One Thousand Kisses (2 page)

“Oh?” Embor and his staff kept close tabs on the AOC, under investigation by the Commission for Truth five years and counting. “What for?”

“It was none of my business.” Anisette glanced at him with the ghost of a smile. “If you want to know, I’m sure you can find out. You
are
the Primary.”

Was she teasing him or stating a fact? “So I am.”

She fended off Violet’s stick before it poked her in the eye. “Talista asked me to help since they’re Realmside. Violet’s magic might be emerging.”

“Already?” Fairies were usually five or six before they revealed any magical inclinations.

“You can see why I’m needed.”

He wondered if it had disrupted her plans. Her dress was more formal than one might expect for a day with children. But instead of commenting on her appearance again, he asked, “Do you know what powers she’ll have?”

The five accepted magical elements were fire, earth, air, water and ether. Spirit, the sixth, was technically forbidden. Jake possessed a massive aptitude for the sixth arts, so the Serendipity children were persons of interest to many at Court.

Anisette shook her head. “It’s too soon to tell. The way Violet loves flying, Tali thinks air.” She patted the girl’s back.

The sun beat down like a thick blanket. An annoying wave of fatigue washed over him. Perhaps he should eat; it had to be close to luncheon. But he hated to end this conversation.

“Where are the other children?” he asked.

“They’re with Cassandra and…” She wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. “Someone else.”

Jake and Talista’s special circumstances meant they had assistants qualified for both childcare and ring maintenance. He’d had to pull strings to get Cassandra Cragen and her siblings hired, but it had been worth it.

“It’s warm today,” he commented. “You should drink extra water to counter the perspiration.” Should he suggest they all take the noon meal together?

“The perspir… Excuse me.” She snatched her hand away from her forehead and adjusted Violet’s position. The child’s weight dipped the neckline of her gown far enough that Embor could see the tops of Anisette’s breasts. The white lace of her chemise peeped out like a secret.

Embor had seen a number of women’s bodies in his one hundred and fifty years, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from those soft globes. As he watched, Violet shoved her hand down Anisette’s top, dragged out the pendant and exposed more of her aunt’s chest. She pulled the chain until it dug into Anisette’s neck.

“Mine,” Violet demanded.

No. His.

He reached for the pendant. “May I?”

Anisette blushed and adjusted her dress. “You may not.”

He quirked an eyebrow at Anisette but spoke to the child. “You’re hurting your auntie. Give me the necklace, Miss Violet.”

“Be warned,” Anisette said. “She’s not cooperative with strangers, and she bites.”

He wasn’t about to tell her he wasn’t a stranger to Violet. For various reasons, the children had attended several strategic-planning sessions with Talista and Jake.

Those sessions hadn’t been particularly efficient.

Violet, to his surprise, placed the golden locket in his hand.

“I wear it,” she said. “Me.”

“Until your nap,” Anisette agreed. Embor drew the chain over her head. His fingers grazed her jaw, her temple, her mussed hair. Had he ever been this close to her?

No, he hadn’t, for good reason. Her proximity affected him. Made him want things he hadn’t earned. And she could, as a healer, read hormone levels.

Right now, he didn’t care. He rubbed the soft skin of her neck where the necklace had etched a red line. “Does this hurt?”

“No.” She licked her lips nervously. His proximity affected her as well; he hoped it was in the same way. “We should get back.”

He put the necklace on Violet. “Back to where?”

“Er.” This time she averted her gaze. Perhaps his proximity didn’t affect her in the same way. “The reflection pool.”

“That explains the water.”

Violet wriggled and slid down Anisette’s body. Anisette studied her yellow gown. Damp splotches marred the fabric in addition to dirt. “You need a clean dipey, Violet.”

“I big girl. I wear bloomies.”

Anisette put her hands on her hips. “Big girls peepee in the potty and don’t wet their bloomies.”

They eyed the child, who started twirling in a circle. The necklace flew out in an arc.

“That doesn’t look safe,” Embor remarked.

“You can try to take it from her if you like.”

“I would not like.” Especially not if she was a biter. The last time he’d needed to distract the children, he’d conjured Skythia’s chocolates. Since Violet had responded to food once, he said, “Perhaps she might like luncheon?”

“Oh dear. Is it that late?”

“Yes. Are you hungry?”

Violet wrapped an arm around his leg. “I am. Feed me.”

