're dealing with someone less skilled."
"The ambush was sloppy," Laurence shrugged. "I don't think we're dealing with professionals. Very disheartening. I much prefer dealing with those. Amateurs are stupid. Reckless. They do not think before they act, so they are unpredictable. Someone recognised one of the men. Hired randomly, most likely."
"I almost got killed by a bunch of amateurs. Wonderful. Now can we stop discussing murder at the breakfast table?"
"Who was the man?" Cadieux pressed.
"One of Ole' Bailey's men."
"Explains the half-planned ambush. There's a reason Bailey's dead now. Mercenaries and thugs, then, hired off the streets for gold. You won't find much there."
Georgie took the moment to walk in. Her eyes glazed over the table, noting the half-empty coffee cups before she wrinkled her nose. "Remind me to throttle Seylace when he comes back. My cooking and brewing deserves much more respect than he's offering them right now." She scowled, stomping over to remove the cup. "The rest of you better clear your dishes, or there will be consequences." She gave Cadieux a daughterly kiss on the cheek before vanishing out of sight.
"A house of spies and assassins, but Georgie manages to be the most terrifying anyways. Astonishing," Laurence snickered, taking a sip from his tea. It was a morning routine for them. Laurence and Marcus tended to spend their nights here. It was, possibly, one of the reasons Laurence was so renowned for being a rake. He never did seem to spend any nights in his own bed, though for completely different reasons than people believed.
"You should have met her mother, if you find her scary," Cadieux mused. Immediately, the room grew a bit more somber. Cadieux's sister had died tragically in a carriage accident years prior. It seemed like such an anticlimactic way to go for the wife and sister of spies. Georgie's father had died a few months later, growing reckless and disregarding his own safety after the death of his beloved wife. Shot by a bunch of Caeshiremen who mistook him for an enemy spy. Justice had not been served, Arecia and Caershire's newfound peace too important to sacrifice for the unnecessary death of one single spy.
Quietly, Benjamin excused himself to go on whatever mission had been assigned to him. The rest of them fell into a comfortable silence, eating their food, until Cass said, "Has there been no word from Ciri?" She didn't say it, but they could tell she was worried. She hadn't bothered hiding it.
"Kuroki sent us a message informing us that she had not been able to keep extreme close contact with your sister, since her mission was... unsanctioned." A glare in her direction. "I assume she was doing the investigation she promised you." Cadieux pinched his nose. "You two are going to drive us all into an early grave. Did Ciri say nothing to you of her destination?"
Cass shook her head.
"She'll be fine, most likely. Watch her suddenly appear in a few days laughing and joking as we all suppress the urge to strangle her. She does it all the time," Marcus told her reassuringly. She did not want his comfort, so she turned away. Cass could almost feel his disappointment. She pretended not to notice.
"Is it possible this truly is some vendetta against both of us, and not just an issue of corruption?" She asked quietly, placing two fingers on her temple and rubbing. "It would explain her silence, which is rare, and the coincidental timing of my attack. Where could have Ciri gone?"
"Kuroki said that she believes Ciri took a ship to Barlen."
"Barlen, the seaside city? Is there anything interesting in Barlen that would attract my sister?" Cass asked, frowning, her eyebrows creased.
"They have good seafood," Laurence supplied. That was his way of saying he didn't know. "Does it concern anyone that Ciri has vanished in a seaside port city, after our dear Cass was chased from an island of trading by angry men with knives?"
"You are suggesting we were lured there and targeted. It does not explain the corruption and treasonous agreement I found. And why lure us there in the first place? Gira and Barlen. Neither are excellent spots for murder and assassination. I, personally, prefer Sial Corner. Dirty and busy. No one would ever notice or find the body."
Marcus huffed. "You know every cranny of Sial Corner. That itself is enough reasoning not to try and kill you there. How many times have you been to Gira?"
"Twice. I went as a girl, you see, when we were still living like kings and queens in Sai. I was six. No, seven. Ciri did not accompany us, since she was only two or three. My mama and baba died shortly after we returned."
"A place you're unfamiliar with. Why did you suddenly decide to go to Gira?"
"I heard some of my cousins talking about it, I think. They were discussing some of the very messy politics there. I was much intrigued and did my own research."
"Are we sure this isn't a family spat?"
"I doubt anyone in my family would be involved in a decade-long, very illegal and treasonous contract that would cause an international incident shall it be revealed. We are all trying very hard to be good, law-abiding citizens, Dalton."
"Your cousin, that one who owns the trading company, he'd have contacts in Gira. Barlen too, most likely."
"Cousin Frances?" Cass asked, her face twisted in a snarl. "We like each other very much. He is also a favourite of my great-aunt. He gains nothing from killing me or Ciri, I assure you."
"The Honourable Frances Diao," Laurence muttered. "He's in town, Cass, did you know that?"
