She was going to be sick. She was going to spew the contents of her stomach over the next man who grabbed her, or possibly across the floor. Cassia pressed her lips together hard, fighting the nausea brought on by the gripping, stabbing pain in her abdomen. 

Her cycle had always been a vicious, miserable thing, month after month. But here, swamped by the smell of sweat and fish, constantly on her feet and with no one to bring her a cup of hot mint tea, it was truly terrible. 

She tried to keep her breathing even and her face pleasantly blank as she wended her way through the evening crowd toward the bar. She ignored her rising temper as stray hands brushed against her legs, her backside, her hips.

Two weeks had passed since she had first arrived at the Raven's Well, and it had been perhaps one of the worst—if most educational—experiences of her life. She had taken Corax up on his offer. Mostly because she had no other options.

It was harder work than she'd realized. The servants and slaves at the palace had always made it look so effortless.

She knew better now.

Cassia finally broke free of the crowd, panting as she flicked her heavy braid over her shoulder. Felix gave her a sympathetic look before pointing to a tray laden with yet more stew, bread and hard cheese waiting for her. For a moment, she simply stared at it, contemplating how much it would cost her to dump the entire thing across the floor.

A prickle across the skin of her neck made her look toward the dark corner in the back of the room where Corax held court most nights. His face was cast in wavering shadow, but she could sense the hard look he was giving her.

She bared her teeth, hissing, and the corner of his mouth quirked up before he returned his attention to the merchant seated before him. Cassia muttered several things under her breath, none of them kind. Then she heaved a great sigh, wincing as another cramp scraped its clawed hands through her guts.

Grunting under the weight of the tray, she hefted it up from the bar. Felix pointed to a table across the room, opposite Corax's little niche. Cassia had to convince herself for the thousandth time that this would all be worth it. Once Corax got her on a blasted ship, that was.

After a disastrous first four days filled with upset trays, irate customers and a frustrated Corax, Cassia had learned a little of the rhythms of the inn's main room. She could now move fairly quickly through the crowd, but she still had to consider each step when carrying a tray.

She plastered an idiotic smile on her face, knowing the stupid expression would irritate Corax as she made it to the table and set the bowls of stew before the five men sitting there. As she set the loaf of dense, black bread down, the nearest man yanked her down into his lap.

The tray crashed to the ground and Cassia sat, stunned. No one had done anything this bold since Corax had made such a scene with the last group who had molested her. Glancing touches, yes. Whispered propositions, of course. But not anything so assaulting. 

His hot breath brushed her ear as he murmured something about finding a more private place. Then his hands were groping between her legs, and her temper shattered.

Cassia yowled like a doused cat. She twisted in his arms, clawing and pummeling every inch she could reach. The man shouted in surprise, struggling to gain his feet. Cassia was dumped onto the floor. She whirled, vision glazed red with fury as she lunged again.

A hard arm looped around her waist. "Enough!" Corax snarled in her ear, making her go still.

The inn had gone eerily quiet, everyone waiting to see what Corax would do to the fool brave or stupid enough to touch one of Viloria's girls.

Not releasing his hold, Corax spoke to the man. "You, I've never seen before. So I'll graciously overlook your stupidity this once. I realize she is rather tempting, but these girls aren't for you." Cassia was whipped around. "You, I'll deal with in a moment. Upstairs."

Her mouth went dry, an image of blood-soaked floorboards rising up in her mind. She hesitated and Corax shook her, hard enough to make her teeth rattle. "Upstairs. Now."

As soon as he let her go, Cassia skittered away from him. She let her gaze shift back and forth between the two men, then darted through the first hole in the crowd that presented itself. Over her racing heart, she heard Corax give the men a warning, then offer to buy them a round of drinks in compensation for her rash behavior.

She nearly flew up the stairs, striding down to Corax's room. She knew the false Viloria was currently in the office, meeting with a captain trying to smuggle Emulsian glass into the city. Corax's room was the only place she could think to wait.

Her knuckles ached as she curled her hands into fists. She flung open the door, slamming it behind her before collapsing into one of the chairs around the table. Burying her face in her hands, she took several deep breaths.

Cassia was horrified when tears stung her eyes. She squeezed them shut, forcing the tears back. Wrapping her arms around herself, she slumped forward, trying to calm down. One minute dragged by, and then another.

He was going to make her wait. He was going to make her sit and ponder all the ways he could punish her indiscretion. She wasn't sorry for fighting back, but she should have let Corax handle it, as he always did. That was how he preferred it. And he was not someone to cross.

