‘You’re a terrible friend, you know that?’ Brasti asked. ‘I expect recompense in the form of strong drink.’
The two of them headed up the path towards the former Margrave of Barsat’s summer palace. I briefly considered running after them, but Brasti would never have let me live it down, so instead I turned and faced Rhyleis: musician, actress, spy, and some day soon, quite likely the death of me. The smile on her face and the curve of her hips filled me with more trepidation than all of Evidalle’s men combined.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Duelling Flirtations
‘Why Falcio,’ she began, turning my name into the opening of some kind of tune, ‘you look like a frightened cat backed into a corner by a bloodthirsty hound.’
Even I wasn’t going to fall into the trap of admitting that her words perfectly summed up the situation. ‘Rhyleis, you are, as always, a delight to the eyes, music to the ears and an unspeakable terror to the hearts of innocent men everywhere.’
All right, so poetry isn’t a weapon with which I’m particularly skilled – but I still thought it a passable opening salvo.
‘The same could be said of all women, don’t you think?’ she asked.
Another trap. Never let yourself be tricked into comparing one woman with all others; it rarely turns out well. ‘Rhyleis, is there any chance I could convince you to punch me in the face now rather than spinning out whatever torment you’ve got planned for me?’
The Bardatti looked utterly crestfallen. She took a shallow breath. ‘Oh, Falcio, is this to be our relationship? I come to you with adoration and you spurn me until my heart grows so fragile it awaits only one final snub before breaking entirely?’
And here it was: the ambush.
Any time I think I have Rhyleis figured out, she turns this petty flirtation of hers around on me and the next thing I know, I’m apologising for having hurt her feelings. She’s just too damned good an actress – but for all her teasing, there’s always a subtle question beneath her words, played out in brief flickers in her expression that makes me wonder if – just perhaps – this game of hers might mask a genuine affection that she’s otherwise unable to express. If I push her too far, I risk hurting her feelings.
That’s assuming that she has feelings.
I held up my hands in surrender. ‘Can we not simply agree that you’ve got the better of me once again? That I look like a fool while you are charming, witty and devastatingly brilliant?’
She tumbled into my arms as if we’d come to the romantic climax of the play. ‘Falcio, oh my Falcio! You always know just what to say to make a girl melt . . .’
I stood there awkwardly, trying to find some configuration of embrace that was neither inviting nor callous. She nestled closer to me. Apparently in my efforts not to offend, I’d overshot the mark considerably.
‘You should be nicer to me, you know,’ she said, reaching up a finger to tap my nose. ‘Wasn’t I the one who brought you word of Margrave Evidalle’s little revolution in the first place? Just think how much fun you’d have missed without me.’
‘I came here to enforce the laws, Rhyleis. Despite what you might think, I don’t actually go around looking for trouble.’
She tilted her head, just a little, and whispered, ‘Are you sure? Trouble can be rather fun, in the right company.’
Her breath was a mixture of sweet and spice that sent my heart racing. The moments after you’ve just survived a battle are a poor time to resist temptation. ‘Rhyleis, please . . .’
She placed her hands on my chest and arched her back to look up at me, briefly dropping the role of seductress. ‘Oh, Falcio. Am I really so menacing? Must you always act like the innocent boy, pining away on his lonely farm, dreaming of the day when the Saint of Mercy will finally come back to him?’
‘Could we leave Ethalia out of this?’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I would dearly love to, Falcio, but you appear to be incapable of letting her go.’
Though I wished it weren’t so, there was some truth to what she said. I did miss Ethalia. Our romance might have ended, but the ache of being apart from her hadn’t gone away.
‘Has Ethalia-who-shares-all-sorrows returned from her Saintly pilgrimage?’ Rhyleis asked innocently.
‘You know she hasn’t,’ I replied.
Rhyleis ignored the bite in my remark. ‘I wonder, in her quest to find the other remaining Saints, if she might fall in love with one – what a remarkable song that would make, don’t you think?’
‘Rhyleis, is this some bizarre effort to make me get off my arse and go chasing after Ethalia, or are you just trying to get me into bed again?’
She laughed enigmatically, in the way of actors, poets and other liars. ‘Can’t it be both?’
I felt her hands reaching up behind my neck, pulling me down into what would soon be a kiss. Our lips moved closer and my body politely requested that my mind stop getting in the way.
‘Perhaps it’s time you stopped confusing sex with love, Falcio val Mond,’ she whispered.
I felt my body, quite of its own accord, start to give in. Rhyleis was wild, unpredictable, clever, beautiful, and any number of other things that would make anyone feel lucky to be in her company. On the other hand, it really pisses me off when people try to manipulate me. The instant before our lips would have met, I turned my head and whispered in her ear, ‘Maybe it’s time you stopped confusing being beautiful with being desirable.’
She stiffened. For a moment I feared I’d gone too far, that my cruelty would be repaid with a devastatingly biting remark paired with a slap in the face. Instead, Rhyleis laughed, her voice neither cruel or mischievous, but light and winsome, like a bird taking flight. ‘“Stop confusing being beautiful with being desirable”,’ she repeated. ‘I love it! I must use that in a song some day.’
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding in.
‘Oh,’ she said, patting me on the chest, ‘I almost forgot why I came to find you in the first place.’
‘That seems unlikely.’
‘Don’t be like that. This is important. Duchess Ossia requests that you rendezvous with her at Werta’s Point, three days north of here.’ Rhyleis shook her head mournfully. ‘I believe you’ve got rather a severe scolding coming to you.’
‘But . . . but how could she possibly know already that we didn’t exactly follow her orders?’
Rhyleis tilted her head at me as if it were an odd question. ‘When do you ever follow orders, Falcio?’
I suppose she’s got a point.
‘Now, I must go and write down that wonderful line of yours. As always, you are an inspiration to me, Falcio.’ She gave me a peck on the cheek and momentarily pulled away, fooling me into thinking the moment had passed and the danger averted, but then her hand snaked behind my neck, she pulled me closer and kissed me full on the lips. I doubt a dozen such kisses have ever existed in the history of the world.