Cassia wished Marcus had given her more time. Her velvet dress was nice enough, with heavy skirts that rippled down in forest green folds. The sleeves were long and tight, the bodice fitted and elegant, but not scandalous.

But she had no crown, the only adornment she'd allowed a small pair of emerald and silver earrings. Her hair was in a braid over the crown of her head, ending in an elegant bun at the nape of her neck.

Symbols had power. With her rich clothes, she was a lady of the court. With a crown, she was a princess of the realm, blooded with power and the immutable right to command.

But she did not have the time to send for one.

After Marcus left, she'd stowed her book beneath a bush covered in bright yellow flowers shaped like stars, not even trusting it to her ladies. They had trailed back into the sunroom after Marcus had left, and Cassia had ordered them to remain there while she saw to a few private matters.

The only one to give her a sharp, knowing glance was Claudia, but none of them dared to question or rebuke her as she strode from the room.

When she arrived at the king's council room, just a floor above the throne room, the doors were closed and flanked by two guards. Quickly, she changed her walk from a commanding stride to a feline stroll, making her hips sway more than usual.

A sultry smile found its way onto her lips and she watched in satisfaction as the guard on the left side of the door let his gaze slide down to her chest. That was the one she angled for.

They both bowed, but the one on the right said, "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the king is unavailable at the moment."

Your lover spends quite a lot of time with the guards.

She gritted her teeth as Marcus' words came back to aid her. Lowering her voice to a purr, she said, "General Julianus sent for me." She batted her eyelashes at the guard on the left. "I've spent a great deal of time studying the Mortanians, you see, and he thought I might have something to offer concerning how to deal with the, ah, issue in Antelium."

The two guards exchanged glances and she knew Marcus had fed her exactly the right words. This was to have been a private council with only those summoned knowing the exact details of why it had been called.

"The general summoned you?" the one on the left said.

"Which general?" the other snapped.

She was fairly certain she'd already named her general.

"Julianus," she said, her voice a touch cooler. "General Calix Julianus." Recognition and admiration flickered in the eyes of the guard she was looking at. She smiled again and lifted her hand about a head and a half taller than she herself was. "About this tall? Dark eyes?" Her smile slipped to something a little more female. "Strong chest to hold up all those medals?"

Now they both smirked and doubt rose up in her for a moment. Had Julianus perhaps... bragged over his bedding of the Heir? She had wanted a few rumors, just enough for doubt to flicker in the eyes of other men who believed they had some sort of right to her. But to think of Julianus...

No. No, Julianus had never struck her as the type to brag over conquest where the bedroom was concerned. He was more the type to keep his private life to himself and offer up clever taunts that served just as well.

She kept that small smile dancing on her lips, even as she stared down the guards. They exchanged glances and the one on the left muttered, "If Julianus sent for her..."

Cassia very nearly held her breath until the one on the right nodded. Her smile turned gracious when they both bowed and apologized for the misunderstanding. They opened the doors for her, the sounds of quarreling men flooding out into the hall.

It took a long time for any of them to notice that she was now standing before the long table they were all arrayed around. Except... three pairs of eyes had fallen on her immediately. One with surprise, one with amusement and the third with self-satisfaction.

Julianus raised a questioning eyebrow as he looked at her, but she just shook her head minutely, her eyes going instead to Marcus. He glanced between her and the general and mouthed, Careful.

Elias stared at her with shock, but mercifully kept his mouth shut. She took a moment to wonder why he was here, considering that Antelium was a river city, not one with a sea port.

By then, the other lords and advisers were beginning to notice the singular female presence among them, and silence was slowly seeping through the room as they stared at her.

Cassia didn't allow herself to quail beneath all of those eyes. Some she met directly, challenging lords and advisers who had more than made their opinions known concerning her suitability for the crown. A few of them looked away; a few of them could barely contain their sneers.

Finally, her eyes fell on the king.

Her father was staring at her like she was some sort of dark beast sent by Torvan himself from the blackest pit of his burning hell.

Lazily, she said, "I did warn you, Father, about sending Malitech."

The king's face turned stony, and his eyes swept along the table, most likely wondering how she had gotten the information. For an uncomfortable moment, his eyes lingered on Marcus, but her brother was simply watching her with a narrow gaze and a sneer curling his beautiful mouth.

