Mutable: Chapter Sixteen, Part Two

Notes: Cas, figuring out how to work a room. Or at least an audience of one. ;)

Title: Mutable: Chapter Sixteen, Part Two

***

Chapter Sixteen, Part Two

Cas had never, in all his years, seen such a haughty expression directed at him during an introduction. Tiyana might be the queen, but Lilah— “Lilah Marie Basinti, thank you very much—” was apparently the reigning ruler of Rone’s household, and she wasn’t happy to meet him. Not even close. Her dark brown eyes, which should have looked cute on her pixie-ish face, were narrowed with anger, and her hands were clenched into fists.

“You knew he was coming home with me,” Rone reminded her after she refused to shake Cas’s hand once they’d been introduced. “I told you every time we spoke.”

“I thought you were making a joke!”

Amiru laughed. “Trouble in paradise, brother?”

His wife bopped him on the arm as he sat down next to their youngest child. “How about you turn your attentions to your own little urchins, my dear? Gale is about to dump his soup over the top of his head.”

“Oh, damn, you’re right.”

“Lilah.” Rone leaned in and began speaking to her in a low voice. Once she finally looked away from Cas, petulant but at least listening to her father, Cas breathed an internal sigh of relief, then almost fell right back into panic. Where was he supposed to sit?

“There’s a place prepared for you next to Shar,” Tiyana said. Thank goodness she was a mind reader, or at the very least a competent hostess.

“Thank you.” He pulled out the chair—it was heavy and nearly too big for him, and the one that the child on his right sat in made the boy look even more miniature than he already was.

Shar had a lighter complexion than his sister, almost as pale as a cave-dwelling Delacoeurian, and his black hair was as fine as a spider’s web. He hadn’t said anything so far, not even to his father, just nodding or shaking his head to communicate. He wasn’t uninterested, though. He glanced up at Cas from under his eyelashes every now and then as he slowly ate his soup.

Any success of winning the children over would have to start with Shar, then. Lilah was more likely to be swayed by her brother than she was by her father anyway. But how did you go about impressing a child?

You showed him something he had never seen before, then paid attention to his reaction and did it again, or found something new. It had been a while since Cas had really used his sleight of hand skills, even though they were the foundation of much of his training as a carrier of the phage. “If you have the face of the right man but none of his personal effects, you’ll fail.” His instructor had made him learn to pickpocket, to palm, to hide, to hustle. If he couldn’t lift the ID card of his target, then he wasn’t allowed to become his target.

Amiru, Tiyana, and Freyne had fallen into what sounded like a familiar topic of conversation, if the way they argued about it was any sign. They weren’t paying attention to him or to Shar. Now was as good a time as any to see if he still had some of his early tricks.

Cas started with the tiny spoon at the top of the plate. A tutorial with Rone had informed him that the spoon was for stirring drinks—hot drinks only, cold ones had a different spoon. Ridiculous. But perfect for what he needed it to do, which was disappear.

Palming a tiny spoon and sliding it up his sleeve was easy. Making sure that Shar saw him do it was a little harder—he was putting on a show for one here, and it needed to get his attention but not attract the notice of anyone else. He was lucky, though, because Shar was riveted from the moment the spoon disappeared, staring from Cas’s hands to his face as if to say, How?

Cas smiled and, a second later, produced the spoon again. Shar startled, put both hands on the table and then, very slowly, pointed to his own spoon.

It was bigger, but still not hard. A little misdirection, a little tap, and—

If Shar’s mouth opened any wider, his jaw would hit the soup bowl. His eyes got even bigger when Cas pulled the spoon out of thin air and handed it back to him.

He ended up doing the trick for probably ten minutes, in a slightly different way each time. He made the spoon vanish into a napkin, into his uniform, into Shar’s dress shirt. He made it reappear in a water glass, balanced on the tines of the fork, or actually back in the soup bowl. Neither of them were getting any eating done, but both of them were pleased with the results. Shar was enthralled, and Cas was making the slightest bit of headway with one of Rone’s children. The other one, well…

She and Rone were sitting together on the far side of the room, her head tucked against his chest, his arms around her waist as he spoke to her softly. Cas could have listened in—the phage could augment hearing as easily as anything else—but he didn’t want to move it around inside of his body too much in a place that had murderous doors.

“What a clever little felon you are.”

Damn. Cas had gotten too focused on Shar, and now Freyne was picking at him again.

“Close your mouth if you can’t say anything nice with it, cousin.”

