Bloodsong Ch. 02

"Father, I spent hours on this! Gods!" Tessalia's hand dove in her handbag and whisked out a small mirror. Belladonna, not so asleep after all, made a noise that did a poor job of pretending it wasn't a disdainful snort. Angelica was more interested in swatting a mosquito that had wiggled through the nets covering the windows. Reassured that her hair was nothing other than pristine, Tessalia put the mirror away.

Little else was said for the rest of the journey.

The carriage came to a shambling halt by the entrance to the Glass Tower gardens. Their father got out first. A pair of slaves rushed to help with the trains of the dresses as each sister climbed down. Valeriana stepped off and was promptly bitten by something. It flew away before she could extract retribution.

She trotted behind her family through the labyrinth of shrubs and succulents. Valeriana had been at the Glass Tower only once, three years back. It seldom hosted events, being located outside the city and having the topmost of its fifteen floors in almost perpetual disrepair. The heavy winds in the area made quick work of the windows higher up. They'd been fixed for the occasion and glittered merrily under the starlight.

Valeriana wondered whether Jack would appear. Tessalia had obtained an update on the guest list early that afternoon. His name had still been on it, but he wasn't the type to send prior notice excusing himself, so she'd only know for sure once she arrived.

It would . . . it would be fine.

Inside, they went their separate ways. The twins disappeared together, as always. Her father spotted a known face among the guests and wandered off, though not without sending Valeriana a parting glare. Tessalia, as promised, stuck by her and steered her to the staircase leading up to the second story, a wide balcony overlooking the ballroom. They leaned over the railing, her sister studying the people below, Valeriana training her eyes on her feet and struggling to stop herself from fidgeting.

"Hm," Tessalia mused. "He decided to show."

"Who?" Valeriana asked, but then she saw a familiar figure cut through the crowd, looking around as though in search of something. A tentative smile formed on her lips. Since it had been Tessalia who had drawn her attention to him in the first place, she felt safe in remarking: "Oh. That's good. After the way he left yesterday, I was afraid he might not come."

"I presume that the fact that he looks presentable is your doing?"

Valeriana started nodding, but then took a closer look and realized that there'd been more change than just new clothes.

"He got his hair cut," she said, as Jack's eyes found hers. She knew without a doubt that it was her he'd been hunting down.

Having found her, however, he didn't head for the stairs but halted, the people and the slaves moving around him, his expression more cryptic than Tessalia's, whose features had melted from benevolently superior into something unreadable and not altogether reassuring. Valeriana tried to convince her stomach to stop doing pinwheels.

"Go," her sister told her.

Valeriana stared at her, nonplussed.

"I . . . go?"

"Go down there. Find somewhere where you can be seen but not heard, so it doesn't look like you are sneaking off. Talk to him." Valeriana's face was blank with shock rather than inability to parse what she'd heard, but Tessalia took it for the latter and added: "Do you want to get mated to Ralen Maltos?"

"Want?" she repeated, stressing the word like her sister had, savoring its unfamiliar, bittersweet taste. "I mean, of course I want to. I've been so terrified that no one would want to mate me at all that—"

"Yes, but him, specifically, him. Do you want to get mated to him?"

"I'm sure that if there were anything objectionable about his person, our father would have . . ." she trailed off. "I'm not sure what point you are trying to make by asking these things, Tess. I truly don't . . ."

Tessalia closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, her features fitting themselves to a familiar cast. The 'Valeriana, you are an idiot and I can't comprehend why I even bother with you sometimes' one.

"Maltos hasn't arrived yet. I instructed Ange and Bells to look out for him and entertain him for as long as they can. That should give you at least ten minutes. Go talk to that boy."

"But—"

"Now. Stop arguing. What am I always telling you?"

"Uhm. That I'm stupid and should do as you say?" Tessalia looked like a dog she'd believed friendly had decided to bite. Valeriana should apologize for her words, but . . . they weren't inaccurate.

She stood around for another second. Her sister failed to come up with a blistering counterattack, plastered one hand to her forehead and made shooing motions with the other.

Valeriana fled.