Her brother had certainly missed his calling, being born a prince. He would have been extremely successful upon the stage. He wore more faces than Anuth, the god of strategy and deadly games, the shape-shifting consort of Torvan himself.

"How dare you," her father said softly, the words laced with venom. "This is a private council." His attention had returned to her, and the ice in his eyes nearly made her shiver as she remembered that, while he could not kill her, that didn't mean he could not punish her. 

Her eyes flicked to Marcus, then to the rest of the room to cover her slip. Her brother had deep, brutal scars on his back to remind all of the Auralius children what they risked in defying their father—their king.

The gods only demanded her life be preserved, not her skin. Not her flesh, or blood, not even her soul. Merely her life, and she knew she would be wise to remember that more often.

Bowing her head, she said softly, "I beg your forgiveness, Majesty. I merely wish to aid in my brother's safe return. As you undoubtedly know, I have made it a point to study the Mortanians and only seek to benefit the discussion."

A snort rippled through the room and all eyes turned to where Marcus lounged in his chair on the left side of the long table, three down from where the king sat at its head. 

The prince, unruffled as always by the attention, said, "There's hardly anything that needs discussing, Lady Sister." His golden eyes watched her with all the predatory intent of a lion stalking a gazelle. Then he turned that hateful gaze on their father. "I can't see why you bother with a council when the answer is sitting quite literally at this table."

Cassia dared a look at Julianus, whose dark eyes were riveted on the prince. There was a studied, almost forced ease in the set of the general's shoulders—like he already knew what Marcus was going to say when the king gestured for him to continue speaking. She supposed he had been to enough war councils to know when he was about to find himself on a battlefield.

Durus' eyes had left Cassia. He hadn't demanded she leave while Marcus held the attention of the others, and it almost made her smile. Both she and Marcus had bet on the king ignoring her at any given opportunity.

What better way to undermine the Heir than to make her invisible? 

How predictable.

Marcus nodded toward Julianus, that snake's smile playing at his mouth. "No finer general. You said that yourself, Father. I would suggest sending Lord Julianus to lead a contingent of soldiers to Antelium, to regain control of the city and find Prince Malitech."

It was a matter of timing, and Cassia seized the proper moment. She scoffed as soon as her father's gaze slid from Marcus and turned thoughtfully upon the general.

All eyes once again snapped to her. Before her father could demand her silence, she said, "You'd send a war dog where a diplomat is needed?"

Julianus' eyebrow once again arched, but he didn't look particularly offended.

Marcus merely smiled, the expression patient and edged in venom. "Attacking an emissary of the king is an act of war, is it not?"

"Which is exactly why we should send the Third," cut in Lord Nostromus. "They're currently rested and ready on the border of Ventilium. It would be a matter of days for them to march into Mortania, then on to the city."

The lord sat up a little straighter as three pairs of Auralius eyes fell on him. Cassia frowned lightly. Geographically speaking, sending the Third made much more sense than sending Julianus so far north. It would take him at least a week to even reach Antelium, depending on how hard he rode for the capital of Mortania. 

However, a majority of the Third was made up of Nostromus' own men, meaning the glory of the retaking of Antelium would fall at the feet of the lord and his own generals. And she wouldn't disregard some of the nastier stories surrounding the vicious Third. 

Cassia resisted the urge to look at her brother. This was his show and, for better or ill, she simply needed to play her part.

Marcus' glare might have killed a lesser man, and Lord Nostromus had the intelligence to shift uncomfortably under that golden gaze. When the lord finally lowered his eyes to the table, Marcus said, "Is that the message you would like to send, Your Majesty? That it takes the empire an entire legion to deal with a single city? One that has belonged to us for nearly fifty years now?"

If she didn't hate him so, she might have applauded him. 

The king bristled at the implication of weakness, but there was still something reserved in his face when he looked at Julianus. Cassia allowed herself a glance at the general as well, but held her tongue for the moment. He completely ignored her gaze, focused only on the king and the prince. 

Something unpleasant fluttered inside her chest.

"What do you say, General?" Marcus asked with that insufferable half-smile. "Are you capable of retaking the city?"

Julianus gave them a look of glorious boredom. "Give me a company of one hundred men, Prince, and I will return the city to the empire."

