Cyrus hesitated. “He remains in the dungeon, where he will stay until he expires.”
“I see,” she said again. “This is his punishment for defying you?”
“This is his punishment for kidnapping my people and causing grievous bodily harm to them.” Cyrus studied her cool eyes, and he saw no hint of reaction at his accusation. “But you knew what he did, didn’t you?”
Her eyes didn’t even widen. “I didn’t know that he did that, but I know my husband.” She took a long, slow sip of the spiced rum in her cup, her eyes downcast, but when the glass left her lips, her eyes rose and met Cyrus’s. “If it is as you say, and he is not long for this world, then even with the crimes he has committed, I would plead to you for leniency and ask you to allow him to die in comfort, in a bed, down in the village.”
Cyrus took a sip of the rum and felt it burn all the way down. “Not here, in his own bed?”
The Baroness stiffened. “I would not presume to tell you what to do with this castle now that you have taken it.”
“Your husband did terrible things,” Cyrus said. “I am not inclined to let him free in his last hours.”
The Baroness set her glass down and took a step closer to Cyrus, still separated from her by the cloth of her skirts. “I ask you not for clemency, sir, but leniency. If he is to die, then I suspect he is in pain. Am I wrong to want to lessen it?”
“Not wrong,” Cyrus said, taking another sip, a longer one this time. “But what he did-”
“Was cruel and capricious, I’ll grant you,” the Baroness said. “But I appeal to you for mercy-you, who are now master of his house by conquest.”
“I’m not master of his anything,” Cyrus said. “We’ll be leaving in the morning on our way to Galbadien, where we were headed before your husband provoked me into this wasteful action. The things we take from your keep are only recompense for what we lost here.” He hesitated. “The rest will be burned.”
“Sir Cyrus, perhaps you do not understand the full weight of what becomes yours,” the Baroness said, leaning closer to him.
“It’s actually ‘Lord Cyrus of Perdamun,’ if you want to be formal,” he said, feeling a slight blush in his cheeks from the rum. It was good, and he seldom drank spirits or wine. “‘Cyrus’ is also fine.” He turned his head to the side and downed the rest of his glass as she leaned her body against him. “I’m afraid you do me no service, madam. I am leaving on the morrow. I have no desire to enter into a protracted battle with your King. I have business in Galbadien, business with Syloreas and its army, and all that I have here is concluded.”
“When my husband dies,” she whispered, “I am no longer a Baroness, no longer of the House Hoygraf. I will be a fallen woman, from a fallen dynasty, and subject to beg on the streets for whatever scraps of food I might get, or be taken up as wife by some charitable stranger, but as the wife of the dead Baron Hoygraf I am sullied, impure, undesirable.”
Cyrus stared down at her, felt the blood run hot in his veins.
“Do you have a wife back in your homeland? Or someone you are promised to?” Her other hand came up and stroked the stubble at his cheek.
“No,” Cyrus said, sensing danger before him, “but neither does that mean I feel that just because I defeat a man in battle, I can take his wife as though she were chattel.”
Her hand slid around the back of his neck and drew him closer to her. “Even if she were to be content-nay, happy-with such a pairing?”
Cyrus slid his hands up and gently took hers from around his neck. “Not even then. Madam, I am sorry for your loss-though your husband is not yet dead-but I cannot accept. Where I come from, women are not property to be exchanged along with gemstones and animals when a man’s keep is conquered.”
She seemed to crumple in his sight. “Here they are nothing but-and without your aid, I am not only property but worthless property.”
“I am truly sorry for that,” Cyrus said, inching away from her. “If you wish, you may come with our army under my protection-but not as my woman or any such thing of that sort.”
She bristled. “As a harlot? A traveling woman, there for the pleasure of your men?”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “No, we don’t have any of those. You’d accompany us as a free woman, whose rights and person are inviolate. Any such offense against said person would result in grievous penalties. When we return to Arkaria, you are welcome to make your own way in our society, which I suspect you’ll find to be slightly more … favorable. If not, then I wish you the best of success here in Luukessia. Regardless,” he said, feeling the regret seep through him, “I will allow you to take your husband back to the village if you’d like, to die in a bed.”
“Thank you,” she said, ashen. “But in all honesty, my husband is a monster, an inhuman beast with appetites as copious as they are revolting. His death in a dungeon is a fitting end for the atrocities he has perpetrated on others …” her lip quivered, “… and myself. I came to you because I am a woman who had much to lose, on the cusp of nothingness, and I wished to see the man who might spare me from it, if he were amenable.”
“I’m afraid I can’t grant you that which you would have of me,” Cyrus said. “I am simply not so cavalier in my choice of marriage partners, and to propose that we wed after ten minutes of conversation is not in my character. The consequences could well be dire for both of us should we be forced to live with each other for the rest of our lives.”
“I assure you that I am a good wife, sir-dutiful, faithful, and true. And in the matter of conjugal relations, I am willing and frequent in-”
“That’s about all I need to hear,” Cyrus said. “I trust in all you say, but believe me-none of it will sway me.” He shook his head. “I apologize, but I must cut our audience short as my day will begin rather early tomorrow. Will you be returning to the village?”
“I suppose,” she said, a strand of hair falling out of place on her head and into her eyes. “I was offered a bed for the night by one of the families down there, and as I have no bed here-” She looked at Cyrus once more, and he saw hope and regret in her.
“If you want to come with us and travel to Arkaria, we’ll be on the road for quite some time, but I can promise you it’s a place where women are not property.” He drew himself up. “You’ll be safe with our army, but it is going to be a long journey.”
“I will consider your offer,” she said. “If you will consider mine.”
“I can’t take advantage of you in that way,” Cyrus said, “and make no mistake, it would be taking advantage. You would be with me because I hold the power to restore you to a modicum of your former station. But I have only the basest desires for a willing slave, which it sounds like you are offering to be.” She started to open her mouth to protest but stopped, falling silent and bowing her head. “My offer remains open, if you want to leave behind the idea that you’ll ever be beholden to a man again. I can see in you a woman who chafes under the bonds of your society.”
She stared off into the distance, and Cyrus realized she was looking around the room one last time. “I thank you for your offer, sir, but Luukessia is my home.” Her green eyes met his, and he saw only coolness in them now. “I bid you well, and since you would not have me stay here, good night.” She curtsied for him, and a few more strands of her hair broke loose from the elaborate bun that she wore atop her head. She picked up her skirts and turned, walking toward the door. He hurried over and opened it for her and she let a stretched, worn smile cross her lips, one that never quite reached her eyes. With a subtle incline of her head toward him in thanks, she left, and he closed the door after her.
Cyrus went through to the bedchamber, alone, and began to take off his armor. Some pieces, like the mailed gloves, had come off frequently. Others, like his breastplate and backplate, felt as though they were stuck on, they had come off so rarely of late. A tub of lukewarm water waited for him in the corner; it had been hot before he had spoken with the Baroness. His underclothes peeled off with some difficulty and he slipped beneath the water, felt the grime wash off his skin. Something else remained, though, some taint or dirt he couldn’t remove no matter how hard he scrubbed.
Chapter 12