"No, but I am not surprised. As you said, he owns a trading company. He's often travelling around, signing contracts and business deals and those sorts of things. Perhaps I'll pay a call on him later, or send a note. It seems the polite thing to do."
"You'll see him at the Vallerings' ball. Send him a note before that, just so he isn't completely caught off-guard. When did our Mr Diao arrive?" Cadieux asked, glancing at Laurence and Marcus, who were the ones gathering information.
"Almost three weeks ago. All clear, I think," Laurence declared. "I'll back Ciri's instincts on this one. That man doesn't have a murderous bone in his body. We've met."
"How they produced so many harmless children and then birthed Cassalyn and Cirinique, I will never understand." Marcus placed down his paper and finished his bread, leaving only crumbs. No complaining from Georgie there. "We're still in square one. I'm not fond of that. If this was an amateur, they are a very skilled amateur."
"Or just pure luck," Laurence said testily, "which is not much better. Did I mention that I hate dealing with amateurs?"
"You're free to keep searching until the ball, but I doubt you'd find anything. The trail's gone cold. We'll need to reheat it. I'll have Georgie get your measurements, Cass, and head to the modiste to make you a few good gowns. The ones you brought from Gira are hideous and completely wrong for the occasion."
"Coming from you, who is so well informed on the latest fashion."
"I don't have to be a bloody genius to realise grey, woolen gowns are most definitely not the rage this season," Cadieux snorted. "If anyone asks..."
"If anyone asks, I unexpectedly decided to pop into Arecia for a quick visit. And I am staying at Marcus's father and mother's, as they are such pinnacles of kindness and like me very much. You will sneak me out of Borewood Street and dump me at the Dalton's, where I will change and get ready. I know. You've all only told me a few thousand times." A cover story. One that wouldn't withstand much scrutiny, but was logical enough no one would do so in the first place. Cass was widely considered an enigma by high society. She held herself differently, was foreign, an exile yet so rich. She travelled around, mostly alone, making her a bit of a scandal, and was rumoured to be involved in intelligence gathering, but had too many friends in high places for anyone to dare give her the cut or insult her.
"My mother's offered for you to live there completely if necessary."
Cadieux gave the suggestion some thought. "It is possible. Security is tight, and they wouldn't dare break into the Arecian Foreign Secretary's own house. Even the most idiotic amateur murderer would realise the consequences were more than they could bear. We'll move you there after the ball. We'll have to post a few men there, of course."
"I like your mother," she said.
I'm not sure about you, she wanted to add.
Marcus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "I'll tell them. My parents are rather curious to see you. Have you met?"
"During the attempted marriage negotiations. They did not, as you'd expect, want to bound their only son to life with an unsuitable girl. They were rather fond of me, which was very surprising. My cousins were betting I'd send them running with one glare. I did not glare."
"Of course you didn't." He was teasing her. She almost smiled, but then remembered herself and kept her face icily impassive. Laurence looked on with the most curious expression, faintly amused, faintly mocking. She raised her eyebrow and he smirked before turning away. Busybody. Between Cadieux and him, both she and Marcus would be driven halfway to an asylum before the week's end. Hopefully different ones.
Coward.
She ignored her stupid brain and continued listening to the conversation. It had turned to something less bloody and violent now, something about politics. Normally she'd be intrigued. Today she did not care. She finished her food and stood up to leave.
She was almost to her new bedroom when a voice sounded behind her. "Cass, wait."
It was Marcus. And her worst nightmare had finally caught up. Her grip tightened around the staircase railings. She slowly turned around, and let her words come out slowly. "Can I help you, Marcus?"
That annoyed him. He gritted his teeth. "You've been avoiding me."
"This is a small house. Not even I can avoid you. If I was trying to, I'm failing miserably."
That ground on his nerves some more, which was not at all her intention.
"Not just now, for god's sake. For the past six years. Now that we're finally occupying the same space again, could you at least look me in the eyes?"
She had not noticed that she was subconsciously avoiding them. She thought she had stopped. She forced herself to stare straight ahead, with the directness she was so infamous for. "There. Are you happy now? And I avoided you for both our sake. Our last meeting was not pleasant, as you'd know."
"I caught you destroying the very documents we were told to retrieve, you mean."
"You caught me destroying the very documents we were told to keep out of the hands of the Meliqueans. The retrieval part was preferred but not necessary. I am Saian first and Arecian spy second, Dalton. You know that. I do not understand why you still act so surprised."
"I was your best friend. And your lover for half of it. I catch you purposely sabotaging our own mission. You expected me to understand? I said harsh things that night, but I don't regret it—" liar, she thought. She could see it all in his eyes. He could never quite well lie to her the way she lied to him, but she did not feel sorry for all the lies "—while you hightailed off the mission the very next morning, leaving me to explain to Cadieux in very vague terms that we have a disagreement that caused you to bail on the entire bloody assignment. Do you have any idea how difficult that was?"