Not yet, anyway.

Strength, she begged. Grace and courage.

Anything that would get her through this. Anything that would keep Corax from tossing her out into the world.

She closed her eyes, praying for what felt like hours.

The heavy tread of boots sounded in the hall and she jerked herself upright, throwing her shoulders back and tilting her chin to a haughty angle. She would not be afraid. She would perhaps be contrite. She would do whatever needed to be done.

A jolt ran up her spine when the door flung open. Corax all but flew across the room, taking her arm in an iron grip as he hauled her to her feet. Before she could become afraid of what he was about to do, he said, "Don't speak. Don't move. Don't make a single, bloody sound."

Instead of dragging her toward the bed or the fire or anything more sinister, he yanked her to the corner of the room that held a tiny closet. With no explanation, he stuffed her in among the coats and boots. His verdigris eyes were grim as he closed the door in her face.

But he didn't shut it all the way.

"I know you'll want to see," he whispered, moving back toward the table. "Better this than you doing something foolish that draws his attention."

That sent ice shivering through her veins. Cassia held still, hardly daring to breathe as Corax settled into the chair nearest the fire, the table between him and the door. He pulled a sheaf of parchment toward him, picking up a quill. Dipping it in an inkwell, he scribbled several lines.

Foreboding breathed down the back of Cassia's neck as she witnessed his little play. Her mind raced, trying to riddle out his actions. A soft knock on the door nearly made her jump.

Corax sighed, dropping the quill. "Enter."

The door swung open, but Cassia couldn't see who it was. All she could do was watch as Corax's eyes narrowed before a slow smile spread across his lips. The scar down his cheek crinkled, the ridge of white tissue seeming to almost glow in the firelight.

"My, my," he said, his voice cool. "Slumming it again, are we?"

A purr of a laugh come from the direction of the door and Cassia held her breath. A cloaked figure stepped forward, pulling their hood down as they moved.

Chocolate-brown hair was revealed as Marcus removed his cloak, draping it over the back of the other chair before he sat. With an elegant tilt of his head, he glanced at the parchment on the table between them. Then he sat back in his chair, a slight smile curling his mouth.

Cassia didn't dare to move, terrified he would hear something. Her heart slammed in her ribcage and she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. It should have been impossible. How was he here, of all places?

He couldn't possibly... The thought trailed off, an icy tendril of fear sliding up her spine before it wrapped around her heart. Where Marcus was concerned, impossible tended to really mean improbable. He had always known more than he should. 

She closed her eyes, afraid he would somehow sense her watching him. They opened again as soon as the prince spoke.

"I like it here," he said, waving an airy hand. "It feels so very much like a place I shouldn't be."

Corax nodded to someone still in the doorway. "Bring our visitor something to refresh himself."

A murmur of assent floated through the air before the click of a lock signaled they were alone. Tension thrummed through every muscle in Cassia's body as she stared at her brother.

What in Corlana's name was he doing here? She blinked rapidly several times. What did Corax mean again?

Silence hung between the two. Then Corax smiled. A private, wicked sort of smile she hadn't seen before. "Are you going to play coy, Prince? Is that the game you would like tonight?"

"Oh," Marcus mused, "I don't come here to play games. Never with you, dearest Caius." 

A gasp very nearly made it past her lips as Marcus used his true name. It startled her even more when Corax laughed, the sound low and sultry.

"If you do not want a game, then what is it you desire?"

An uncomfortable realization began to pluck at Cassia's mind, making her wish Corax had tossed her from a window rather than trapped her in the closet. She closed her eyes, praying hard again before Marcus' voice made them pop open.

"The only thing I've ever truly desired," he said softly. 

Another knock sounded on the door. Marcus turned away, hiding his face in the shadows. Corax stood and went to the door, retrieving whatever had been brought. He gave a few muttered instructions, then the door shut.

Balancing a tray carrying two crystal goblets and a bottle of wine, Corax returned to the table. Marcus watched each graceful movement as he poured, then accepted a glass. He took a small sip as Corax returned to his seat.

He frowned, fingers tapping on the table as he picked up the thread of their conversation. "What is it you want to know about this time, Prince? My people haven't seen any of those bodies."

Bodies? Cassia resisted the urge to voice the question. She could get answers from Corax later. It was more important at the moment to keep her presence hidden from her brother.

"Not that." Marcus waved a dismissive hand. "That has been...addressed. I suppose."