Jack waited at the bottom of the stairs, hands in his pockets and looking the most put together she'd ever seen him. He'd gone with the dark blue suit. Without her around to prod him, odds were that the paisley one would remain buried in his closet forever.

His features were schooled into muted, polite pleasantness, and he sighed at the sight of her as she drew near, sounding exasperated but fond. The absence of hostility made the tightness inside her unwind.

Valeriana greeted him with the quietest of hellos, risked a wobbly smile and looked him up and down, minding the distance between them, the tone her voice needed to take. Not too loud. Not too whisperingly. Frivolously cheerful, shallowly friendly.

"Look at you! Your hair! I didn't even think of advising that you cut it, I was certain that you'd never!" It might not have been such a bad thing that Jack abhorred social gatherings. Talking to him in this manner more than once in a blue moon would no doubt have felt strange and exhausting. "Even Tess said that you were presentable, and you know what she's like. You must comb it, though, alright? Even if it's short."

"And you look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you." She ran a hand through her hair. It hadn't been so elaborately done that she couldn't touch it. Jack had looked away while offering the compliment, more interested in scanning those around them, no doubt watching out for inconvenient relatives who might lurk in the vicinity. Valeriana still treasured it. "I was so, so sure that it would turn out a mess, or fit wrong, or tear at the last minute, which now that I think about it, it still might . . . oh, and this is for you, read it and put it away and please don't lose it, I borrowed it from Angelica and if someone finds it lying around, she'll never let me hear the end of it."

He took the booklet from her extended hand as if expecting it to burst into flames.

"What's this?"

"The guest list. Annotated by all of us except Bells. This is an old copy. It changed a bit since yesterday, but it should help you know who to talk to and what about. I also circled every girl who—"

"You work too hard on these things, the four of you," Jack muttered, shaking his head. His eyes dissected the names and the writing attached. "Why do the women have numbers?"

"Tess always rates their attractiveness." Threat level, more like. Her eldest sister approached all formal socializing like one would a war campaign. From the face Jack made, Valeriana surmised that he thought along similar lines and felt as disturbed as she did. "I don't know what her criteria are, but it goes from one to six, with anything above four being what even you would agree is comely. Now, as I was saying — I circled the ones who I know are nice and likely to have things in common with you."

"Why would you — never mind, forget I asked." He folded the booklet in two and put it away. Valeriana struggled not to look crestfallen. She'd tried. It had always been a long shot. "Can we talk? Because we need to talk. Elsewhere."

She noticed his hands balled into fists and the strain in his voice and the throbbing vein at his temple.

"Oh. Uh. Alright. We should stay out in the open, though, otherwise people will assume . . ."

Jack returned a stiff nod, but his eyes had already gained a vacant, glassy quality that meant that her words were going in through one ear and exiting through the other without brushing the contents of his skull.

Valeriana guided him to the nearest unoccupied chaise, where she sat him down. She herself remained standing, waiting for him to straighten out his speech. It took him a while, and she tried not to fret. About the time. About Tessalia's deadline. About how no matter how she adjusted her body language, people might draw inconvenient conclusions about their interaction, even if those odds were balanced by Jack looking like he might sick himself all over the floor if prodded.

"Mated," was all he said, after what felt like too long.

"I, well, yes." Awkward silence descended, so she struggled to fill it. "Ralen. Ralen Maltos, that's his name. He's about three hundred, has two younger brothers, his family's fortune comes from the Drakoe Spice trade, he has a home in South Soralia but came here for the seasonal festivities—"

"Do you love him?"

"I'm only meeting him tonight. I'm sure I will, though."

"You've never met him?" He sounded steadier this time around. Steadier and as scathing as Angelica at her best. Valeriana could only sigh. She hadn't expected Jack to be overjoyed, but she might have done with less derision. "If you've never even met him, how are you matched? Why did he pick you?"

She focused on her breathing and closed her eyes so they wouldn't water, so that she could pretend that the question didn't cut bone deep.

"He saw me at the Century Turn luncheon, and I suppose he must have . . . liked me? Shockingly enough? He then went and spoke to my father, and they worked it all out."

"He went to your father without bothering to introduce himself?"

"That's how these things sometimes work, yes."