"Cadieux knows. Laurence suspected. You were the only one who did not realise."
"Of course I didn't. I trusted you, Cass."
"Your mistake. And you were not angry because I sabotaged the mission. You succeeded the moment the documents were out of Mr Ballister's very sticky fingers. You were angry I managed to deceive you and you did not notice until it was too late. I understand. I apologise, but much like you, I do not regret it. Those papers were very bad news to my country. And I wasn't the only one who couldn't look at the other in the eye for the next six years. Did you know that Cadieux purposefully separated us? But we still managed to cross paths once or twice, yes? Once in Joskum, I think, during the queen's birthday bash. A year after we parted ways. You pretended not to see me, so I went and danced with... I cannot remember. But he was handsome."
"Rashid Yar'Adua. His father's the royal treasurer."
"You remember. I am not surprised." She ignored the quickening thump in her heart. "You always had very good memory."
"I remember thinking how much I wanted to smash his handsome little skull in."
She calmed herself and made a disapproving sound. "That would have caused an international scandal. You are cleverer than that."
"Not around you, apparently."
"Either way, you made it clear you did not want to see you. And the two of us speaking does make everything so much more complicated, does it not? I do not hate you, Marcus, and I know whatever anger you had at me has long subsided. So we continue on as we are now."
"Strangers."
"Acquaintances on parallel paths that would not meet. I will become the perfect Saian lady soon, you know. You being around makes things so much more difficult. I'd advise you to try to stay away from my family, in case they decide to continue half-baked negotiations." She turned around and started to leave. His hand shot out, grabbing her good arm. She had not realised how close he was. Blinking, she was pushed upwards, until Marcus dragged her into one of the offices and locked the door behind them.
"Six bloody years, Cassalyn. Six. Not a single attempt at communications. Not a single try to repair burnt bridges. I made a mistake, and so did you. I missed you."
Her throat had dried. She had used up all her words and no longer had any to give.
"I talked to Ciri, you know. Asked her what I should do. She told me you'd eventually come back, that our paths would cross and the right time would arrive and we'd go back to before."
"They kept us apart. That was hardly my fault."
"And now here we are. Under the same roof. You're going to be living with my damned parents in a few days, and you can't even look at me. Where the hell did we go wrong?"
She was glad to see her humour had not completely left her. "When you saw me burning those papers in the inn, I'd say. That moment certainly changed everything."
Marcus let out a strangled groan. It might have been frustration, it might have been rage. "It seems as if I lose all common sense and logic around you, don't I?" She did not tell him that he did the same to her. He was conceited enough without it. He knew anyways. "Once, I thought that when we were of age, I'd marry you and go on missions with you all around the world. And now look where we are."
"Doing that, but not married and instead very alone."
He set his eyes on her, and there was rage and remorse and sadness. She could not bear it. She turned away, like the snivelling coward she was.
"I loved you."
"I know."
"Hell, I think I still do," he growled, raking a hand through his ghost pale hair. She swallowed, letting her eyelids flutter shut.
"I'm not the same girl I was at sixteen. And neither are you the same as when you were eighteen. We've grown up, gotten over it. It's a new chapter of our lives now."
"But we never shut the last one. It's still open."
"Then we shut it today," she said, though her voice was trembling.
When he spoke again, he sounded so broken her heart ached. "Why are you so unwilling to fix this? Saian and Arecian interests are merging and allying. There won't be outright conflict for many years. Politics don't sit between us. Your family is going to be back in Sai soon. Rank doesn't stop us. So what's between us anymore?"
"It's been six years. Even if that was a mistake, we're now two completely different people. There's no guarantee this would work and I have no intention of putting myself through another heartbreak. I'm almost a spinster now, you know? I don't want to try again with you, have it fail and turn into ash and then turn around to marry another man, Marcus. Please understand."
"Let me at least try."
"No."
Marcus smiled, but it wasn't friendly and showed teeth. It was mocking, not at her, but at himself. "You know I'm not going to give up."
"Yes."
"I'm a stubborn bastard, Cass. A dumb one, too. An idiot, really. If I had a brain I'd have forgotten about you long ago and moved on. But I can't and I won't."
"I really wish you would," she told him quietly, staring out of the window, where the sky was gray and carriages travelled through the stone streets.
Marcus reached out and took her uninjured hand again, softly. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them against her wrists. Cass forced herself to stay still, to not tremble and shiver like she wanted to. It had been six years, but she remembered. Her body remembered.
Slowly, he left her hand drop, and looked into her eyes. "This is courtship, Cassalyn Diao. This is me wooing you. I'm not letting you get away from me again."
"Marcus—"
He didn't let her finish. Just gave her a polite bow and turned to go, leaving her standing there like an idiot, staring at the space he had just occupied, trying not to let the tears fall.