Oh, well…it looked like he had an unexpected ally this time. “It sets a bad example for the children,” Tiyana continued, then looked at Cas with a smile. “I’m sorry we’re neglecting you, Beren. I meant this meal to be a chance for us to really get to know each other, but then the boys’ nanny got sick, and—”

“Charl is sick?” Amiru sounded disturbed. “Since when does Charl get sick?”

“Since today, apparently. Just a stomach bug, she says. It should be gone quickly.” Tiyana turned back to Cas. “Those are fun little tricks, where did you learn them?”

Cas cleared his throat. “My brother taught them to me.”

“Oh, you have a brother too? How lovely.”

Cas forced a smile. “He was very kind to me. He didn’t survive the conflict on Leelinge, though.”

“Oh.” Tiyana pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

Everyone was looking at him now, even the baby, and that was the last thing Cas wanted. Luckily for him, Rone chose that moment to return to the table. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take our leave,” he said quietly. “Lilah is having a tough time at the moment, and I’d rather work things out in our own home than continue to argue about it in yours.”

“You’re always welcome, Rone.”

Amiru echoed his wife’s admonishment, and followed it up with, “I wish I could give you more time to settle in, but the general staff want analysis of the latest conflicts and they want it yesterday. Leelinge is beginning to look like one big mistake.”

“Because they’re looking at it from the perspective of a cost-benefit analysis, not the mission of mercy they pretended it to be.” Rone sounded disgusted. “Call a trade deal a trade deal, call a war a war, but don’t disguise whatever you’re doing like a coward.”

“Spoken by the man who ran our covert operations for years.” Freyne folded his hands across his lap, his face smug. “How ironic.”

Cas’s ears perked up, but a firm, “Gentlemen,” by Amiru put a stop to the interesting conversation. “We’ll discuss this later. Rone, go see to your family today but return to me tomorrow. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

Cas definitely agreed with that. He’d have to carve time out to do the work he truly needed to, and soon. Christala needed to be dealt with, the sooner, the better.

He hid the littlest spoon up his sleeve as he stood up, though, getting another grin out of Shar. Well. Maybe he could multitask.

Mutable: Chapter Sixteen, Part One

Notes: Here comes the family! This one is on the short side--work + baby + chores = kicking my time management in the ass lately, but some is better than none ;)

Title: Mutable: Chater Sixteen, Part One

***

Chapter Sixteen, Part One

Leaving the hall of lights was like getting his vision back. The phage had helped, but Cas didn’t want to overuse it, especially not in the king of Imperia’s palace, surrounded by technology he didn’t understand and people he didn’t trust. He blinked and made it seem harder than it actually was, clutched at Rone’s arm for a moment for veracity, and when Rone looked at him curiously, just said, “The light was bright.”

“It gives anyone a headache after the first hour or so,” Rone agreed. “Luckily for me, I don’t have to wallow in it very often. I leave that to my brother.”

“I can hear you mocking me,” King Amiru called behind himself as he led the way through the palace, the hall of lights leading into a smaller but no less ornate passageway. “And I make it a point not to expose myself to that particular tradition for any longer than I have to, no matter how regal it makes me look.” At the end of the hallway was a large door, edged in some sort of machine that Cas didn’t recognize. Amiru walked up and stepped right through it, but Rone held Cas back.

“Is this calibrated to let him enter yet?” Rone asked.

“No, but it will be in a few days. Does it matter? He’s clinging to you like a limpet, it’s not going to activate while he holds onto you. Everyone knows how these devices work.”

“Beren doesn’t.” Rone’s voice was completely even, but there was something about how he held himself that made Cas hold back a shiver. “And I’ll thank you not to put him in situations where he could get himself injured or killed out of ignorance.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought him to Imperia,” Freyne muttered, but backed off as soon as Rone looked at him.

Rone focused back on Cas, holding tightly to his hand. “This door leads into the royal quarters. It’s equipped with anti-intruder technology that will send a strong electric shock through anyone whose DNA isn’t recognized by it. If we’re touching skin-to-skin, you’ll be all right, but if we weren’t and you tried to step through it could be very unpleasant. If it can’t access DNA to sample as you try to step through it, like if you’re wearing total body armor, same reaction.”

That was actually fascinating, but also terribly inconvenient for Cas. “So I’ll be stuck inside if I’m not with you?” he asked.

“The children can help you through as well, or anyone else the system recognizes. I’ll have your genetic code uploaded to it soon, so it won’t be a problem.” He laced his fingers in between Cas’s. “Now then, let’s step through.”