“Violet, don’t grab the Primary.” Anisette moved toward the child, which brought her into his sphere. He could smell her subtle, floral scent. She tilted up her face, her eyes huge and crystalline. “Is she bothering you?”

“Actually, no.” He hadn’t kissed a woman in longer than he cared to remember. “Anisette, I—”

“There you are, my dove.”

A man with dark hair and a goatee strode into the clearing, two Serendipity children and Cassandra Cragen trailing behind him like ducklings.

Anisette stepped away from Embor. Her hands smoothed her skirts, checked her hair. Primping.

A cloud passed over the sun.

Embor’s fingertips heated as he and Warran Torval glared at one another. The energy he’d been lacking this morning flashed through him. Warran was three hundred, with no spouse or offspring. Like Embor, he’d focused on politics, rising to the highest circles of the Elder Court outside of Primary.

Unlike Embor, his goals for the Realm didn’t include keeping it safe and separate from humans. He hadn’t declared himself a New Expansionist, but then, his goals weren’t as friendly as the Nexies. Moreover, the AOC backed Warran and his twin in the upcoming Primary elections, further proof of unsuitability—on all their parts.

“Rough morning, Primary?” Warran said, breaking the stare-off.

Embor clasped his hands behind his back. Tightly. “No.”

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m fine.” Surely it wasn’t obvious; not even Skythia had noticed. Warran was insinuating whatever flaw he could, as usual.

“Of course you are.” Warran switched his attention to Violet. “Brat, you were very bad to run off like that.”

“Not bad.” Violet clung to Embor’s leg.

Warran adjusted his collar. Unlike everyone else in the clearing, he didn’t have a speck of dirt on him. “This is a waste of my time. Anisette, the nursemaid can handle this. We have plans.”

“Our plans could be cancelled,” Anisette murmured.

“Nonsense.” Warran smirked at Embor. “Today is important.”

Embor squeezed his fists as he studied the other man. He’d have heard if Anisette and Warran had consummated their relationship. He had certain sources, certain safeguards, and such things were impossible to keep private at Court.

From the safety of Embor’s legs, Violet stuck out her tongue at Warran. “You’re poopy.”

Warran’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Astute child.

“Violet, that wasn’t nice,” Anisette said.

“I like this man, not that one.” She patted Embor’s knee, and he felt oddly flattered. “He brings chocolate.”

Embor hoped everyone overlooked her comment. There was no easy way to explain why she associated him with humanspace dessert.

Anisette’s lips tilted down. “We can’t always have whatever we like, Violet.”

Warran laughed. “Some of us can.”

Luckily, Embor had long ago mastered an emotionless expression. It helped him in Court sessions to suppress inconvenient yawns. It also helped him to imagine punching Warran in the head without giving his thoughts away.

Violet sidled behind Embor. “Don’t wanna go.”

Warran studied Violet as if she were a bug. “Humans whip children who disobey.”

Cassandra pulled a face behind Warran while Anisette exhaled a frustrated breath. Violet’s fists tightened in Embor’s pant legs.

Embor knew Warran intended to provoke him, not discipline Violet, but the fire inside him bloomed anyway. “We’re not primitives, Torval. You won’t lay a hand on this child.”

The man’s gaze slid back to Embor. “It’s a statement of fact, Primary. Humans do beat their young. Of course, you often label factual statements as combative.”

This was neither the time nor the place for politics. “Princess Anisette, if you need assistance, I offer myself. Torval can go.”

He’d have his personal assistant reschedule his afternoon, and gladly. Surely he could supervise triplets for a few hours. He didn’t need to be functioning at a hundred percent for that.

“Not necessary.” Anisette glanced between him and Warran with a frown. “Tali and Jake won’t be much longer.”

“You can go, Princess,” Cassandra said. “I have transportation and healing globes.”

“See? No need to ruin our entire afternoon.” Warran indicated the path. “Shall we?”

To her credit, Anisette didn’t leap to obey. She offered Embor a rueful smile. “Thank you for your help.”

“Thank you for your company.” Embor, possessed by a strange urge to cause trouble, sketched her a bow. Her eyes widened, and she raised a hand to her mouth before she curtsied. The Primary bowed to none but his family, his clan prime or a fairy he was courting.

Warran didn’t miss the exchange. He stalked across the grass and took Anisette’s arm.

Embor had never liked Warran Torval, but he suddenly realized it went beyond dislike. He hated the other man with a depth of passion he’d formerly confined to four rogue humanspace agents who needed to be hunted down and shot.

