Age of X01 - Gameboard of the Gods Page 34

  “I’m serious,” he said, studying her face. “She and some of those stupid kids climbed the garden walls. Bad enough for any of them, let alone a Panamanian citizen.”

  He was actually serious, she realized. “Is…is she in jail?”

  “No. She had the astonishing and improbable good luck of being caught and brought home by two prætorians. Two prætorians who are big fans of yours.”

  Mae closed her eyes for a moment. “You can’t be serious. Not Val and Dag.”

  “They drank half my liquor cabinet, you know.” He paused. “Okay, that’s an exaggeration. There’s plenty where that came from.”

  For some reason, it bothered her that Justin had met her friends. There was nothing illicit about it, but it was just something she’d never shared with him. “That’s why you’re here? Do you want me to reimburse you for what they drank?”

  That brought a flicker of a smile to his lips. “No. It was worth it to meet our country’s noble defenders.” He glanced away for a few moments, and when he looked back up, all traces of humor were gone. His dark eyes bored into her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me about Porfirio and that funeral?”

  Mae froze, unable to respond for several seconds. “How do you know about that?” she asked in a low, low voice. But it was a stupid question. Val and Dag had spilled everything because they had no control switch.

  “You should have told me.” There was a surprising desperation in him. “You should’ve told me that you were only with me as a punishment. And that you were in mourning after some ill-fated romance. Fuck, Mae. If I’d known that, I never would have…I don’t know. I would’ve done things a lot differently.”

  The world spun for a moment and then abruptly snapped back into focus. Something exploded in Mae’s chest, and she shot to her feet. “No!” she exclaimed. “You can’t know that. It’s mine. Everything else you’ve clawed out of me. That was the one thing I still had. The part of me you hadn’t figured out with your goddamned ‘amazing’ sleuthing skills. You can’t know everything about me. You have no right!”

  She was surprised to find she was clenching her fists. Even the implant had spun up a little with her agitation. It wasn’t the content that bothered her so much. The story of Porfirio and the funeral was widely known. But in seizing that last piece of her life, it was like Justin had unraveled everything about her. She was open and exposed. There was no escaping, and she suddenly hated him for it.

  Perhaps the only satisfying thing here was his complete and total shock. She didn’t know what he’d expected from her, but this outrage obviously wasn’t it. Finally. Something he hadn’t figured out.

  “Mae…” He faltered. There it was, another rarity: him without a clever response.

  “You think you’re so smart,” she continued. “You think it’s a game—that it’s some right you have—to pry and crack open other people. But you can’t! You can’t do that to people.”

  His face was perfectly still as he processed her words. “I told you before that I can’t help it,” he said finally. “I can’t help seeing the things I do.”

  Mae crossed her arms and stalked away to the kitchen. She opened the bottle of ree he’d left there and, without any formalities, took a long drink before speaking again. “You don’t have to flaunt it.”

  She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want him to see something else in her. Seeing the outside of her body was nothing compared to seeing the inside. Even now, he was probably analyzing her outburst, and she already felt too raw and exposed. If she kept her back to him, maybe she could hide the hole in her that she felt he’d ripped open. The silence that stretched between them was agonizing. When he spoke again, his voice was very, very quiet.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Somehow, she knew he didn’t apologize very often. If ever. That didn’t mean all was right with the world, but she felt the need to acknowledge his words. Slowly, against her better judgment, she turned around and felt the first flush of the ree hitting her, bringing a slight tingling to her limbs.

  “That doesn’t change things,” she said.

  “No,” he agreed. “I can’t take back what I said. Or what I know. I’m sorry.”

  There it was again. She swallowed and forced that calm indifference onto her face. “Nothing to be done. But thanks for the apology.”

  “But it’s not accepted.”

  She threw up her hands. “What do you expect me to say?”

  “I don’t know.” He slumped back. “I meant what I said back in Panama: You’re hard to read. And I don’t know how to deal with that. You’re still that devastatingly beautiful Nordic nine who looks so sad sometimes and is terrified of losing control. I want to understand that. I mean, I guess I kind of do now, but still. I know you think I have no respect for women, but I really wouldn’t have taken advantage of you back then. And when I gave you that asshole line about no second dates, I really wish that—well.” He shook his head. “Forget it.”

