Deadly Games

downthere, or am I going to have to go into aggressive interviewermode?”

“Does an aggressive interview involve threatsand punches?”

“Usually only with prospects that are maleand criminal.” He poured two glasses of wine and handed herone.

“And female criminals?”

“I have to bludgeon them into talking usingmy wit.” He grinned, and she found herself responding in kind.“But,” he went on, “I’m told it’s not-emperor’s warts!” He gaped atsomething on the other side of Amaranthe.

Sicarius stood there, hands clasped behindhis back. Her first thought was that he had been running andstopped by to check and make sure Deret wasn’t up to no good, buthe was freshly shaven and had also combed his hair, though tuftsstill stuck out in spots, a result of him choosing to cut it on hisown…with a knife. He wore his typical fitted black with his shirtneatly tucked in. No red dust from the lakeside running trailsmeared his soft boots. He was as tidy and presentable as ever, ifone ignored the throwing knives adorning his arm.

“Problem?” Amaranthe asked.

Deret had sloshed wine on his arm, and hewiped it while he glowered at their intruder.

“Yes,” Sicarius said.

“Back at camp?” she asked.

“No.”

Amaranthe waited for him to explain hispresence. He simply stood there, watching them. He hadn’t decidedshe needed a bodyguard, or, emperor forbid, a chaperone, hadhe?

“What is the problem?” she asked.

“Besides his presence?” Deret muttered.

“I wish to speak with you,” Sicarius said,ignoring Deret. Wish? Not “will” or “must?” Thatwas…polite for him. Yet, if it wasn’t an emergency, surely itcould wait.

“Now?” she asked, pointedly tilting her headtoward Deret.

Sicarius flicked a dismissive glance towardhim, but said, “I can wait until you finish here.”

He made no move to leave. Did he intend towait right there?

“I didn’t bring enough food for three,” Derettold him.

“I am not hungry.”

Amaranthe never would have consideredSicarius the type to be deliberately obtuse, but he certainlyseemed to fall into that category tonight. She sighed and toldDeret, “I better see what he wants.”

“Aren’t you in charge of the group? Can’t youtell him to run along and sharpen his knives?”

For the first time, Sicarius turned his gazeon Deret, and it was an icy one. Amaranthe did not think he wouldattack someone simply for annoying him-surely, Maldynado would bedead thirty or forty times by now if that were the case-butSicarius might decide Deret represented a threat, and do away withhim the callous way he did away with other threats.

“My wholesome charms don’t work that well onhim,” Amaranthe said, climbing to her feet as she spoke. Best toseparate the two men before Deret sent any more jabs atSicarius.

“You’re coming back, right?” Deret asked.

“Yes,” Amaranthe said at the same time asSicarius said, “No.”

“I’ll be back,” Amaranthe said with a coollook of her own for Sicarius, then she followed as he led the waydown the hill.

The sun had dropped below the horizon, andtwilight darkened the park. Gas lamps glowed, but Sicarius avoidedthe paths they lit, striding across the grass toward the toweringhedges of the Emperor’s Maze. Amaranthe’s heart sped up, and anuncertain flutter of anticipation danced through her gut. If thiswere any other man, she’d assume he was leading her into the hedgemaze for a private tryst, but this was Sicarius. He’d bemore likely to lead her off for a private evening of weaponspractice.

Though her sandals and dress made her gaitslower than usual, he was careful not to outpace her. He wound hisway into the maze. Giggles and low conversations drifted from thealcoves. On such a lovely summer evening, it might be hard to finda private spot anywhere in the park.

They padded down a long aisle of lush grasssurrounded by the smell of freshly watered hedges and flowers, andhe seemed to find a spot he liked. He turned into an alcove with abench and a small fountain tinkling softly.

“Romantic spot,” Amaranthe said. “Are youbringing me here to seduce me?” She kept her tone light, so hewould know she was joking, but that nervous flutter teased herinsides again. What if she wasn’t? Or he wasn’t? Or-erg, she had tostop thinking.

“You’re dressed for it,” Sicarius said,surprising her.

Her first thought was that he was implyingdisapproval at her bare-armed attire-he certainly had beeninsulting about the last dress Maldynado picked out forher-but his tone lacked any sort of edge, and he looked back andnudged her when she drew even with him.

Ah, that was teasing, if one could call itthat. He was quoting her line from the lake.

“You’re not,” she said, quoting his line.

“No?” Sicarius stopped before the bench andexamined his clothing. He smoothed a non-existent wrinkle andbrushed an imaginary fleck of dust from the hilt of one of hisdaggers.

Actually, the black, however unimaginative,did accentuate everything nicely, and he’d have littletrouble stirring a woman’s fantasies in that outfit…or anythingelse. But that was far too honest to admit aloud. “In myexperience,” she said, “seductions usually involve fewerknives.”

“Huh.” Something in that single syllable madeher believe that hadn’t been his experience. She supposedanyone with the guts to proposition him…liked that it took gutsto proposition him and found the blade collection an appealing partof the package.

Sicarius sat on the bench and held a handout, offering her the seat beside him.

Amaranthe ought to tell him to hurry up andsay what he had to say because Deret was waiting on her, but shecouldn’t bring herself to mention him. She didn’t want to go backto Deret, not when she actually had Sicarius in a romantic spot,and he wasn’t discussing work. Well, he wasn’t discussing anythingyet. She didn’t know what to expect. It was bizarre of him even tosit on a bench; usually, he’d nod for her to sit while he remainedstanding and alert, surveying their surroundings as they spoke.

It was not a large bench, and when Amarantheslid onto it, her leg touched his. The tall shrubs must haveprotected the stone seat from the afternoon sun, for its coolnessseeped through her dress. It made her hyperaware of the heat fromSicarius’s thigh.

“You mentioned a problem?” she asked,cringing when her voice cracked. She cleared her throat.

“Yes.”

Someone giggled in another alcove. A smallcreature rustled through the undergrowth beside them.

“And that problem would be…?” Amarantheprompted.

“Your plans to kiss Mancrest.”

Amaranthe bolted up from the bench. Hertongue tangled under the assault of words that flooded into hermouth. Part of her wanted to deny any such thing, and part of herwanted to berate him for eavesdropping. All of her felt like achild caught reaching for a forbidden bag of candies. She hadnothing to be guilty over though. She hadn’t betrayed Sicarius.They had no agreement of fidelity. And besides, she hadn’t said shewas going to kiss Deret. She’d only been in the earliest stages ofthinking maybe he might be someone with whom shecould see having a relationship.

She settled for crossing her arms over herchest and saying, “How long were you skulking about the gardens,spying on us?”

He gazed up at her. The deepening twilighthid the nuances of his features, and she couldn’t tell if anythingother than his usual mask occupied his face. “What do you consider‘long’?”

“A period of time during which a normal,considerate person would feel ashamed for listening in onsomeone else’s conversation.”

Sicarius did not answer.

Amaranthe sighed and dropped her hands. “Whatare you doing out here? Checking up? Do you still believe Deret isa threat to me?”

“No.”