The fact they hadn’t been yet was due to the Court’s political game-playing, not Embor’s lack of motivation for the task.

Warran smirked. “Sweetness, my sister is waiting, and I’m sure you’ll wish to change into something clean.”

“Of course,” Anisette agreed. Warran’s twin, Elder Ophelia, was a social matriarch among high-ranked fairies as well as another thorn in Embor’s side. The Torvals had been the Fiertags’ closest competitors in the last election too.

Warran guided Anisette away. She glanced back—at her niece, not at Embor. “Come along, Violet.”

One day Embor would tell Anisette what the Seers had predicted. There was a one hundred percent chance a Serendipity princess would be his bondmate. He’d realized it wasn’t Talista, thank Ka, when she’d paired with Jake, leaving Anisette as his match.

One day he’d tell her. One day there’d be a moment, and he’d seize it.

This was not that moment.

Warran’s arm around her, Anisette continued down the walkway. She didn’t speak to Embor again.

Trotting behind her aunt, Violet wasn’t so aloof.

“Bye-bye, mean man.” She waved, a flip of her grubby hand.

Embor waved back as a sensation a lot like rage curdled his stomach.

Chapter Two

Anisette couldn’t follow the conversation at dinner with the Torvals. Her mind kept straying to her encounter with Elder Embor in the gardens. Before she realized what she was doing, she’d bitten into a curried bean roll.

Ugh. Spicy heat burned her mouth, and she gulped water to cool it. To cool her mortification.

Of all the people to run into when she’d been as scruffy as a dog. Of all the people for her niece to pee on. Of all the people to take it in stride. Of all the people to display spiking hormone levels, almost indicative of… No, it didn’t bear considering.

He’d been at his leisure. That’s why he hadn’t been the man she was used to. He’d touched her hair and cheek. Bowed to her as an equal, though he was Primary and she was a Court trainee.

Had he done it to irritate Warran? The friction between the men hadn’t been her imagination. Their hormones had revealed all. The question was whether Embor had been reacting to Warran’s threat against his political status or something else.

Impossible. There could be nothing else, and she didn’t appreciate being used as a pawn in Elder Court intrigue.

“More wine?” Warran twitched a finger at the servant. A rotund youth Ani didn’t recognize hastened to refill Ani’s glass.

“No, thank you.” With her earth and water magics, strong tastes overpowered her, as did strong emotions. Strong people.

“I insist.” Warran reached around the table and patted her hand. “You deserve it after our unpleasant day.”

Ani allowed the contact even as her stomach clenched. How she wished she’d dealt with this situation before it had become so complicated. But no, she’d postponed it in hopes an easier choice would appear.

It hadn’t. Now she had to drink the wine.

She hated wine.

The server topped her glass apologetically, dribbling down the side. He didn’t seem practiced as a waiter. More than once he’d spoken aloud, and Ophelia had screeched at him. She hoped he was being paid well.

The server stepped back, and she eyed the ruby liquid with distaste. She oughtn’t offend her host and hostess, so she drank. Sourness enveloped her palate.

Ophelia, across the table from Warran, dabbed her lips with a white cloth. “What was so unpleasant? The fact you got stuck herding children?”

“Anisette’s experience was even worse.” Warran smiled, showing many teeth. Ani hated that smile. It always preceded something unkind. “Our princess had to retrieve her niece from the clutches of Elder Embor.”

Ophelia raised finely plucked eyebrows. “The Primary stole a child? How delightfully perverse. We can use that.”

“Violet ran away, and Elder Embor found her,” Ani explained quickly. “He kept her from getting hurt.”

“Of course he did.” Ophelia rolled her eyes. The Torvals weren’t averse to smearing their rivals, but so far they hadn’t been able to make much stick to the incumbent Fiertags. Few had fallen for the whisper campaigns about Skythia’s extravagance and Embor’s explosive nature.

Ani nudged the wine away from her plate. With a Torval on either side of her and the whitewashed wall of the solar behind, she felt trapped. Her formal dinner gown and bodice constricted her torso, heightening the feeling of suffocation.

“When I rescued Anisette, she was in dire straits,” Warran said. “Forced to converse with Fiertag, and we all know how painful that is. The man’s as dense as a gargoyle and twice as antiquated in his policies.”

