Soul Bound, page 34
My stomach churns in answer. Two of the names on his list have lurked under my very own roof. And now a third is likely betraying us. What does that say about me? Have I really been so ignorant of what’s going on around me? I tried to give my aunts the benefit of the doubt. I should’ve been more suspicious from the beginning. We’re at war; we’re in crisis. Some of our principles have got to change. For the sake of our survival.
“Either they’re spying on closed sessions or have found a way to spy on an Electi or their documents,” Idris finishes his thought.
“Who do you think it is?” I ask. Idris lets out a small sigh and shrugs angrily.
“The Electi probably doesn’t even know they’re doing it,” Idris answers.
I rub my brow and groan.
“I don’t think it’s likely to be Savino. So we should have him with us when this all goes down. And City Guards to seize and search rooms and belongings,” I answer quietly. “Having three Electi to witness this plan and see it through should make for a relatively short trial if we need one.”
“I’ll speak to him tomorrow about everything. He’s already up to date on the important facts, about there being information passed back to the Holy States.”
“Good,” I murmur, eyes swinging to a dark corner as we pass it. What monsters lurk in the shadows? Which of Nouis’s cronies are reporting my every move to him?
Idris reaches out. The backs of his fingers skim softly from my elbow down to my wrist, trailing a blaze of molten iron that causes me to suck in a breath. I bite my lip as his boiling fingers slowly lace with mine. Our footsteps on the dark cobbles are the only sound, the dancing torch light peppering the navy streets to spotlight our walk home.
The world is quiet. It’s just me and him.
“Calm your breathing,” Idris murmurs quietly. “All of this can wait until tomorrow. We will have answers soon.”
“You’re right,” I answer, my voice catching in my throat as I look down at our entwined fingers. I soak into that fire, focusing on the pure, searing sensation to chase all else away. Idris is here. We’re together and we have a plan. Stressing and worrying does nothing to help.
Idris lifts our joined hands up to his face. I follow their path, hounding red stars throbbing at the corners of my vision as he brushes a sweet, incendiary kiss across my knuckles. My bones start to melt as my heart picks up a new disjointed beat.
“Do you need a distraction?” Idris asks, a twinkle in his eyes.
“I thought we agreed.” I step closer, words leaving my lips like dragon fire. “We are more than a distraction.”
Idris groans, dropping his head to hover above mine.
“I crave hearing you say that.” Idris’s words brush across my lips. “Say it again. For me.”
I lean up on my toes, so my lips barely brush against his as I whisper, the words turning into a teasing, fiery tempest between us.
“You are mine,” I breathe. “And I am yours.”
His lips consume mine, the inferno of his mouth obliterating all thought or reason. His tender kiss leaves me breathless, our linked hands now melded into one.
“My Fated. My choice,” Idris whispers before stepping back. We walk home hand in hand in the dark night.
Chapter 34
“Ready?” Tahira asks me. I nod.
Fiora sits outside. From our seats inside, positioned behind a curtain to keep us from view, we can see her but she has no idea we’re here. She has a pot of herbal tea on one side and a book balanced across her knee to which she’s paying no attention. She’s clearly lost in thought, the cup in her hands quickly losing its warmth.
I nod to our staff member, Leo, who knows his role well. He holds up the letter and schools his features before walking outside. I know we can trust Leo; besides, we just told him about his job. There’s no way he can prewarn my aunts.
I watch Leo cross the patio, the sun bouncing off his clean cream uniform until he gets to my aunt. I can read his lips as he bows and hands her the letter before walking away.
Good, nothing but what we rehearsed.
Frowning, Fiora deftly opens the letter and scans it, that brow furrowing further into confusion. The blank bewilderment on her face tells me everything I need to know as she stands up and looks back to where Leo disappeared in search of answers. She starts to go after him, letter still in her hand, a myriad of questions painted across her lips.
As she steps inside, she spots Tahira and me sitting by the window, a staged game of tiles spread between us.