  “You didn’t take advantage of me.” Mae took another long drink of ree. “And I’m not in mourning. I mean, I didn’t want him to die. I’m sad for that—I am. But everyone seems to forget I ended things with him. I refused him.”

  “Why did you? From what Dag and Val said, you guys were—” Justin abruptly stopped and looked sheepish. “Sorry. Horatio’s just tactfully reminded me I’m doing it again—pushing you. It’s none of my business.”

  Horatio. The raven that lived inside Justin’s head. She’d almost forgotten about that in the midst of this new drama.

  “What else do they say?” she asked. As the ree continued to work, talking about imaginary ravens didn’t seem that strange.

  “They tell me you’ve already forgotten about the guy who was here.”

  Mae supposed that was true. It also was a conclusion Justin himself might have subconsciously drawn. She sighed.

  “Do you want to know why I have control issues?” she asked. “It’s because people have been trying to control me since birth. Only my dad didn’t, and he’s been gone for years.” Mae wasn’t sure where her next words came from. “I know what else you want to know,” she said. She wanted to believe this admission was ree-driven, but some part of her also needed to let out what was inside. He’d shown discretion with everything else he knew about her, and besides, she kind of had leverage over him. “You want to know how a Nordic nine ended up in the military.”

  His eyes said yes, he very much wanted to know that. “It’s not my business.”

  “It is now. Get comfortable.”

  CHAPTER 25

  HOW MAE GOT HER PURPOSE

  Mae didn’t think of herself as much of a storyteller, but as she stretched back into a chair and began to speak, she found herself forgetting where she was or that Justin was there. The past took over, and memories she tried to keep locked away suddenly burst forth.

  After her father’s death when she was sixteen, she had meekly gone along with her mother’s shift in parenting style. Part of it had just been grief. The rest had been an inability to fight her mother. Mae had dropped canne, as well as her dream to study something sports related in her tertiaries. There was a limited number of subjects a girl of her class could study, and Mae had chosen music, the lesser of the evils. She’d clung to the idea that it might get her a job and some glimmer of independence, but she’d been naïve to think Astrid Koskinen would allow her daughter that kind of life.

  Her mother had planned for Mae’s debut party to take place two days after her tertiary graduation. Mae had been no fool about that part. She understood the point, that her mother wanted to show her off in the hopes of landing her a husband as soon as possible. After all, that was what girls of her class did. Plenty of young men had already trolled around before then, and despite her mother’s opinions on certain ones, Mae had been able to rebuff them all. That, at least, had been a small measure of control, and even if she resented the formalities of her debut, she knew marriage wasn’t so
mething they could force her into.

  There’d been no avoiding the pale pink dress. That was the tradition for all debutantes. Mae’s confidence grew when she got to choose the style: matte satin with a short-sleeved off-the-shoulder neckline and long, slim skirt. She remembered the dress perfectly, just as she did everything else from that night.

  Mae’s mother had been intent on making the debut the social event of the year. She’d bought new furniture and decorations and even hired extra servants to staff the party. She’d also invited every influential Nordic person she could think of and even a few visiting plebeians of importance—like General Gan.

  Mae had played her role to perfection. Putting on a good face, no matter what she felt on the inside, was bred into her: dancing, flitting around, smiling at the congratulations of all her guests. She’d felt like a show horse, or even a mannequin on display, beautifully groomed and meant to be stared at. It had been grating but was all part of the act. And always, always there were men around her. It was as if all the suitors who’d come calling when she was younger had suddenly ganged up together. They asked little about her and mostly spent their time telling her about all that they could offer in material goods.

  When Gan had spoken to her, she’d felt a little intimidated at meeting a plebeian military leader, but her sense of etiquette wouldn’t allow her to show it. He’d given her the usual congratulations and then said something wholly unexpected, triggering a conversation forever etched in her memory.

  “I saw footage of some of your canne de combat matches,” he told her. “You were remarkable. I’m surprised you didn’t compete professionally.”

  No matter her opinions on the matter, Mae wasn’t about to confide her woes to a stranger. “It was a childhood game, sir. I had to grow up and move on to more important things.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything particularly childish about embracing your natural talents. I’m guessing you’re quite the athlete and do well in other pursuits.”

  “When I have the time.” He was the only person who’d spoken to her about such things, and as much as she longed to delve into a discussion about sports, she knew better.

