Blood Succession (Knight Protector Book 4), page 7
No money, no army. That’s how General Junius had summed up the problem. He’s a prat and a fool like his father, but no worse than most senator’s sons, I should think.
Aria wasn’t sure about that. He seemed a very strange young man, in turns charming and saturnine. But he didn’t seem a fool to her.
That he had thoughts about the proposed marriage, she didn’t doubt. What they were, she was less certain. Sometimes, he would smile with all the warmth of a man eager to impress a woman. Sometimes, he would watch her with a kind of faraway sadness.
He was handsome, she supposed, and had no particular lack of wit or manners. But the truth was, nothing about Augustus Crassus seemed likely to inspire tender feelings in her heart – not now, and not later. No doubt, someone else would think otherwise. He had all the qualifications to make a girl fall for him.
Just…not her. She was quite certain of that by time dinner ended. He didn’t seem to have much depth of interest in anything. He had witty remarks to make about any topic, but that was the extent of it. He didn’t care to engage beyond eliciting a laugh; then it was time to move on, to the next thing, and the next laugh.
His sister Terese struck her as the deep thinker of the pair. She lacked none of his wit or charm, but she had thoughts of her own to offer too. Maybe it wasn’t that Augustus lacked thoughts, but just that he didn’t choose to share them. She didn’t know, but she found the sister’s manner more pleasing, and the brother’s more off putting.
Still, the crown was broke, and she had only a few bad options before her. Of them, Augustus seemed the least bad. And she would have to marry sooner or later. So Crassus’s son might not evoke an amorous response from her, but he didn’t offend her sensibilities, either. Which is how she concluded that he would be the least bad option.
Of course, all of that – whether Augustus was an option at all – depended on the man himself, and his feelings on the matter. She knew his father’s already, and she guessed his mother’s: Priscilla had watched them all night, smiling with every exchange.
Augustus certainly didn’t share his mother’s unbridled enthusiasm. But maybe he’d be alright with it, like she felt she could be alright with it. It certainly wouldn’t be the kind of relationship she’d imagined for herself. It’d be a far cry from the life her grandfather would have envisioned for his descendants.
But, then, these were unprecedented times. She’d just spent a week and a half being reminded of just how unprecedented, and just how dire the crown’s place was in all of it.
So Aria waited until after dinner, when they were leaving the dining room for the sitting room, where they’d have further libations and conversation. She slowed her walk until her steps coincided with Augustus’s. He glanced up but mastered his surprise quickly and extended her his arm. “My lady?”
She didn’t take it. “Could I…could I talk to you, Augustus?”
He glanced forward, toward his parents, who in turn glanced away and continued to the other room; and then back at his sister, who saw the pair of them, and murmured, “I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
She hurried away as quickly as her parents, but more embarrassed.
Aria smiled. “I’m sorry. I will be starting rumors in your house.”
He grinned at her, a little nervously, she thought. “I’ll live. What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”
“Aria,” she reminded him. “I need to know your opinion.”
“My opinion?”
“You know, on the marriage business.” She’d had a very ordered and analytic line of inquiry planned. Somehow, it wasn’t quite as easy outside of her head.
“Oh.”
“I don’t need you to tell me right away. I don’t want to put you on the spot, or anything like that. I just need to know – well, is it something you want?”
He blinked at the question. “I’m sure any man would be honored –”
She waved that away with a brush of her hand. “Save the platitudes, Augustus. We both know they’re bollocks. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. A month ago, we both would have laughed at the idea of this marriage.” A month ago. Gods, it seemed like an eternity. She forced her mind back on track. “But that was a month ago.”
“Do you want it?” he asked.
She considered for a long moment, then said again, “I don’t know you.”
“Nor I you. But people have gotten married to strangers before, and it’s turned out alright. Or so I’m told.”
She nodded. “Me too. But – is that what you want?”
“Is it what you want?”
She frowned at him. “I asked first.”
“Yes, you did. And if you command me as my queen to answer, I will.”
“Of course I’m not commanding you, Augustus. I just – want to know, is all.”
“Why? Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. I don’t want to marry someone if they don’t want to be married.”
He considered for a long moment. “I don’t know you.”
“So we’ve established…”
He smiled wryly. “Yes. But I mean…may I be blunt?”
“Please.”
“I may never love you. I may not even like you very well. I don’t know you well enough to know one way or the other.”
She nodded. “Are you saying you don’t want to do it, then? I won’t be angry, Augustus. I promise. Your father and I have talked it over. Neither of us want you to commit to something you don’t want.”
He barked out a laugh at that, so sudden and sharp that it startled her. “He said that, did he?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Ah. Well, that’s my dad: always looking out for his children.” She frowned at the undercurrent of sarcasm in his words, but he moved on before she could address it. “I don’t mean that I don’t want to be married, Aria. I mean just what I say: I may never love you. We may not even like each other, when we’re stuck together. You, from what I hear, are something of a scholar and a thinker. I…” He shrugged. “Am not. You may find me very boring.”
“You may find me very boring,” she said, smiling gently.