Oh yes, lets step through the door of death together, that’ll definitely make me feel totally better about it. But again, pride pricked Cas enough that he couldn’t show weakness in front of his husband’s family. He nodded, and they stepped through the door. It buzzed faintly, and he felt a light tingle all over his body, but apart from that—

“Now that you’ve escorted the infant through, shall we get moving?” Freyne seemed half a second away from bypassing the order of rank and leading the way himself.

The last time Cas had wanted to hit someone so badly—just beat on them until they bled, never mind killing them like he’d done enough back home—had been Beren’s final teacher, who had dismissively said to him as he left school that he’d better not try and do anything challenging with his life, because he wasn’t made for greatness like his brother. Beren had been crushed and tried not to show it for three days until Cas had gotten the truth out of him.

He would have been great, if he’d lived. Cas knew it in his heart. Of the two of them, Cas was the failure. Not so failed that he didn’t know seventeen different ways to break Freyne’s nose, though, and four of them would make it look like an accident.

Maybe later.

The royal quarters kept to the red and gold theme, but there was also blue scattered about, and a calmer yellow and even some black here and there. There were children’s toys on the rug ahead of them, and to the right was a bright—but not too bright—room laid out with a long table and plenty of chairs. Five of them were already occupied.

“Not waiting even for the king himself before eating?” Amiru shook his head in mock-seriousness. “What is this family coming to?”

“It’s coming to feel very hungry, thanks to the king running so late,” the woman at the end said tartly. She had golden-brown hair that fell in tight waves around her head, and skin a few shades lighter than Rone’s. This had to be the queen, Tiyana—her ears were strung with rubies, and more red glinted from her nose and lip and high in her cheekbones. “The children were hungry.”

“We were hungry, daddy!” This was a round-cheeked little boy speaking, sitting right next to the queen. On her other side was a younger child, still in a chair that strapped him in. He shrieked as soon as he saw his father.

“Strong words for your old man,” King Amiru said, heading over to kiss his wife before ruffling the hair of each of his children. “Have pity on me, I brought back your Uncle Rone!”

The other guests at the table had turned around now, and as soon as they saw Rone, they both leapt from their chairs and barreled across the floor to him. He had to drop Cas’s hand to catch them both, kneeling down and folding them into his arms. “There you are,” he said, and Cas wasn’t sure if he was speaking more to the children or to himself. “All is well, I’m back with you. Finally.”

Cas was a little surprised Rone could still talk, given the death grip the younger child had around his neck. The older one, the girl, had her head on his shoulder, enfolded and tucked close by his long, strong arm. She looked over his sparkling golden epaulet at Cas, and the blissful happiness on her face melted away into a hard, angry expression.

Oh, damn. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as Cas had hoped.

Mutable: Chapter Fifteen, Part Two

Notes: Hail hail, the king is here. Next up we meet the kids. Who do you think is going to be the tougher sell for Cas? *hint--I have a child but no king, so I'm sure you can tell which way I'm leaning*

Title: Mutable: Chapter Fifteen, Part Two

***

Chapter Fifteen, Part Two

Cas walked out of the hovercraft and into a place he could never have imagined, a place that the few pictures he’d seen in documentaries didn’t do justice to. It was—the light was—the light was everywhere. Everything around them, from the landing pad the hovercraft had finally settled onto, to the high walls of the walkway, to the vast circular room ahead of them, radiated light. Cas felt like he was going to go blind, and had to use the phage to dial back how much of the display it let register in his eyes. He winced for form’s sake, and Rone squeezed his hand.

“It can be a bit intense at first,” he said apologetically. “But it’s the traditional atmosphere for greeting. The sensors will tone things down once we get into the audience chamber.”

Feeling like you’re standing in the center of a star is the traditional atmosphere for friendliness? What do you do when you hate someone? The complaint was on the tip of his tongue, but Cas bit it back. There was no way he’d let anything but appreciation out of his mouth while Lord Freyne was around, not to mention the who-knew-how-many other Imperians with enhanced hearing or surveillance devices not visible .

“Speaking of getting to the audience chamber,” Lord Freyne said drily. “I suggest your husband save his gawking and get moving. You wouldn’t want to keep the king waiting, after all.”

“When my brother brought Tiyana here for the first time, she spent a full ten minutes standing around with her mouth open. I think he’ll be understanding, given the circumstances.”

“No, it’s all right,” Cas said quickly. He didn’t want to prolong the eyestrain any more than necessary. “Let’s go.”

