Rhosyn watched from the balcony that overhung the ball, most of the lords and ladies had left with long travels ahead of them, while she spotted a few more disappearing through the door. Her heart hit in her chest and she speculated on her future for a fragile moment.
One of the young lords, Ewitts, caught her eye and she watched him for a moment. He had a dazzling smile and ladies seemed to adore him. He was unattached and polite to the women.
"Oh, definitely not," an accented voice pulled Rhosyn's attention away—Duke Karsyn.
"What?" she defended.
"You wouldn't want to marry him," Karsyn watched her out the side of his vision as much as he watched Ewitts. "Just because he looks attractive."
"I'm not looking at you like that and you're—"
His eyes caught hers and she paused, the grin on his face a little too unsettling, but she couldn't let him cower her.
"—attractive."
"You're looking at me now," Karsyn leaned in and she hated that he did. "Besides," his attention slid back to Ewitts, "he hits his staff—not a nice man behind closed doors."
"How do you—" but the question died on her tongue.
She knew exactly how he knew—he paid the man's staff or heard rumours through others. And his triumphant winning eyes told her she'd guessed right.
"Why are you here anyway?" Rhosyn changed the tone of the subject, and she shifted to face him head on.
"And I thought you came to our favourite meet because you wanted to talk," the duke drawled, all too satisfied with himself. "Well, my boy Dowly told me something very interesting."
Rhosyn raised her chin, but Karsyn only rose with it, to his full height. "He loves Lady Naome, and so I only helped," she held her tone.
"So, I've heard—a marriage to solve all problems. But marriage can't solve everything, Lady Valewyn," Duke Karsyn rebutted.
"Marriage has united enemies timelessly, why couldn't it solve even the gravest of issues, Duke Karsyn?" Rhosyn pressed.
"Some issues are bigger than man himself."
"Bigger than man and woman together?"
Karsyn stepped closer, his voice dipping to a quiet tone—and she had to focus on his lips to make out the dangerous words. "There's a war coming, Lady Valewyn." He was leaning over her, but she stood her ground. "Whether we like it or not, and I am the man that'll be leading the charge."
She didn't flinch, didn't move. Karsyn stepped in, heat and shadow closing the inches.
"Are you afraid of me, Lady Valewyn?"
Rhosyn felt the pause catch in her throat—and cut it clean.
"Is there a reason to be, Your Grace?"
A slow curve took his mouth. There's that smug smile, she thought.
"Not for those who heed," he said. "Only for those who don't."
He'd pulled away, his heat replaced with a chill. Footsteps retreating down the hall.
"You don't seem like the man to make threats, Duke Karsyn," Rhosyn's words chased him, halting his movements.
"And I hear you work in the shadows too, Lady Valewyn." He half turned back, his face half shrouded in darkness, half illuminated by a flickering brazier, framing his features wickedly. "I'm not fooled the same as the other lords by the Crown Prince's puppeteer."
"Careful, Duke. Those words are treasonous."
"Even if they're true?"
Rhosyn let the silence answer his question. They both knew the answer. The Crown didn't answer to the truth, it only answered to God. But the duke wouldn't understand that. Or he refused to.
He made a noise that sounded smug, as if being proved right. But he didn't make a move to leave—not yet.
She took a step forward, anxiety pooling in her middle.
"Duke Karsyn," her voice carrying strong despite the nerves she felt. The duke seemed to have been waiting for her words, as if knowing they were coming. "I heard that you like making deals—I wonder if you'll make one with me."
His gaze shifted and the faintest hint of interest stirred in his eyes. But that was all he gave away.
If doubt still lingered, then she'd better swallow it down—because there was no changing her mind from here. Apprehension stirred, winning a shaky breath from her. But only the one.
"You've got my attention, Lady Valewyn," the duke said, and there was nothing more unnerving than his undivided curiosity.
Rhosyn deliberately walked towards him, eyes locked—the stare down intense and she pondered on him. What made him tick? What did he really want?
She thought she knew, but then she stopped herself. If she delved any deeper, she might lose herself in him and she couldn't risk that. She needed to keep her eye on the goal—and that was Edrien.
"Shall we?" Rhosyn asked, glancing up through her lashes, not desiring to look up at the man—even if it was only physically.
Duke Karsyn's brow twitched, something new and bright glimmering in his eyes and she was sure he was thinking of a way to mock her again. A new way to exploit his need for entertainment and seeing her as his new favourite toy.
She reached a door leading to an abandoned office space, twisting the knob and swinging the door open. The duke paused alongside her, waiting for her to lead. But she turned to her knight instead.