Shocked muttering cascaded through the room. Even Cassia and Marcus couldn't hide their surprise at that. One hundred men to take an entire city that was most assuredly crawling with enemy combatants?

The king raised an incredulous eyebrow. Cassia knew she would be pushing at already fragile boundaries, but Marcus was watching her, waiting for her to proceed with their agreement.

"Are you completely mad? Getting yourself slaughtered isn't going to win back the city." Cassia braced her hands on the dark, silky smooth wood of the table and shot the general a look of disgust. He didn't so much as twitch. Then, for good measure, she hissed at Marcus, "And here I was hoping you might possess the wisdom to understand that diplomacy is what's needed here, not more bloodshed."

"Careful, Lady Sister," Marcus hissed back. "That soft heart of yours is showing."

Cassia stood straight, her chin tilted at an imperious angle. She cast a sneer at her brother, who only responded with a delighted baring of his teeth. The other members of the council wisely stayed out of the middle of the fight between royal siblings.

Slowly, still half-sneering at Marcus, she turned cold, unimpressed eyes on Julianus. The general still had that look of utter disdain on his face. Doubt washed through her, turning her stomach.

"Arrogance won't win Mortania for the empire," she said, her voice frigid and disrespectful. From the corner of her eye, she watched her father's hand turn into a white-knuckled fist atop the table. 

She made one more push. "We need the Mortanians to respect us. Their resources are invaluable to the empire and the last thing needed is for some blood-mongering beast to go tearing through their ancestral city, destroying any future peace we might have to utilize those resources." She cast a glare at her brother, then smoothed her expression to look at her father. "It is difficult to plant lands soaked in blood, Majesty. It is even harder to maintain the gold mines when Mortanian raids free entire droves of slaves to join their armies."

It surprised her when Julianus snarled, "Blood makes fields fertile, Princess. And there are always more slaves." His eyes flared hot enough to melt glass. "We don't need them to respect us. Only fear us." He turned that molten gaze on the king. "Is it common practice, Your Majesty, for women to speak in your councils?"

Marcus was watching her too carefully, as was Elias for her to react with any sort of hurt. She merely pinned the general with a stare that had left the egos of many other men bleeding. He leaned back in his seat, smirking at her.

"Tell me then, Your Highness?" Julianus drawled. "If you know better than the men present in this room, tell us why a blood-mongering beast as you call me isn't exactly what is needed here?"

She blinked, caught off guard—mostly because she believed that Julianus was exactly what was needed in Antelium.

He took her momentary silence as an answer and laughed, the sound dismissive and cruel as he stood and inclined his head to the king, then the prince, completely disregarding her. Her breath caught painfully in her throat.

"When you have decided that women have no place in a war council"—the look Julianus gave her made her blood heat with hatred—"I am at your disposal, Majesty. Send me where you will, unless you let your daughter dictate where you spill blood."

Fear went right through her at the look Julianus received from the king. Even Marcus appeared taken aback. But all the king did was say, "That will be all, General. Prepare for a hard ride to Mortania."

Julianus bowed, the gesture deep enough to make the king stop staring at him like he was imagining the general's head on a pike. The king finally dismissed him, and Julianus stalked from the room, his red cloak flowing like a river of blood down to the floor.

Cassia had to struggle to keep her breathing even, struggle to keep nothing more than cool anger on her face as her father dismissed her as well. She bowed, and when she looked up Marcus was watching her, something like dissatisfaction on his face. 

It took every ounce of control she had to walk from the council room, keeping her stride stately. Only when she was well away from the closed doors did she release the furious breath that had been building in her lungs.

She stalked through the halls of the castle, only stopping when she found herself in a dimly lit, ancient hall. The pale stone pillars supporting the ceiling cast half the room in shadow, the other illuminated by arched windows. 

She had gone to the original castle, to one of the few rooms that had survived the one and only time Levitum had been sacked nearly seven hundred years ago by a people who no longer existed. This part of the castle wasn't used any more, except perhaps as a place to meet in private. 

Exactly where Marcus had requested she meet him after the council was over. Benches covered in dusty red velvet that had been eaten by moths in some places were placed on either side of the pillars, and she slowly sank onto one bathed in a pool of sunlight, attempting to compose herself.

Had she really been so mistaken?

