David Dalglish - A Dance of Ghosts

“I swear it,” said Victor, and his tone gave her chills. “I swear it on the grave of my parents, swear it on the lives of every single one of my men who’s died bringing them to justice. Their time must end.”

“And my son,” she said, voice softening. “Would you protect him as well?”

It seemed he was beginning to understand what was happening, and he took both her hands in his.

“He’s a smart lad, kind and honest,” Victor said. “I would be honored to raise him as my own.”

Alyssa took in a deep breath. This was it, then. Her decision was made, her heart committed.

“Then I wish to accept your offer of betrothal,” she said.

“Wonderful,” he said, then after a pause, “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

She wished she could feel the same. Not that she’d expected love and romance to be the reason for a marriage, not since Mark Tullen’s death and Arthur Hadfield’s betrayal years ago, but this felt less like the joining of equals and more like her attaching herself to a train of horses stampeding down a hill.

“Indeed, truly wonderful,” Alyssa said, not bothering to fake any enthusiasm. “I’ll contact Terrance and have him begin the preparations for a wedding. I’m sure he’ll be in touch with you as well, in regard to any customs or requests…”

“I do have one,” he said, interrupting her.

“You do?”

Another hesitation.

“Your … pet. Zusa. I would know just what she is to you and what she will be to me.”

Zusa? wondered Alyssa. What does he mean?

“I don’t understand,” she said.

Victor pulled back from her hands yet remained before her, hovering in her mind’s eye.

“She has never hidden her disdain for me, and I am no fool to the power she wields. Against my wishes, she murdered your mother. Melody deserved a trial, Alyssa, a chance to explain herself, a chance for us to see if anyone else was pulling the strings behind her strange ascension.”

“I understand, but she only…”

“She does what she wishes,” Victor said. “Or she does what you command. I must know, Alyssa. Is she a servant? A soldier? Your protector, or something more?”

Alyssa’s mind scrambled as she tried to think of the proper answer … or even one that was true. What was Zusa to her?

“Zusa has been with me since the very beginning,” she said. “She’s the truest friend I have ever known.”

Victor’s heavy hand fell upon her shoulder, and she sensed him leaning closer, felt the heat of his words lightly brushing her face.

“You don’t get to have friends, Alyssa. Not with your position. Not with your power. If I am to enter your household, it must be as an equal. Zusa may stay, but as a servant, obedient to both your orders and mine. Is that acceptable?”

She knew the answer she had to give, and it put a fire into her stomach. Grabbing the front of Victor’s shirt, she yanked him closer, brushing aside his hand from her shoulder.

“If I do this, you best pray to the gods you succeed,” she said. “I want Nathaniel to stand atop the graves of the guilds. That’s all that matters now, and if you can help me achieve it, I will reward you with everything I have. But if you fail…”

“If I fail, then you may let Zusa herself remove my head and present it to you on a silver platter. Is that acceptable?”

Alyssa fought down a grimace.

“It is,” she said.

“Then there is no sense in wasting time,” he said, and his footsteps headed toward the door. “I’ll send for her while I inform Terrance. You may tell her while I am gone. Make her understand, Alyssa. My request is not so great, not so peculiar. There will be dozens outside our home walls wishing to have me killed. I’d rather know for certain there are none within the walls of our home as well.”

The door shut, he was gone, and that was that. No happiness. No celebration, discussion over plans, who would move where, what would happen to the Kane family holdings. Not even a kiss on the cheek, just moving from one business to another.

Her father would have been proud.

The minutes crawled on as Alyssa sat back down on her bed, feeling more nervous than she had in years. She ran words through her mind a hundred times, trying to find something, anything that sounded right. It never did.

The door opened, far quieter than when Victor had come, and then a wrapped hand touched her own.

“You called for me?” Zusa asked.

Alyssa’s teeth clenched. She had to say something, anything. Nothing would be right, nothing would work nor convey her frustration and sorrow, so she just said it as plainly as she could.

“I’m marrying Victor,” she said.

Zusa’s hand on hers tensed, the woman’s sudden apprehension immediately apparent.

“Are you sure that is wise?” she asked.

“Wise?” Alyssa laughed. “The wise path is for me to lie down and die, letting Muzien conquer our city, all while praying Nathaniel somehow endures the following chaos. No, it’s not wise, but it is what must be done. Another war against the underworld is coming, and I cannot fight it on my own, and neither can Nathaniel. Someone must wield the sword for me, and Victor can be that man.”

“I could do it,” Zusa said. Her grip on her hand tightened, so much it nearly hurt. “I can lead your mercenaries. I can protect your home. You don’t need Victor. You don’t need to throw your lot in with that madman.”

“You?” Alyssa said, and the words were like fire in her throat. “You have no name. No home. No heritage. You’re just one of the monsters in the shadows, Zusa. No mercenaries I hire will show you loyalty. No nobles will accept your power. Victor gives this legitimacy. If he adopts Nathaniel as his own, it gives him a chance of inheriting the Gemcroft fortune without a thousand vultures circling. Nathaniel will come from the Kane family line, a true lordly heritage. No longer a bastard. No longer the shameful seed of the destroyed house of Kull.”

“He is your son . What legitimacy does he need beyond that?”

“You know better,” Alyssa said, and she felt her heart hardening. “Don’t pretend you don’t see it, that you don’t hear it. Nathaniel’s my wounded child, the child of a woman most think lost her mind years ago. They don’t respect me, and they don’t respect him. We’re not what this damn world wants. But someone like Victor…”

Zusa rose from the bed, and Alyssa could only imagine her standing before her, fingers curled into fists. Were there tears in her eyes? There were none in her voice … not yet, at least.

“Victor won’t give you what you want,” she said. “This risk you take…”

“Answer me this, Zusa, and answer it truthfully,” Alyssa interrupted. “Do you feel Victor is a danger to my son if we were to marry? Do you think he is a danger to my own life?”

A long pause.

“No,” Zusa said. “I think he favors Nathaniel and would treat him as his own son. As for you … betraying you would be beneath him. I think he views himself as more honorable than that.”

“Then what else matters, Zusa? Nathaniel will have a father, and more importantly, he’ll have a future. Veldaren’s gone to shit, and if we’re to endure, we need the help of someone like Victor.”

“You never needed anyone before. You once flooded the streets with fire and steel, and you were unafraid.”

Alyssa remembered those two nights, remembered the pain she’d felt.

“I was turning Veldaren into my own personal funeral pyre,” she said. “That wasn’t strength. That was recklessness. I can’t afford to be so reckless now. Muzien would have my head the moment he sensed betrayal. But if we’re patient, if we plan, if we coordinate with Antonil and Victor and my own forces…”