“Renza, dear, did you see which way that attendant went?” Fiora asks, walking towards me. I move a tile, suddenly aware I never bothered to explain the rules to Tahira.
“Why?” I ask. She walks over and hands me the letter.
“He just gave me the strangest letter…” She trails off and narrows her eyes as Tahira and I exchange a look. She looks to the window and clearly spies our excellent view of her previous position.
“What kind of game are you playing?” she asks quietly, holding back the wobbling accusations from her words.
“Sorry, Aunt Fiora, but now we have our answer,” I say, folding up the letter and throwing it on top of the tiles.
“What do you mean? What answer?” Fiora demands, crossing her arms and raising an expectant eyebrow.
“Rialta hasn’t been working with the Holy States,” is all I say in response as I stand up. Tahira joins me. Time for part two of the test.
“So you thought I was?” Fiora demands. She moves to step in front of me, to prevent me from leaving as she studies my expression, but it softens a touch. “No. But someone in this household is…”
“Fiora, on this occasion, if you truly are innocent, I recommend you stay out of it.” My words hold a quiet, lethal kind of authority. Fiora takes a beat before nodding and letting me pass.
Tahira and I walk away. As we pass a burning hearth, I throw the first letter into the flames. One down, one to go. Let’s see how this shakes out.
That evening, Agosta returns carrying a veritable fortune of a shopping spree. Fabrics, jewels and decadence pour from her fingers. She babbles her tales of the market in town before sweeping upstairs to her bedroom.
We’re sitting in the living room, Fiora on her own by the back windows with a notebook on the table and inked quill between her fingers. Giulia and I are playing a game of tiles on the coffee table as Tahira being here at this hour would be suspicious.
“Look at this!” Agosta beams, her turquoise beaded earrings swinging against her neck as she sweeps a beautiful bolt of painted silk over the table next to me.
“Oh, very pretty. This’ll make a stunning dress,” I muse, spying Leo awaiting my sign. I give him a subtle nod.
“Oh, won’t it just.” Agosta chuckles to herself. “I’ve been meaning to get a few in the new Halician style. Much more flowing—”
“Sorry to interrupt, signora,” says Leo quietly, bowing properly at Agosta’s side. “Urgent note, just arrived for you.”
Fiora freezes for a second, her eyes still on the page of her journal as Agosta takes the letter. Agosta opens it, casts her eyes over it, and her expression falls.
“Everything alright?” asks Giulia.
“Oh, yes,” Agosta answers brightly. “Seems I made a miscount with a payment. How dreadfully embarrassing. I really should go and fix it. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Traitor.
I quash the surging roar of outrage swelling inside me and nod calmly, offering her a nonchalant smile.
“See you later,” Giulia calls as Agosta turns on her heels and hurries out the door. I turn my gaze over to Fiora. I wait, forcing her to meet my gaze. She lifts her eyes to mine and defeat radiates from them.
“Now you know,” she says softly.
“Now I know,” I answer firmly, without room for hesitation or mercy. She nods as though accepting what has to come next. I head for the door.
“Don’t wait up,” I tell Giulia and she nods.
Agosta’s carriage pulls away, and a second later I step outside. Idris and Savino round the corner on horses, along with six members of the City Guard. Idris dismounts and my heart races as his sweltering hand sweeps gently down my back before he gives me a boost up. Now settled in the saddle, he climbs up behind me and presses my back against his scorching, chiselled chest. I focus on my breathing as Alfieri’s black horse whips past us, hooves somehow whisper-quiet against the cobbled road. He’ll be the one to follow Agosta more closely – our larger retinue is too easily spotted.
Idris’s strong, smouldering arms hold me close. My spine quivers and my stomach goes molten. His fevered breath falls on the back of my head, erupting into a river of fire that pours down my neck. I resist the urge to turn around and gaze at the torrid, dangerous bonfire holding me safe in his arms, fighting tooth and nail with the part of me that longs to melt into the expert crafting of his chest. I have to focus. This is important.