He smiled too. “I didn’t want to be the one to say it.”
“Then I will tell the senate that I reject their recommendation.”
He shook his head. “No. No, don’t do that, Aria. You may bore me, and I may bore you. But maybe you won’t. Maybe I won’t. Maybe we’ll find enough to do so that we don’t bore each other. Maybe – maybe we’ll do alright together.”
She laughed, since that was the same word she’d used in her own thoughts: alright. “It’s not a very romantic picture.”
For half a second, the faraway look settled in his eyes. “No. But romance is for fools anyway.” Then he smiled. “But my dad – for all he tells you – is awfully keen on his grandkids sitting on that throne someday. And I won’t lie: I’m not opposed to it myself.
“And you need the money to stop Ilaria. So no, it’s not very romantic. But the way I see it, we could both do worse, couldn’t we?”
They announced their engagement, such as it was, that night. Priscilla looked ready to cry tears of joy, and Crassus wasn’t far behind. Terese seemed less enthused by the news, but she mustered a smile and congratulated them both.
Aria couldn’t blame her. She didn’t have a brother, but if she did, she would want better than a loveless marriage for him. Still, they were both entering the arrangement eyes wide open, with no illusions. Which, she decided, was a more honest start to the union than many marriages anyway.
“With your leave, Aria, I will inform the senate tomorrow,” Crassus said as soon as the first congratulations were done.
She glanced at Augustus, and he glanced at her. Then, he nodded and smiled. “Of course. Whenever you like,” she said. “And tomorrow, let me return the favor: dine with me. Better yet, come early, and spend the afternoon with me. I’m sure the senate can let me go a few hours early.”
This, she said with a glance toward Crassus, who beamed. “I’m quite certain that can be arranged.”
“Good. Then you all must come. If we are to be kin, I suppose we should get to know each other.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Aria,” Augustus said. “You can’t put the genie back in the bottle once you’ve unleashed him.”
Priscilla tutted something about her son’s sense of humor and assured her they would be over whenever she liked.
“Better yet,” Crassus put in, “why not let the young people spend some time together first? Priscilla and I can arrive at dinner. You and Augustus should get to know each other. And surely, you see enough of my face in any given day.”
Again, they exchanged worried glances. It was one thing to agree to be wed. But to spend time with each other? “Oh. Well, um…I suppose that would be fine.”
Crassus nodded. “Good. Excellent. We’ll send Terese too – for propriety’s sake. But it will be good for you to get to know each other.”
Chapter Eight – Terese
They did send Terese with Augustus, but not for propriety’s sake. They weren’t worried about rumors spreading that the queen and her fiancé enjoyed each other’s company a little too much for unmarried people. They were worried that Augustus would sabotage himself. So she would be there to bail her brother out of trouble, if necessary. She figured that out the next morning, as Priscilla took her aside and gave her a full list of tasks for the next day.
She was to observe Aria. A woman could see things that a man could not always pick up. “Anything you see could help your brother.”
She should, however, stay out of their conversation. “Your brother’s job is to secure her now, so she doesn’t change her mind.” But she should also take the opportunity to establish a familial bond. “Be polite, of course. Ingratiate yourself to her as much as possible. You are going to be sisters; remind her of the fact, if it helps. And for goodness’s sake, be enthusiastic about it.”
But most importantly, she should intervene if Augustus got himself in trouble. “You know what his sense of humor is like. It’s a very acquired taste – and it can come across as hostile, if one doesn’t know better. So make sure he doesn’t say anything too ridiculous.”
“And how am I going to do that, Mother? I can’t control what he says.”
“No, of course not. But if he makes a joke that lands wrong, you can laugh it off. You can say something about his sense of humor, so that she knows it’s not a serious comment.”
She remembered Priscilla’s comments the night before, and how awkward they’d been. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Yes, you are. Listen, Terese: it’s time you and I came to an understanding.”
That sounded ominous, so Terese did what she and her brother did best when faced with a parental threat. She laughed lightly, like it didn’t worry her. “Should I be worried, Mother?”
Priscilla raised an eyebrow at her. “Worried? Of course not. I’m your mother. I want what’s best for you, even if we don’t always agree on the method.
“So let’s be frank with each other, shall we?”
Terese puffed out her cheeks and loosed a long breath of air. “What did you have in mind?”
“You are of age to be married.” Terese groaned, but the other woman didn’t stop. “You have rebuffed your father’s efforts so far, but you know Crassus: he will not be put off forever.
“He’s still unhappy about the business with Agalyn. If the king – the gods rest his soul – had been a better sort of man, I think he might not forgive you.”
“Forgive me?” she repeated, bitterness seeping into her tone. “For not pursuing someone who had no interest in me? For trying to live my own life?”
Priscilla raised a hand. “I’m not trying to argue with you, my dear. I am laying out the facts as they are. Your opinion and mine of the situation does not change it, yes?”
Terese didn’t answer. Her mother was right, of course. Reality was what it was, regardless of how one felt about it. But she refused to yield the point – not without knowing where this was all leading.