"It doesn't make a lick of sense," Jack spat. Valeriana's chest ached at his tone. Even if she hadn't counted on him being thrilled, she'd trusted that he'd understand why someone would want her. Instead, he looked like he had the day before, like the ground had vanished from under him, like he couldn't conceive of anything that justified the current situation. His voice thrummed with the effort of making itself casual when he next spoke. "Was that why you said you didn't know if you'd return to Lenosh? South Soralia is worlds away. I presume he'll want you to move there with him."

". . . yes. I'm, I'm looking forward to that, actually, a little?" That gave Jack a start, although Valeriana wouldn't be able to say why. He shifted his gaze to the domed ceiling and left it there while she rattled on, unsure if her words were steering the conversation for the better or the worse. "I've never been off world. It should be an interesting experience, you know I've always wanted to travel. I realize it's far away—"

"It's another world. You'll drop off the map, what with time differentials and everything. I'd never get to see you again. Once every decade, with luck." It was her turn to have a start, avert her eyes and chew on the inside of her cheek. The same thought had popped in her head so many times and yet, and yet, hearing it said aloud felt like a knife to the chest.

"It would . . . will . . . it will be hard for us to see one another regardless, after I'm mated." She twined her hands, stifling the urge to reach out and clasp his, smothering her distress before it translated into tears. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't cry. They had always been an anomaly, their friendship existing on borrowed time. These were the last few grains of sand tumbling down an hourglass that could not be turned back around. "We've known all along that this would happen someday, right? I mean, it's just . . . it's how things are. People grow up, they get mated, they . . ."

"They don't have to. You don't have to."

If his posture didn't reflect her own upset, Valeriana would have felt something like frustration.

"That's easy for you to say. You—" Oh, where to start, how to lay out the differences between them, so obvious to anyone not stone blind? "You've told me that your aunt prefers that you wait to get mated. Your father may ask about it whenever he remembers your existence, but you don't care about his opinion and he won't disown you for not hurrying. If I go up to my father and tell him I'd rather not mate Ralen Maltos, do you know what he'd do to me?"

"He just wants you gone." Jack's upper lip curled back in a sneer. "He doesn't care who takes you."

"Well." Valeriana hesitated, looking around to make sure that not much attention was being paid to them, before lowering her voice to a murmur. "There are minimum requirements, since he wants me away but would also like to profit from it. This was just the first and only suitable person who took an inter—"

"I'm available."

He'd said words. Only she wasn't sure she'd understood.

"You . . . what?"

"Me. Available. If you have to get mated and the only stipulation is that one's able to pay off your cunt of a father—" Valeriana only stared, too stunned to object to the coarseness. Jack had fixed his eyes on the carpet. "It's as you said. My family doesn't give a fig. We've known each other for years. You know I . . . care about you, and you wouldn't be so invested in reforming me unless you returned the feeling."

There was nothing for it. Valeriana went against propriety, discarding the thought that her sisters would skin her alive if they saw her like this. She sat down beside Jack, squeezing warmth into his stiff, shaking fingers. How he could feel cool to the touch in this environment was something best not wondered about.

"I know you care. I care for you too. But—" She felt the hand she held twist, wanting to make itself a claw, and held it tighter, squeezing, pleading for him to understand. "You can't — do you realize what you'd be throwing away? And for what? Just to help me?"

"I don't want to become a stranger," he whispered, speaking as though his throat were clogged. "This way, that wouldn't have to happen. We could go to Soralia either way, or elsewhere, wherever you want."

She stared at Jack, handsome and dashing in his new clothes, golden hair gleaming in the lamplight, the only thing amiss his lack of a smile.

It was soft and sharp, the feeling drenching her. For a moment the thought crossed her mind, burning through like the incandescent ice of a meteor's tail: for sure it would be nicer to get mated to someone she knew and liked, already loved and trusted, than a name with a short blurb fleshing out the person behind it.

It would be easy, so easy, to say yes and bring on that future. It would also be selfish, and therefore she would not.

"It's not your responsibility to step up. I'd never, ever ask you to." He opened his mouth, a breathed syllable leaving his lips before she pressed a finger against them to trap whatever words would have followed. "In fact, I forbid you from doing so."