Rone led the way, just slightly ahead of Cas, almost like he was shielding him. Cas wasn’t sure what he might be shielding him from until he heard the voices beyond the walkway, on the other side of the brilliant, burning light. They were being watched right now, observed like bugs in a glass, or prisoners behind bars. So there were watchers. This was probably prime theater for them.

Rone had to know about this. He probably hadn’t told Cas because he didn’t want to increase his self-consciousness, but it helped to be aware. He stood tall and kept up with his husband all the way down the walkway, until they entered the audience chamber and walked up to the throne in the center of it. Throne—that was what these ridiculously large, ornate chairs were called, wasn’t it? This one was fairly low to the ground, making the king appear to be lounging in it, the way his legs stuck out. Or perhaps he was simply too tall for it? He was a massive man, easily Rone’s height or more, and wider through the chest—or perhaps that was more about disguising the bulk around his waist. He gleamed in shades of red and gold from head to toe, heavy with fine cloth and rubies the size of Cas’s eyeball.

They got to the dais, where Rone stopped and bowed low. Cas bowed with him, and behind him he heard the rest of their entourage do the same. “Greetings from your lowly servants, honored majesty,” Rone said.

“And to you, brother. Welcome back from the darkness into the light.” That seemed to mark the end of the rote responses, because a moment later the king said, “Now get up here and explain what you’re doing married, of all things. I thought I sent you on a damn mission of mercy, not a couple’s retreat.”

Rone laughed, and it sounded genuine, but Cas was immediately on edge. He could hear things in this man’s voice, his tone, see it in the way he lolled about and waved his hand, and it was strange. Dichotomous. Did this bode well or ill?

It didn’t matter—it was time to be introduced.

“You’ve known about Beren for the last week, don’t pretend to be surprised now,” Rone scolded his brother lightly as they ascended the dais to meet with him face to face.

“Knowing is one thing, seeing is another.” King Amiru got to his feet, and—yeah, the man was tall, about an inch taller than Rone. Goodness. “And you wouldn’t even send me a picture of the young man. I had to rely on other sources to get me that intelligence.”

Interesting turn of phrase. Cas made sure to smile shyly when Amiru focused on him.

“Welcome to Imperia, little brother.” Amiru’s tone was friendly and informal—perhaps too informal, given the setting. Was it an open sign of disrespect? Ugh, why were there so many useless social conventions associated with Imperians?

“Thank you, your majesty,” Cas replied, keeping the title in there—it was one thing for the king to call him brother, quite another for him to respond in kind.

“You must be quite something, for Rone to have latched onto you so quickly.”

Like a parasite. Cas fought down a sudden urge to laugh. “He’s been very good to me.”

“Hmm.” Dark eyes roved over Cas like knives, as though they could peel away his secrets along with his skin. “You were attacked back on Leelinge, weren’t you? Some sort of animal?”

What was this all about. Was he delving for more, or just making small talk that his court would find titillating? “I was, but Rone killed it before it could damage me.”

Cas knew he wasn’t imagining it when he saw the king’s breathing pause for a moment, and felt Rone’s matching burst of tension through his arm. What had he said? What was wrong with acknowledging the truth—pretty much the only truth he’d told so far?

“How heroic,” King Amiru said at last. “I look forward to hearing more about this daring from the source itself, but for now we have a family dinner to attend. My children can’t wait to see their uncle again, and of course—” he turned back to his brother “—your own children are anxious to have you back.”

“They’re already in the palace?” Rone’s tension ratcheted higher. “Who’s with them?”

“My wife picked them up this morning, brother, relax.” Amiru clapped Rone’s shoulder. “You worry too much.”

He clearly had a reason to be worried. Cas was determined to run down exactly why, because if childcare was going to be on his list of duties then he was damn well going to be prepared.

“Dinner first, more conversation later. Freyne, you come as well.”

“Delighted, cousin.” His voice was heavily sarcastic, but the king just laughed.

“I’m sure you are.” He looked pleased with himself. “It’s going to be fun having you back, Rone. I can already tell.” He glanced at Cas, then back at Freyne. “Amusements of all sorts are presenting themselves.”

Cas sighed internally. To quote the idiot behind him: Delighted.

Oh well. At least he was about to meet Rone’s children. That charm offensive was more important to him than amusing or impressing a cryptic king. The more invisible he was to Amiru, the better for him.

The more appreciated he was by the children, the better for everyone. And how hard could a child be to win over?