“Sooner or later, your father will want you to take a husband.”
“I don’t want a husband, dammit.”
Priscilla smiled in a knowing way. “And I would be a very poor mother if I didn’t know the reasons why.”
Terese froze. Then she made herself laugh. “What are you talking about? I’ve told you a hundred times: if I marry, I want it to be a marriage of love. None of these miserable political alliances. Anyway, I value my own autonomy.”
“Yes.” Priscilla was still smiling. “You have told me that. And for a while, I even believed you. I mean, part of it is probably true. But when you say you don’t want a husband, Terese, you are not saying you’ll never be married. You are saying you don’t want a husband.”
She felt her cheeks color. In her mind, that had seemed a very clever way to sidestep the issue. Had her mother really picked up her underlying meaning?
“Your father will be disappointed, of course. It will be a scandal, in some circles.”
Terese snorted bitterly. “Ah yes. And isn’t that the most important thing: the family name?”
But Priscilla shook her head. “No. Not the most important. But it is very important, Tee. You must know that.”
She didn’t speak. What could she say? She knew – she had always known – what her family’s answer would be if they knew the truth. It wasn’t illegal for a woman to love another woman, or to be attracted to women rather than men. But it was unusual. And society didn’t like unusual.
And what society didn’t like, Crassus didn’t like.
“So think, who in all of the South, can weather a little rough waters without any permanent damage?
“Can House Crassus? Perhaps. Wealth covers many sins. But you know your father: he is in many things a cautious man. He may worry what a homosexual daughter might do to his son’s marital prospects.
“But if that daughter is the sister-in-law of the South’s monarch? She can do anything she likes, and no one would dare to make a peep. Would they? You could ride naked through the streets, and the whole nation would swear your garments were the finest tailored they’d ever seen. You can love a woman, marry a woman even. Hell, have an entire harem of them.”
“I don’t want a harem,” she snorted, red-faced and too frazzled to think of how to respond to her mother’s suspicions. So she focused on something tangential and irrelevant.
“Then don’t. Take one, or two, or whatever you want. If you’re the queen’s sister: you can do whatever you like. And no one – not even your father – will stop you.”
She studied Priscilla for a long moment. “Are you…are you blackmailing me, Mother?”
The other woman laughed. “Of course not, Tee. Call it a bribe, if you like. But blackmail? Of course not. I’m not going to tell your father, if that’s what you’re worried about.
“But not even I can change his mind about a thing like your marriage. Not without some much larger prize for him to fixate on.
“So if you must apply ugly labels, call it a bribe: your autonomy, for helping your brother stay out of trouble.”
She hadn’t agreed. But she hadn’t disagreed, either. She tried to put it out of her mind during the day, but it was all she could think about on the journey to the palace.
As for Augustus, he seemed similarly engaged with his own counsel. He stared out the window as the city sped by, silent and morose.
Terese didn’t notice at first. She was too occupied with her own musings. But the silence became oppressive after a while. She studied her brother’s face. He seemed to be watching the streets with unseeing eyes, like his thoughts were a million miles away.
He’d murdered a man. Terese couldn’t forget that, even if that same man had begged him to pull the trigger.
But then, this was her brother. This was Augustus. And seeing pain in his face filled her heart with pain too. “What’s wrong, Augie?” she said.
He started at the sound of her voice, and then flashed a smile. “Wrong? Nothing at all.”
“You’re very quiet.”
“Am I?”
“You know you are.”
“Well, I suppose I’m a little overwhelmed. With joy and all that. I’m the luckiest man alive, on my way to meet my beautiful bride.”
Even now, even attempting to reassure her, he couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of his tone. “You don’t have to do it.”
“Visit my bride? That wouldn’t be very gallant, would it, sister?”
“Marry her. If your heart isn’t in it, you don’t have to go through with it.”
“Why wouldn’t my heart be in it? I’ve met her a full two times, Tee, and had a conversation with her that lasted at least fifteen minutes. How could I be anything other than passionately in love?”
“I’m serious. And you should be too. This isn’t a joke. It’s your life.”
He smiled, a sardonic grin full of bitterness. “But you contradict yourself, my dear sister.”
“Augie,” she said, “talk to me. You’re not happy. Why are you doing it, if you’re not happy?”
He turned back to the window. The side streets rolled by, one after another. “We don’t always get to be happy, Tee. That’s life.”
The carriage bounced a little over the cobblestone road, but Terese stood up and moved to the seat beside her brother. She took his hand in hers. “It doesn’t have to be. If it makes any difference at all, if you want out, I’ll back you up. Father will be furious, but he’s only got two kids. He can’t disinherit us both, can he?”
Augustus turned to her with laughter on his lips, but tears in his eyes. He wasn’t sobbing or crying. It was just the beginning of a few, solitary tears, and he blinked them back as quickly as he could. “Are we staging a rebellion now? You and I against mother and father, our generation versus the old timers?”
“I’m serious, Augie. This is your life. You only get one of them. You don’t have to be miserable in it.”