She had expected the cruelty from her brother, not from the man currently sharing her bed. And that look he'd given her—like she was nothing more than a silly woman, a plaything, not a being of intelligence. Her hands turned into claws just thinking about it.

"Cassia."

Her eyes flew open at the low voice, and she stared up at Julianus. Blinking once, she looked toward the open doorway, tracing her eyes over the stone floors, wondering how he had managed to move so quietly she hadn't noticed his presence until he was right before her.

She stood abruptly and made to move away from him, but he snatched her wrists, holding her in front of him.

"Cassia," he began.

"Your Highness," she snapped, making him start. Her voice turned icy. "You have no right to address me by my given name, Lord General."

Julianus flinched minutely, his voice hoarse when he said, "Please. Let me explain."

"Explain what?" she said, making sure her voice was obscenely calm. "How you're not really so different from every other man I've met? What a proper fool you've made of me, whispering one thing while you hold me behind closed doors, so easily dismissing me when there are others present."

"I only said what he told me to say," Julianus said, his gaze weighing heavy on her. "Your brother is... persuasive."

"Marcus is many things, none of them very nice," she snarled. "I would not have thought you would be so easily cowed by him. What threats couldn't you manage to brave?"

"Not threats to me, threats to you," he snarled right back. Her eyes went wide when he grabbed her arms and shook her lightly. "You said the only one who would be punished was me if we were discovered. You neglected to mention your father would take the whip to you if he found out how thoroughly you've given yourself to a man you are not even engaged to!"

Silence echoed around them, Julianus keeping her pinned beneath that furious gaze. She opened her mouth, then shut it, unable to decide what she needed to say.

Her confusion turned to utter shock when he gripped her hands and fell to his knees before her, his cloak rippling around him. A shudder of revulsion ran through his body, and she knew he hated what he was doing—hated kneeling before anyone, royal or no.

But he did, and then he said, "I would beg your forgiveness, my lady. For the words I said with my mouth but despised with my heart."

Her mouth turned dry as he pressed his lips to the backs of her hands, begging her pardon for something that had been merely an act. 

Shame welled up within her at how quickly she had dismissed him as the same sort of man as all the others she had known. Even knowing just now that Marcus had been involved, it had been entirely too easy for her to believe the worst of the man before her.

She stared down at his dark head, bent over her hands as he waited for her forgiveness. The set of his shoulders made her think he didn't expect to receive it. Cassia inhaled sharply and Julianus tensed, but she never got the chance to speak.

"And here I was thinking you were getting on your knees for him," Marcus drawled from the arch of the doorway. 

Julianus immediately shot to his feet, a snarl making his face feral, his hand going to the knife in his belt. Cassia's cheeks burned with a flush as Marcus leered at her, then turned that same gaze on the general. Slowly, he prowled forward and Cassia put a hand on Julianus' shoulder to keep him from doing anything too rash.

They both stood perfectly still as Marcus circled them. Cassia hissed as her brother's gaze lingered on the general's broad shoulders, his mouth. Marcus' eyes flicked to her, amusement kindling in their depths.

"So territorial, sister," he purred, turning that hungry gaze on the general again. "Won't you share?"

While it was fairly common knowledge that the prince preferred both men and women in his bed, Cassia had never seen him on the hunt before. He was usually more discreet about who he was bedding, or even who he wanted.

Julianus just shifted closer to Cassia, his cold gaze meeting Marcus' fiery one. The prince grinned, then turned his attention to Cassia. The tension didn't leave Julianus, though it seemed improbable that it was because the general had never been approached by a man before—even if he only preferred women. 

She suspected it had more to do with the prince himself, not the proposition.

Marcus swept into an elegant bow, then stood, raking a hand through his short hair. "Quite a performance, wouldn't you say, General?"

Julianus stayed silent, though his eyes never left the prince. His hand grazed Cassia's elbow, like he wanted to snatch her away from her brother. Marcus clasped his hands behind his back and paced away from them, still smiling that absurdly pleased smile.

"After I left?" Cassia asked hoarsely.

"What do you think?" Marcus replied. "Father ordered Lord Vetus to rally a hundred of his men from the Third, all to be put at our esteemed general's command. He leaves in three days and shall meet them on the border between Ventilium and Mortania."

"What game are you playing?" Julianus finally hissed. "That other lord was right—sending the Third would be a swifter course of action. What was the point of all this?"