The horses move quickly. Alfieri whips back and forth like a dark beacon to show the way. We wind down the dark streets, my pulse thready and throbbing under my tongue.
Alfieri comes to a stop at the corner of a road and my stomach sinks as he points to a building. Idris swings down, his searing hands coming to my waist as he makes sure I land steadily on my feet. Savino joins us, his face grave as he looks at the building.
“Whose place is this?” I ask. It’s clear that both men recognise it.
“You’re about to find out,” Idris mutters. Idris pushes the door open and Alfieri grabs the attending servant, silencing them with a serrated blade pressed against their soft, fleshy throat.
“Where?” demands Alfieri, the threat in his voice so different to the fun, easy-going man I know and love. The servant points towards a room and we creep forwards. Our steps are silent as we come to a door that’s open ajar.
“—what you’re talking about!” comes a familiar voice and my stomach drops.
“This note!” Agosta shouts. “It’s from you.”
“No. It’s not. You idiot—!”
Agosta’s conspirator races to the door, throwing it open. He stops short when he sees us waiting. Agosta’s face is a mask of shame and horror, that of her partner in crime a mixture of outrage, irritation and disgust.
Ulrico.
“You bastard,” I hiss. Ulrico? The bumbling fool? He was conspiring with the Holy States all this time?
“You’re under arrest for treason,” Savino announces as the City Guards sweep into the study.
“No, no!” shouts Agosta as two guards force her arms behind her back. “No, Renza, you can’t, you can’t—!”
I ignore her, glaring at my colleague as my aunt is dragged out of the room. Ulrico looks down his nose at Idris and me.
“Why?” Idris asks. Ulrico doesn’t bother to fight the City Guards as they clamp his hands in chains behind his back.
“No one ever believed I would be capable of this job. No one ever believed I was as smart as Yelena, as good a politician. But they did, he did.” He smirks.
The way he says those last two words are meant as a jab at me. I want to vomit, seeing the true architect of this betrayal.
“I did a brilliant job, even if I do say so myself. Were your aunt not so stupid, you wouldn’t have worked it out until it was far too late. I suppose good sense doesn’t run in your family.”
“Nor loyalty in yours,” I answer.
“You knew she’d meet Nouis at the peace talks. You knew it was a trap.” Idris makes the statement quietly, with so much violence lurking in the words, but Ulrico doesn’t seem to register the threat as he laughs in his face.
“Why do you think I suggested she go?” Ulrico laughs. “My job gets easier when she’s off the board, and Nouis was never going to let whichever delegate that went return. At least he wants her alive.”
The closed fist flies like a cobra as Idris swings his body around with the force of an avalanche. The slamming sound has me gasping and jumping back as Ulrico sags forwards, blood dripping from his mouth and broken nose.
“Get that stain to a cell. Now!” shouts Savino as Idris heaves, anger emanating from him like vicious steam.
“Idris—” I take a step towards him.
“No!” Idris barks, his entire body trembling as he throws up his hands to stop me. He turns around, gripping hold of the wall, knuckles white as he fights the roaring breaths in his throat. His pupils are pinpricks as his face contorts with a violence that sends a surge of blood to my head.
“Idris—”
“OUT!” roars Idris, slamming his balled fist into the wall. My vision goes red as I force myself to take a step backwards.
“Perhaps you should…” Savino begins and I nod, ripping my eyes away from Idris. I don’t say a word as I trail outside. I hurry, sucking in a breath from the cool night air as I break free from the traitor’s home. Agosta is outside of course, and she starts yelling at me again – begging, really, to talk to me. I can’t bring myself to look at her.
“You alright?” Alfieri asks, surprise evident in his voice as he seems to materialise in the dark. I offer him a tight smile as I take another shallow breath, letting the cool night air soak into my lungs.