"Sir Caerwyn," Rhosyn called, the man stepping into view, his face grim and hand resting on his hilt. "Could you please get what I've left laid out on my desk in my room?"
She knew that Caerwyn was very protective of her, especially since the attempt on her life from the north. But she was rather surprised that the man kept his composure.
Karsyn seemed unbothered by the knight's displeasure, his body remaining close to hers, a bold slight and ego of a man playing possessive politics. Caerwyn didn't like it.
"By my oath—" Caerwyn started, only to be cut off by her look.
He knew the risk of diminishing her authority in the presence of others. It made her look weak, and weakness was a death sentence. But he didn't want to leave her alone—not when she was in danger.
His jaw tensed and she knew he wrestled with his own code. His thumb counted the threat against his sword guard. One—an unknown man he didn't trust. Two—armed, though sheathed. Three—
"Or shall we all head to my room as that's where the documents are?" Rhosyn asked, cutting off the knight's counting.
Karsyn's brow hitched, taking in the scene with new fascination. Which only drove more friction between the two men, Caerwyn's fist balling.
Caerwyn knew that the optics of inviting a man to her rooms, even under the supposed care of her knight—people would talk. It was best to keep the meeting on neutral ground. That alone was a threat.
Rhosyn spoke to him with her eyes as usual. The strong plead to comply, whilst promising that she'll be cautious.
He nodded. "Fine, My Lady," Caerwyn ground out, regret already catching in his breath. "I will be back shortly." And he meant it.
Before he moved, his gaze slid to Karsyn, a warning burning there and the duke simply smirked as if finding it all comical. Then Caerwyn was marching off, long strides and surprising speed.
"Shall we?" Karsyn asked from her shoulder, still waiting for her to make a move—a choice.
Rhosyn entered the decent sized room, a table in the centre, shelves laden with disused books and a window overlooking the gardens. She only stopped when she reached the table and turned back to face the duke.
He stood by the closed door, unmoving for a moment, watching her—reading her. Then he started to prowl around the room, sticking to the wall and following it around like a slow shadow. Each step in time to the tick of a clock on the wall.
"So," he spoke lazily, humour still twisting at his lips. "What did you want to trade?"
"It's best that we wait for my documents before discussing the details," Rhosyn said, feeling the room boxing in on her as he flanked her. But the further he walked, the more he left the door as an easy escape.
Was he trying to give her a way out? To flee if she felt she needed it.
Karsyn paused when he reached the other side of the table, his eyes fixing on her. There was measure there. A slow weighing of details, like what she might want, what she might have and why'd she walked into a room, alone, with a man who she believed to be her enemy. All brilliant questions, and only one of them would truly be answered.
"Should we get to know each other while we wait, Lady Valewyn?"
If words were how Karsyn played, then he had just played his first move—a pawn, simple and seemingly insignificant. Rhosyn, however, was well rehearsed in this game.
She leaned against the table, deciding to play. "And what is it you want to know, Your Grace?"
His expression didn't change, but she could feel the way he leaned in too. It was subtle, a breadth of a hair. His breath washing over her, warm and honeyed.
"I see my prayers were answered that you found your knight, My Lady. But tell me, if you may, why does he not follow your commands so readily?"
Rhosyn wasn't sure if he was insulting her or mocking her.
"Loyalty, Your Grace," she answered, taking a step, travelling the length of the obstacle that split them.
"To you?" he challenged, and she couldn't refuse the bait to bite back.
"Yes, he vowed to protect me."
Slowly the cold was chased away with every step, every second sounded on the clock, every determined breath she breathed.
"No matter what," the duke replied. It wasn't a question, but a statement.
He understood why, so why was he asking?
"So, why did he let you get so close to me—alone—in a room with the door closed?"
Rhosyn paused. But that was because there were no more steps to take, no more space to close between them and no table to serve as a barrier of protection. She'd let him draw her in, distract her from the closed door and provoke her.
She realised the cold that had been chased away because of his body-heat, pouring off him and her mind turned to how northerners must all be so hot to live in a place so cold.
He didn't make an attempt to move. Seemingly comfortable with the little distance between them and strangely she didn't feel the need to retreat. A mixture not unlike the sickly sweet wine burned in her stomach and twisted in her chest, making it hard to take a full breath.
Before her lips parted to dispel the duke's disillusion, the door flew open, Caerwyn striding into the room carrying her requested items. He took in the close proximity and instantly moved to intercede.
As he stepped out of the doorway, another body was revealed—Edrien.