It did not surprise Cassia that Marcus had not felt the need to share his plans with the general. It was much more the prince's style to force obedience and leave everyone else in the dark whenever he could.

Marcus gave him a half-smile. "Maybe my sister will tell you after she's had your head between her legs." The smile turned nasty as he looked at her. "Do you let him mount you whenever he wishes like a common whore? Or do you make him get on his knees and beg?"

She couldn't even take in a shocked breath before Julianus lunged forward. Her very heart went still when the general hit Marcus, sending the prince stumbling backwards.

Julianus snarled and there was a flick of silver that sent Cassia careening between the two men. The general slammed into her back and attempted to throw her out of the way, but she grabbed his wrist. 

"Stop," she ordered, throwing every ounce of command she had into the single word.

She could feel the hatred radiating off of Julianus where he stood pressed up against her back. But he did not lunge for the prince again.

Marcus crowed a laugh, twirling the dagger he now held in his hands, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were overbright when he said, "Savage indeed. I must admit I'm rather jealous of you, sister, thinking he's what's in your bed."

"Leave," Cassia hissed. "You've gotten what you wanted. Now leave."

The prince gave them another dramatic bow, his tongue briefly flicking over the split in his lip.

"Go," she snarled, regretting having ever entertained the thought that he might have been an ally. Marcus gave her a lazy smirk and made to leave, but she said, "Wait."

The prince turned, raising a neat eyebrow.

"If you threaten him, if you so much as look at him wrong, Father will know who told me about that meeting," she said, her voice stone-steady. "Do not test me, Marcus. Leave the general out of your games."

He smiled thinly, more blood trickling down his chin as the skin of his lip stretched. "Of course," he purred.

Then he was gone, prowling from the room like a lion given human form. She let out a shuddering breath, and turned to Julianus, who had gone pale. Slowly, he looked down at his hand, studying the smear of red blood on the first knuckle of his index finger.

Cassia used the dark sleeve of her dress to scrub away the evidence. Fiercely, she said, "Marcus won't say a word. He doesn't fear much, but he is wary of the wrath from my father's whip."

Julianus studied her for a moment, then shuddered, scrubbing a hand down his face. When he again met her eyes, he rasped, "I would have killed him for speaking to you like that."

There was no reply readily available. She didn't know what Marcus gained from getting under the general's skin like that, which bothered her more than the words themselves had.

Julianus gently touched her cheek, still looking furious on her behalf, and she gave him a soft smile. "I've never had someone defend my honor before," she whispered. 

"Have you ever needed someone to?" he asked incredulously.

Now she laughed outright. "No, I suppose not. The general consensus leans more toward whispers of being a cold-hearted bitch, rather than a whore."

His already dark eyes darkened further with promised death for those people who had spoken so poorly of her, and she put her hand against his cheek. "It doesn't bother me, my lord. They may say what they like."

That death-gaze softened and he leaned forward brushing a kiss onto the corner of her mouth. "You never did answer me, Your Highness."

"Yes I forgive you," she breathed as his hands drifted from her waist to graze her breasts. "I am sorry I thought so poorly of you."

"You've no reason to expect the best of people," he said. He snorted, then kissed her more deeply. Cassia moaned low in her throat when he gently pressed her up against one of the columns.

She wrapped herself around the general, everything Marcus had said flowing away on a tide of pleasure as she parted her lips. Julianus' tongue swept against hers, his hands sliding down to clutch at her hips.

"You leave in three days," she murmured when his mouth went to her neck. "How long do you think you'll be in Antelium?"

Julianus just shrugged. "I won't know until I get there and can assess the situation for myself." He looked up and grinned. "Don't tell me you'll miss me, Your Highness."

She would, but it was easy to just smile and say, "I suppose there are parts of you I'll miss."

He grinned as she brushed a thumb over his lower lip, and she shuddered when he flicked his tongue against the tip of her finger. She let him kiss her one more time before she pulled away, smoothing any wrinkles he had created in her skirt.

"You will tell me," he called as she walked away from him, "what this was all about?"

Cassia paused at the open doorway and looked at him over her shoulder. Then she gave him a short nod. "Tonight, my lord."

Then she left him, diving deeply into thoughts concerning how she could keep her brother's fangs out of her lover's throat.