Jack's face fell. His hand slipped between her fingers, doubled back so that it was him holding her. The fevered, almost crazed look hadn't left him. It had intensified.

"Why?" he whispered, in an oddly fractured way, squeezing her hand to the point of pain. "At least entertain the idea, will you? You couldn't possibly prefer to get mated to someone you never even met!"

"I'd rather you be happy, Jack! Gods!" She got up, made a quick gesture encompassing them, the ballroom, the tower, Alkarosh, the world, the worlds. She couldn't see, but could picture, his nails digging in his palms until skin broke. "A mate bond is forever, and somewhere out there is a girl for you. How do you expect to build a life with her if you get stuck with me? You have the luxury of choice. Do you think I could live with myself, knowing that you gave that up for the sake of pity?"

"I don't care about some hypothetical girl." The very notion of this shadowy stranger appeared distasteful to him. "And I'm not offering to do this because I pity you."

"Yes, you are. It's pity and not wanting anything to change, because you've never been good at thinking long term, so every small deviation from what you are used to seems like a catastrophe." Valeriana rubbed her forehead, wishing that he would get it, praying that this harrowing conversation would end. "You'll meet someone, even if you don't care for the possibility right now. She'll be beautiful and clever and whole, she won't shrivel up in fear of your aunt, she'll laugh at the jokes that I think are in poor taste. She'll never find you mean or underdressed. You'll never find her silly or boring. You'll love each other beyond this life and into darkness everlasting, and I — I'll be fine. We'll be happy, both of us. Not together, which is sad to think about, but we will be."

"I'm not doing this out of pity, you . . . senseless . . ." His entire countenance looked bizarrely charged now, his eyes electric and verging on manic as he hissed: "I'm doing it because I love you."

Of course he did. Perhaps he even believed that it was a love that could sustain what he offered her. With unbearable gentleness, Valeriana pried his fingers away.

"And I love you too. So, so very much. Which is why it's a no, and will remain a no. You'll see that I'm right."

"I'll see," Jack echoed. He'd gone somewhere again, in his head. She hated it when he did that. It was a skill she also used, but she was never so ungracious as to do it while carrying on an important conversation. "What if something made this arrangement fall through?"

Valeriana froze. Squared her shoulders. Didn't let her voice waver a fraction as she replied:

"I won't ruin it."

"I'm not suggesting that you would ruin it. Only that sometimes people get . . . unlucky." He waved a hand in what she assumed to be a dismissal until it caught her chin. Too close. They were all sorts of too close, at any moment someone would notice, even if by some miracle the rest they'd been doing had gone unacknowledged. Valeriana still couldn't bring herself to move away. Things, thoughts raced in the gaze he rested on her, so fast and fleeting she couldn't fathom their shape. He leaned in as she convinced herself to draw back. "Whatever happens, it won't be your fault, alright? Remember that."

"What do you—"

"I'm going to hunt down my aunt and see if she agrees to a ceasefire. We'll talk later."

"But—"

Jack got up and left, no goodbyes, swallowed by the crowd in the time it took to blink.

________________________________________

Valeriana didn't sit alone and aimless for long in the wake of Jack's departure. Tessalia didn't have the ability to pop up in places out of thin air, but she could have sworn otherwise.

Unnerved, she wondered if the other had been listening in. Hardly out of character, but since she didn't look as if she were about to launch into the lecture of a lifetime, probably not.

"Result?" Tessalia asked. No, demanded. Valeriana hugged her midsection, wanting to make the trembling in her arms subside, but only succeeded at making her entire upper body shake instead.

"He didn't . . . he didn't take it well." She admitted it before contemplating whether it was wise to share it with Tessalia. Maybe creating a rift between her and Jack had been her sister's goal. In retrospect, it was the only plausible reason they would have been encouraged to talk to each other.

Valeriana couldn't fault the logic behind it. A clean break might have been easier; painful and more of a shock, but the hurt wouldn't stretch and languish over years or decades while they built lives apart and forgot why they were supposed to care about each other.

Still. There'd been no fight, no ending. They'd argued, but that was nothing new. She couldn't even say that Jack had left her on a sour note, since to be perfectly honest, Valeriana still wasn't sure what note he'd left her on.