Steel's Edge

Kaldar grimaced, turned on his heel, and joined him. They walked to the house side by side. Richard had considered the possibility that Charlotte might leave him, stolen away by the glamour of blueblood society. Her adoption into the first ten made it even more likely.

 

The cube was cold in his hand. He entered the house and approached the imager. It sat to the left of the couches, a tall, round table about a foot and a half in diameter, with ornate metalwork decorating its single leg. A brown-and-gold carapace of polished metal guarded the top of the table. He touched it, and it split down the middle, the two halves of the carapace sliding down the table’s sides, revealing a delicate surface inlaid with strange designs. A pale blue glow shimmered along the surface, bathing the designs in its gentle radiance. At the center, three metal prongs rose in the semblance of an inverted bird leg armed with wicked talons.

 

He looked at the cube. Something told him he really didn’t want to know what was on it. The Mirror was the realm’s magpie: it gathered bits of information, some precious, some useless, and dragged them to its archives, like a foolish bird dragged baubles that caught its eye to its nest. There was no telling what he would see.

 

The talons waited.

 

He would rather know. Richard dropped the cube into the claws. The prongs closed about it. A dim blue light ignited within the cube, and an image of Charlotte formed above it. She was sitting on a balcony, somewhere high above. She looked younger, softer somehow. Her hair was gathered into a roll like a crown on her head, and her dress, a pale green, spilled on the floor. She truly did look like a princess.

 

A man stood next to her. He was slender, his hair a light brown. He wore a light jacket, fitted with crisp precision to his frame, matching pants, soft boots. The clothes announced money and a good tailor.

 

“You look very nice, Elvei,” Charlotte said.

 

“Thank you. You look divine, as usual.”

 

Elvei. Her ex-husband. Richard peered at the man’s face, assessing him as one fighter would assess another. Unless the man was an incredibly gifted flasher, Richard was reasonably sure he could take him. He could find no resemblance between himself and Elvei. They looked nothing alike. Perhaps that was part of the attraction. A selfish part of him said it didn’t matter why she liked him, but still, he wanted her to be with him because of who he was, not because of how he compared to the man she’d chosen before.

 

Elvei sat in a chair near the bench. “I hope you don’t mind if I pry.”

 

“I can’t say that I will until you ask me the question.”

 

“Then I will just come out and ask it plainly. Why is it necessary for Lady Augustine al Ran to approve our union?”

 

Charlotte leaned back. “I’ve told you the story of how I came to be at the College. I was taken from my family when I was very young. Over the years, I’ve come to think of Lady Augustine as my mentor. Her opinion is very important to me. Why is this troubling to you?”

 

Elvei smiled. “It appears today is my day to be blunt. I commend you for your devotion to your mentor, but the extent of the Lady al Ran’s inquiries into my background has been exceptionally . . . comprehensive. She requested the files on the first seven generations of my ancestors.”

 

“Do you have something to hide?” Charlotte asked.

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Then don’t trouble yourself.” She smiled and reached out to caress his face. The muscles in Richard’s arms tightened.

 

“You worry too much, Elvei.”

 

“Charlotte, you are of age and have been for quite some time. You don’t really need her permission to marry.”

 

“Elvei, I would never consider a long-term relationship, let alone marriage, with any man who hadn’t met with Lady Augustine’s approval. She’s like a mother to me, and her view is vital.”

 

“And if she disapproved of me?”

 

“I would break our engagement. I’m afraid that’s the price you have to pay for being with me.”

 

“Then I will gladly pay it.”

 

Charlotte smiled. The image melted.

 

“There you have it,” Kaldar said. “If you want a life with Charlotte, you’ll have to battle Lady Augustine, and that’s not a war you can win. When she asks about your background, what will you tell her?”

 

“That I’m a Mire rat.” Richard grinned. “That my father was a Mire rat, his father before him, and on and on, all the way to the beginning of our family when the ancient Legionnaires first settling the continent got trapped in the Mire and mixed with the natives.”

 

“Yeah, you should mention Vernard while you’re at it.” Kaldar shook his head.

 

“Yes, how could I forget. Dear Lady, my granduncle-in-law was an exile, one of my uncles was a changeling, and a few of my cousins aren’t even human. I have a tiny slice of land and very little money, and the only reason I’m allowed in Adrianglia at all is because my cousin Cerise married a changeling, who promised the Mirror ten years of service in exchange for asylum and citizenship for the Mar family. Did I miss anything?”

 

“You should have Charlotte there when you tell her that, or the noble lady might suffer an apoplexy. You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”

 

“That’s rich, coming form a man who never took anything seriously.”

 

“I take the safety of my wife and my family very seriously. What has gotten into you? Is any of this penetrating that thick skull of yours?”

 

“I’m not worried about the bluebloods stealing Charlotte away. She has seen them before, and she chose me instead. We also have bigger problems than Lady Augustine.” Richard crossed the room to the bookcase and pulled a heavy, embossed volume from the top of the shelf. He’d moved it there so Charlotte wouldn’t find it.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Charlotte can kill with her magic.”

 

Kaldar stared at him. “She’s a fallen healer. Richard, they’ll kill her if they find out.”

 

“That’s part of the problem.”

 

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