It was rather fascinating to watch, the dance between these two. Cassia genuinely didn't know who would gain the upper hand. Both wore flawless masks, edged in amusement and hunger. Each waited for the other to stumble.

Corax stood and walked around the table, leaning against its edge as he stared down at the prince. She didn't know if he was trying to use his size to intimidate Marcus into speaking first. Cassia wasn't entirely sure her brother could actually be intimidated.

The stand-off continued for another moment.

Then Marcus was on his feet, hand flashing out to grasp Corax's chin, turning his face more toward the light. Cassia held her breath, fully expecting blood to spray. But Corax just went still, eyes glowing like blue fire.

Marcus brushed his thumb over Corax's lip. "And what happened here?" he whispered as he touched the nearly healed split lip Corax was still sporting. 

His eyes didn't so much as flicker in her direction. He pulled from the prince's grasp, a smirk dancing at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing interesting."

"I think, perhaps, you and I have differing definitions of interesting," Marcus said, once more lifting his hand to touch Corax's mouth. Cassia watched in a sort of horrified fascination as Corax let him.

All the while, a litany of prayer was flowing through her mind, begging the gods to have mercy on her.

With a long sigh, Corax knocked Marcus' hand away. He cocked his head, eyeing the prince shrewdly. "What is it you want? I'm a little busy."

"Are you?" Marcus gave a hum of delight, the sound making Cassia shiver. "Very well, Caius." He sank back into the chair, head tilted. "What do you know of the Fifth Legion's whereabouts?"

Cassia again stopped breathing. She remembered what Julianus had told her—that the food and medicine requisitions did not seem to match the Fifth's reported location. Why would Marcus be poking around for information about the Fifth? 

She nearly scoffed at herself. When didn't Marcus seek out information?

Raising an eyebrow, Corax leaned back against the table again. "What do you care about the Fifth? I thought the Third was your pet?"

Marcus shifted in his chair, like he could feel an echo of pain from the scars across his back. "The Fifth seems to have been misplaced," he replied, his voice dipping into something chilly. "Reports lie. Grain shipments do not."

"And...what? You think I would know something about it?" Corax's voice was bored, nearly rude. Cassia began to wonder if it would be his blood spilled across the floorboards this time. 

Between the two, she wasn't entirely sure who would be the better swordsman. 

Marcus let his gaze drift to the fire, his golden eyes unfocused. He didn't respond for an uncomfortably long time, but Corax didn't appear fazed by the silence. Then, Marcus barked out a sharp laugh, turning those keen eyes on Corax. He smiled, the expression trimmed in venom and desire. "What will this cost me, Caius?"

"A favor. What does it ever cost you?"

"One of these days, I expect you to demand my soul." Marcus snickered. "What little there is of it, for what very little it would be worth."

It surprised Cassia, the small well of pity that sprang up in her chest. For all the confidence he projected, she had always suspected something inside of him was very broken. Though what had broken it, she had no idea.

Corax sneered, obviously unburdened by any such feeling. "I'm not one of Torvan's hellions. I have no use for your soul."

A nod of agreement was all the reply Marcus offered. His eyes once more drifted toward the fire. He rubbed at the inside of his forearm, his fingers flexing. "I know you know something. Or you will know something."

Corax waited for a long moment, then sighed, shoulders slumping wearily. "I can ask around, some. But I promise nothing."

"I have no use for promises. Only results." Marcus stood, donning his cloak.

Cassia sagged a little in relief. Silently, she begged him to just leave so she could take a full breath again.

"If there are any to be had, you'll have them."

Marcus turned toward the other man, that wicked little smirk on his face. "You've yet to disappoint me, Caius." He stretched out a hand, lightly cupping Corax's jaw again. "Why would you disappoint me this time?"

The threat hung in the air for the briefest of moments before Marcus leaned forward, kissing the other man with a ferocity Cassia hadn't expected. Corax hissed in surprise before he buried his fingers in Marcus' hair, retaliating by pressing the prince back against the table.

Cassia looked down, staring very hard at a wine stain on her skirt. She resisted the urge to cover her ears, afraid the movement would tip Marcus off to her presence. The table legs screeched as they dragged across the floor, making her flinch.

She wouldn't—couldn't—stay if anything more happened. She was feeling sick enough as it was. Marcus be damned, she would burst from her hiding place and quit the entire inn if they made a move toward that bed.

After an interminable stretch of time they broke apart, both breathing hard.

"Always a pleasure, Caius," Marcus rasped before he tugged his hood over his head and left.

