The duke frowned, his brows drawing together.
I didn't look. I fisted my hands, trying not to let the rage make me snarl. I could practically hear Auntie scolding me, her arms crossed over her chest. You care too much about this life, Quyen. You need to learn peace.
Maybe I did. But if that was the legacy I'd been handed—if the fucking rape of forced sterilization was my inheritance, when those vicious crimes had been visited on so many people like me—
"It's a simple enough spell," Ace said in a careful voice. "Infertility as the price of my life. If I try to have someone break the spell, I die. I'm the last Vaylir. The last of the Sagebrush royals."
There was a lot behind those words; plenty of unspoken communication going on. It was an infertility spell, and a spell that Cass could theoretically cast, since he could have done it to Vad. That made it a healing spell, and I would have bet any amount of money that no healer that Omahice had kept on staff could hold a candle to Cass with the force of the Court of Mercy behind him. But it was a spell that was tied to Ace's life, one that would kill him if he tried to pursue breaking it.
Naming himself royal was as much a warning as telling me his enmity against the crown lingered. He would reclaim Sagebrush Court if he could. Letting him have children would be dangerous—would give him a way to re-establish his family line. Of course a conqueror would have taken that from him, the same way his family had been taken from him, down to the dogs.
There was no way Ace wanted to be permanently infertile against his will any more than he wanted to be crippled and in pain. There was also no way for him to ask me to fix it.
He'd given me the information. It was up to me to make a decision about it, and I had to do it without putting him in a position where he had to defend the spell that bound him.
I laced my fingers behind my back and licked my lips. "I don't keep secrets from my soulmate."
A faint smile. His dark lashes lowered. "It's not a secret."
"Mm." I turned to look at him.
The duke met my gaze, an assessing light in his hazel eyes. "I ought to go."
"And I ought to tell my soulmate to keep fixing what his predecessor defaced, assuming you're alright with that. His Splendor keeping you from hurting, I mean, and repairing the strain of your steps," I said, keeping my expression placid, instead of trying to emphasize the implications of that statement. Aeskanai Vaylir was no naif. He'd know what I meant.
His ears leaned forward in a position I associated with pleasure and focus from Cass. Relief, maybe, or pleased surprise. "Granting mercy, your majesty?"
I remembered Paloma's sharp pleasure in stating that granting mercy made debtors, and shook my head. "Repaying the debt we inherited," I said, holding his gaze. "If you've spent the last thousand years living with the punishment for loving a creature enough to try to save it, I think the least the Crown can do in recompense is to do our best to ensure that you spend the next thousand freed of those chains."
For a moment, the sun gleamed in his eyes, but with a sharp blink the wet vanished. "I think I'll spend the next hour in the gardens," he said quietly, his voice level. Ace turned away. Tension lined his body, his shoulders taut and the long line of his spine straight. "It's a lovely day, and I'm deeply grateful for the respite from pain."
"Safe travels, your grace." I set my hand on the cool stone of the palace gate. "I look forward to seeing you again."
"This doesn't make us friends," he said quietly, not looking back.
"I hardly think that matters," I said with a laugh. He glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised, and I gave him a smile in return. "You're a good conversationalist, and you're willing to engage with me. I'm happy to have an old enemy as my honored guest. I like a little spice in my life."
The duke's mouth slanted up. "I enjoy being an honored guest, even of an old enemy." He put one hand over his heart. "Until we meet again, your majesty."
"'Til then," I said in return. I watched him go for a long moment, then turned to the palace wall, and thought of Cass.
Moving Forward
To my relief, Cass hadn't gone to bed while I'd been with Ace. He'd finished getting ready for bed, though, so when I stepped back into the monarchal suite, he was wearing pajamas (including, to my sorrow, a shirt), and he'd brushed his hair out so that it rested against his shoulders in shining waves. He looked up from where he was halfway through playing chess against himself, searching my expression.
Whatever he found must have reassured him, because he gave me a half-smile and sat back. "You have a bit of a temper, don't you?"
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. It was true.
"Are you still angry with me?" he asked.
"I wasn't really angry in the first place," I said. I sighed and walked over to him, then dropped heavily into the seat across from him. "I'm not that great at being emotionally vulnerable, and being tangled up with you… it strips off all my shields. It's not bad, but I'm not good at it." I shrugged, feeling awkward about the admission. "I was hurt, I guess. It feels like we take three steps forward and two steps back sometimes."
His expression eased. "That's still progress."
"I know. I just hate going backwards." I sprawled back against the chair. "I guess it's only been six days, though, huh? Maybe I shouldn't be so high-strung."
Cass hooked an arm over the back of the chair with a smile. "You were talking to Vaylir."