I didn’t need rescuing
, Anisette said, remembering how she’d felt when Embor had touched her neck, his body exuding a heat that had nothing to do with summer.

Then she realized she hadn’t said it, she’d thought it. That happened all the time. She fantasized about being brash, like Tali, but she never was.

“Perhaps he’s cracking under the strain,” Ophelia suggested. “Must be exhausting doing a job you’re underqualified for. Have you noticed he’s been off lately?”

“How could you not?” Warran chuckled. “Mussed appearance? Ill temper? Shadows under the eyes?”

“He’s sickly?” Ophelia’s pointy features creased in an unkind smile.

He’d been mussed because of Violet. But he hadn’t been ill-tempered, and Ani had no idea why anyone might describe Embor as sickly. She was the healer, and the only thing she’d seen in his hormones was masculine curiosity. A natural response after Violet practically exposed Ani’s breasts to the poor man.

The Torvals only wished Embor Fiertag had weaknesses.

“I didn’t notice he was sick,” Ani said.

Warran shrugged. “Who knows? I was more amused by the way he’d latched onto Anisette. What was he doing, darling, groping you? Pathetic.”

Where Embor’s fingers had touched her skin, she’d tingled. His pale grey eyes had trained on her face with an intensity she didn’t understand. “He was hardly groping me.”

Since both Torvals turned to her with eyebrows arched, she must have actually voiced that. A blush stole across her face.

“Too true,” Warran said. “The Primary would never be undignified.”

“Embor has no interest in sex. He’s unnatural,” Ophelia said. “He hasn’t bond-tested in years. One of my friends overheard Skythia complaining about it.”

Ani didn’t have to pretend interest in the new topic. Embor had a reputation of being more concerned with politics than relationships. But disinterest in sex didn’t mesh with the man who’d stared into her eyes today with so much awareness it had almost thrilled her.

By the spirits, she’d finally been driven mad by Court life.

“Perhaps that explains why he’s moody.” Warran peered into his knife blade, smoothing the goatee he affected despite the fact facial hair wasn’t in fashion. “Sexual frustration feeds through a bond and dilutes power. Not the best move for a Primary.”

Ophelia motioned to the server to refill her wine before toasting Ani. “Indeed it isn’t. I can’t say how happy I am my brother has finally chosen someone.”

Warran lifted his glass too. “Hear, hear.”

To hide her panic, Ani toasted back. She didn’t swallow, and she didn’t correct Ophelia. She really should speak with Warran about their courtship.

The problem was finding the right moment, and the courage, to end it.

Ophelia leaned back in her chair, adjusting her necklace. “Tell me, Ani, what ritual number did your sister use to bond with her mate?”

Ani forced a smile to her lips. “My sister doesn’t follow
The Thousand Kisses
. There was no ritual.”

“Yet she still bonded,” Ophelia said. “Your sister is a lucky girl.”

“She is that.” Most of Court had been told Jake was a twin from a Southern clan who’d survived his sib’s death and spent his life in Greenland. The Torvals weren’t part of Embor and Skythia’s cabinet and ostensibly didn’t know about Jake, but sometimes Ani wondered.

“You’re lucky too, Anisette. If one sib finds a bondmate, the others have a better chance themselves.”

“They do say that,” Warran agreed. The Torvals exchanged a glance and then stared at Ani with matching smiles.

Assessing her potential, no doubt. She hid a shudder. When she’d accepted Warran’s proposition card months ago, flattered the Elder had approached her, she’d never imagined going this long without a resolution. Fairies kept company until they decided whether they wanted to try for a bond. If yes, they chose a ritual and followed it, hoping for a miracle. If no—if they didn’t want to risk being stuck together forever—they parted ways. Tradition dictated they consider one mate at a time. Since the wrong decision could lead to a life of misery, it was wise to remain focused.

Ani had been celibate all these months, dreading the day Warran offered a card from
The Thousand Kisses
. She planned to refuse it but had been too spineless for a preemptive strike.

Yet after the first weeks, he hadn’t offered so much as a kiss. If he were waiting on her to offer the card, he’d be waiting forever. She had zero interest in discovering whether they were bondmates and zero intentions of allowing him into her bed. If her one was Warran, she’d rather not know. Over time, she’d grown to, well, not like him.

But how to tell him? With the clout of the AOC behind them, The Torvals’s displeasure could destroy her future. Her career was at stake.

Such as it was.