Cassia listened as the sound of his boots faded down the hall. When she could no longer hear him, she collapsed to her knees. Her pulse pounded in her temples, cold sweat beading her brow as the full extent of the danger she had been in crashed over her.

Marcus didn't have to kill her to prevent her from succeeding in her trials.

Light spilled over her as Corax opened the door to the closet. Cassia stared up at him, unsure of what happened now. She had known him as a friend of Julianus. Had trusted him—however minimally—for that fact.

Learning that he was Marcus'...whatever of Marcus' he was, she didn't know if she even held that modicum of trust any more. 

What was to stop him from selling her to her brother? Was Marcus the only brother he dealt with?

"I can't decide if that was simply unfortunate, or superbly well timed," Corax finally said, his rough voice made even rougher. He extended his hand toward her.

After a moment, Cassia accepted it, letting him pull her up. He guided her over to the table, placing his own, full goblet in front of her. Cassia snatched it up, taking a large gulp before she could force herself to look at Corax.

Blood glinted ruby-bright on the corner of his mouth. Marcus must have bitten his already split lip.

Her stomach lurched at the thought of her brother's exploits. She took another, more sedate sip of the wine, trying to arrange her scrambling thoughts into something useful.

Questions. She had questions.

"You know my brother?" was the first thing to come out of her mouth, making her cringe.

Corax threw himself into the empty chair, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. A soft snort came from him before he gave her a terse nod. "You're not the only clever one in your family, kitten. The prince has a keen nose for information. And..." It was the first time she had seen him hesitate. "He perhaps saved my neck, once upon a time."

Her curiosity begged her to ask for that story, but her common sense required she ask more important questions. After a moment, she let her common sense prevail.

"He has come here before?" she began slowly.

"Yes."

"Asking about the...bodies coming from Brunia?"

"Among other things."

"How did he know to come to you?"

Corax lifted an offended eyebrow. "Nothing goes on at this port that I don't know about. That's why he comes here."

"Is that the only reason?" she asked, then pressed her lips together, a blush burning her cheeks.

A sigh lifted his chest as he gave her a thoughtful glance. "You seem surprised."

The memories of how his eyes had roamed over her body, how his mouth had brushed across her own, the numerous times he had staked a sort of claim on her drifted through her mind. Cassia swallowed, fingers playing with the stem of her glass. "I had just thought..."

"I preferred women?" Corax snorted. "That's by design, kitten. Old habits die hard."

Cassia bit her lip, averting her eyes. He was talking about the law that banned one man from loving another in the military. Now she was unsure what to say. Who Corax took to bed hardly affected her.

Unless, of course, that person was her brother.

"Why didn't you tell him I was here?" she asked. "My brother would have likely paid handsomely for such information."

Corax flashed her a grin. "He didn't ask about his sister."

That was hardly a comfort. "My brother is not to be trusted," she said. "Whatever favor you would extract, it won't be worth the sting in the tail that will accompany it."

Corax stared at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. Resisting the urge to shift in her seat, she took another sip of wine.

"Do you know what the name Corax means?" The question puzzled her. It didn't seem to relate to anything she had just said. Before she had the chance to consider the question, he continued, "It's ancient Metian. It means raven."

Cassia nodded uncertainly. That explained the inn's name, but not very much else.

"Ravens are clever birds. They remember the people who are kind to them. They're loyal creatures."

"My brother is no raven," Cassia said dryly. "He doesn't care for kindness. The only thing he is loyal to is himself."

"Have you considered, Princess, that perhaps you don't know your brother so well as you think?"

Always. Cassia had never really known her brother. He wore far too many masks for anyone to truly know him. And she sincerely doubted Corax had ever learned anything more than she had in whatever time he had spent with the prince.

"What I know is enough. You'd do better to make a deal with Torvan than to make one with Marcus."

Corax barked a laugh. "Who says I haven't done that already?"

She slumped back in her chair, biting at her lip. Corax dabbed at his mouth once more. Closing her eyes, she scrubbed a hand across her face. Less than a month into her first travel year, and her situation already felt precarious.

"He will come back," she said. "And you might not always be so lucky."

Corax smiled thinly. "Luck is for fools, kitten." The expression slipped as he stood. "All the same, it's probably best that you stay up here for the rest of the evening."

Nodding, Cassia downed the last of her wine. She tapped her nails against the side of the crystal, not meeting his gaze as he rounded the table, heading for the door. 

"Perhaps I'll get you on that ship sooner than later."

"That seems wise," she whispered as he closed the door behind him.