“Yeah, things with Idris … the bond got strained,” I manage, clearing my throat. Alfieri nods slowly as a moment of silence passes. My eyes turn to Ulrico who’s sneering at everything and everyone in his path. His mouth is folded in disgust as he’s pulled away by the City Guard.
“How about I take you home. It’s been a long day.”
I nod as Alfieri guides me to his horse. He pats the mare’s neck before offering me a hand up. I turn over Agosta’s betrayal again and again in my head. Why did she do this? What did I do to offend her? What was she promised out of this?
She’ll die for this. It was my plan that got her caught, my plan that proved without a doubt that she’s been working against us all this time. Whatever her reason, whatever her bribe, her actions are her own. And she will pay the price. She has to.
The horse’s hooves are soft on the cobbled street as Alfieri walks us home. He’s back to his normal, easy-going, thoughtful self.
“Your business is a family business, isn’t it?” I ask quietly.
“Yes…” he answers warily.
“How do you … have you ever had to…?” I trail off, not sure how to form the question. Alfieri sighs. I can’t imagine an international smuggling operation comes without its brutal requirements. And when the organisation is all family based…
“Those that betray family are not family,” Alfieri says quietly, the words spoken with an air of familiarity, like the phrase has been told to him a hundred times before. “Family isn’t blood, it’s a bond. It’s a silent promise. Those who choose to take advantage of that promise or cast it aside, they are not worthy of the title. Blood ties mean nothing until our actions make them worth something.”
I’ve always been proud to wear the name Di Maineri. We are successful, rich, smart, driven. Di Maineris have influence and intelligence in every country across the continent; the name is known in almost every home.
But today, I am so ashamed of my blood. One aunt is imprisoned, the other is to die. Betraying their own and not feeling bad about it. Like I should expect this kind of behaviour. Is that all the Di Maineri name really means? Schemes and plots. Do our family ties really run so thin?
Giulia and I must be the exception to the rule.
Alfieri stops outside my house and I go inside to see City Guards marching up and down the corridors, searching for any further evidence. Tahira leans against the wall with folded arms. Fiora is nowhere to be seen, but I imagine Giulia is keeping an eye on her.
“So?”
“Not who I expected. But perhaps I should’ve,” I answer. “Anything here?”
“These,” Tahira says holding up some letters. “And a significant amount of Gold Aureus. I think you should read them. Some of the details might be … interesting for you.”
I nod and take the letters out of her hands.
“I’m … I’m done for today,” I say quietly. Tahira nods, a sympathetic look in her eyes.
“We’ve got this,” she says, jutting her jaw towards the City Guards. “Get your head somewhere better.”
I head up the stairs for my room. I close the door behind me, throwing the letters on the side as I crawl over the blankets of my familiar bed and collapse. I wrap my arms around a pillow and close my eyes, hoping the memory of Agosta’s face will stop haunting me.
Chapter 35
I come down late for breakfast the following morning. I walk into the dining room and pour a large coffee. Giulia is halfway through a bowl of fruit as Fiora sips on her herbal tea. The silence is swollen and bruised, neither party wanting to needle the wound with careless words.
No, I won’t be uncomfortable in my own damn home.
I deliberately sit across from Giulia and fix her with a bright smile. I reach over, catching her left hand and holding it up to the light. Her engagement ring sparkles like a captured rainbow on her hand.
“I love it more and more every time I look at it,” I say. Giulia grins, admiring it again as though it were the first time.
“She knows me so well.” Giulia sighs in blissful contentment. “Although I was worried about the cost – it can’t have been cheap.”
“No,” I agree as I serve myself some food. “But Michelle is responsible. She’ll have saved to get you exactly what she wanted. I wouldn’t worry about it. All you need to worry about is making your wedding exactly the way you want it. Any plans yet?”
“We’re thinking we’d like to hold it as soon as we can, after all the tension resolves itself – so we can all actually relax and celebrate,” Giulia says, her eyes going a touch glassy as a wistful, joyous smile fills her lips.