Ophelia watched Ani as if she could read minds, but the other fairy’s skills were air and earth, not spirit. “How has your sib’s bond affected you?”

Ani settled on facts anyone might know. “We don’t spend as much time together. Her job and children take precedence.” Not all sibs lived in one another’s pockets. She wondered sometimes if Warran and Ophelia even liked each other.

Ophelia rested her chin on her hand. She reminded Ani of a spider, spinning so many threads she was connected everywhere.

And hungry.

“How did she get a job as a ring agent? Who did she have to…bribe?” Warran and Ophelia both chuckled nastily.

A question asked by many. Tali and Jake were the first high-level bondmates to serve as agents in some time. “They got a special dispensation from the Primaries. I would think you’d be in favor. Allowing agents the travel freedom of researchers is a step in the direction you’ve advocated in the past.”

“Travel freedom isn’t quite what we advocate, dear,” Ophelia said.

“Let’s not debate semantics, ladies. There’s a topic closer to my heart I long to discuss.” Warran waited until they were paying attention to him. “Ani’s future.”

“I feared you might say your beard,” Ophelia drawled.

“My future?” Ani’s stomach bottomed out. Was he about to propose a consummation ritual in front of his sister?

“How do you think Talista’s job affects your chances at Court?” Warran’s question both relieved and irritated her. Only full sibling sets—twins and the occasional triplets—could become Elders. Tali, as a humanspace agent, was automatically disqualified, and thus, so was Ani.

Good gravy, did they just want to see her squirm?

“I was told I’d be confirmed for Younger Court in a couple of years.” She sighed loudly and hoped they wouldn’t realize it was put on. “Elder Court wasn’t my destiny.”

She wasn’t sure what her future held, but she’d come to terms with Tali’s choices. At first she’d considered switching to advanced medicine, but that seemed like admitting she couldn’t handle Court without Tali.

Were the past twenty years in training wasted?

No. She could do well as a Younger, and she was still sought for bond tests. A bond increased one’s magic, so joining with a twin was a boost. Bonding with a young fairy also extended the older partner’s lifespan. Most Court members didn’t mind that her upward mobility was limited.

She wished Warran minded more.

“Perhaps I’ll become healer for Clan Stonehaus,” she said, naming one of the smallest hill groups. “Theirs is due to retire.”

Warran sipped his wine. Too much to hope he’d take her seriously and break up with her on the spot.

“I’m sure you can find a better vocation than that.” Ophelia inclined her head. “There’s more to life than Court. You’re the crown princess of Serendipity.”

“Our primes are two hundred. It isn’t likely Tali and I will be called to service.” The top-ranked siblings in a clan were next in line for clan primes. Crowns received a stipend, duty waivers and had some influence in clan rulings.

Little did most of the Realm know she and Talista couldn’t fulfill that role either. They hadn’t decided how to abdicate because they could hardly confess Tali’s bondmate was a onesie who couldn’t remain in the Realm longer than two weeks at a stretch. Who wasn’t even supposed to exist.

“It’s a shame antique customs hold us back,” Warran said. “Is there really any need for Elder sets to be whole? Primaries, yes, but not Elders. When does the Court join in a single magical endeavor? Too many of our policies are based on myths. Anisette would be an asset to any governing body.”

Why Warran considered her an asset when she knew she was passive and easily swayed, she wasn’t sure. Or perhaps that
was
why. Leaders needed followers. Growing up with Tali had certainly taught her the art of following.

“Warran and I were confirmed for Younger Court by seventy,” Ophelia said. “Long before the Fiertags were born.”

“Bah.” Warran thumped down his wineglass. “They’re too young to be Primaries. Skythia’s a spendthrift, Embor’s on the verge of collapse and their vendetta against the AOC blinds them. They don’t have enough perspective to see the damage the old ways are doing.”

Ani stifled a groan. Conversations with the Torvals inevitably turned to politics. She knew more about their desire to topple Embor and Skythia than she cared to. The impending Primary assessments, a series of tests candidates underwent to prove their fitness, had increased their zeal—and their unpleasantness.

Despite Ani’s mixed feelings about Embor, the Fiertags were competent leaders who’d countered more threats than most citizens realized. The Elder Court had been informed of the Torval foursies’s treachery five years ago but kept in the dark about details. Ani didn’t even have all the details, and she’d been involved.

But she knew more than Warran and Ophelia, and tonight she had a strong urge to give them a disgust of her.