  “What will you do with your time now?” he asked with a small smile. “Get married?”

  “Maybe,” she said automatically. “My tertiary was in music. Maybe I can do something with that.”

  He nodded. “So I heard. A pretty vocation shared by half the girls here, I’m sure. Hardly what I’d expect of such an athletically talented young woman.” The tone of his voice left no doubt about his thoughts on that “pretty vocation,” and Mae suddenly felt humiliated. Still, she kept smiling.

  “I can’t compete professionally anymore, sir. Even if I wanted to.” Which she did. “I’m past my prime to start down that path.”

  “You mentioned earlier that you were moving on to more important things.” There’d been an intensity in his eyes that Mae would see through the rest of their acquaintance over the years. “Maybe you’re past your prime for canne, but you are right in it for the military.”

  For a moment, she thought he was joking, but his face said otherwise. “The military? I…I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. It’s not something someone like me could do.” And by “someone” she meant a patrician woman. Even a male patrician would hesitate to enlist, not if he could live off of family money and drink cocktails on the veranda.

  “It’s exactly what someone like you could do,” he said gravely. “You were made for greatness. It’s written all over you, and there’s no greater thing than serving this country. Have you ever been outside the RUNA, Miss Koskinen? No, of course not. You’ve probably hardly ever left this grant. But I’ll tell you what you’re missing: savagery. If you could see the rest of the world, you’d understand what you have here—and you would want to lay down your life for its glory. We are the last bastion of light left on this planet. You could go far, achieve rank and responsibility far more worthwhile than anything you’d accomplish as a landowner’s wife.”

  His words had left her breathless. Or maybe it had been the light on his face. Whether his motivations were honorable or not, he believed wholeheartedly in what he was saying.

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” she said quietly. “The military is all about following orders. How is that any different from around here?”

  Gan smiled. “Because you choose to follow them. And because they give you purpose. Do you have a purpose, Miss Koskinen?”

  The question sent chills down her spine, but she tried to put on a mask of indifference. “Of course,” she said politely. “But I appreciate your advice. You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.”

  His expression told her she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’ll be sticking around here for another hour or so if you’d like to talk more, then I have to head back to the Gustav. Early flight—otherwise I’d stay longer.”

  “I understand.”

  Someone called her away then, and she murmured a polite farewell. Her heart was racing, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was the glory he’d described. Maybe it was the thought of simply not doing what she’d been raised to do here. Or maybe it was just someone speaking to her candidly for a change. She never bothered to find him, though.

  The night wore on. More smiles, more compliments, more dancing, and more champagne. She felt a headache coming on and slipped away from the party to find a painkiller in the kitchen. Before she could reach it, however, someone caught hold of her arm. She flinched.

  “Mae, come here.”

  Kris Eriksson stood in the doorway to her father’s office, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “What are you doing here?” She was more surprised at someone intruding in the sanctuary of her father’s office than Kris’s soliciting her attention. The Eriksson family were longtime friends of the Koskinens, and Kris was one of her more persistent admirers. She liked him well enough but had never given him anything more than friendly thoughts.

  Glancing around to make sure no one would see her sneaking off with a guy, she followed him into the office and shut the door behind her. “What’s going on?”

  His blue eyes were alight with excitement. “It’s all settled,” he said. “I didn’t think it would happen this quickly. I thought we’d have to wait weeks after tonight. Maybe even months. I knew you’d be getting lots of other offers and didn’t think your mother would take ours so soon.”

  Mae felt as though she were trying to understand a conversation in another language. “What’s all settled?”

  “You and me.” Kris moved close and clasped her hands in his. “Getting married. Our families worked out the details. Your mom’s going to get a partner’s share in our stock, and we can get married within the year.” He put on a mischievous grin that didn’t quite manage to reach his cheeks. The Erikssons were heavily affected by Cain, and Kris had had a number of skin treatments. “I’d rather have it sooner, but I suppose we’ll have to take the time to do a wedding right.”

  A cold lump settled in her stomach. “No one asked me. It can’t be settled. And I wouldn’t—” She hesitated, unable to say that he was no one she’d choose. Not that it really mattered who they’d “settled” on.

  Kris didn’t seem deterred. “I can ask you now.”

  And then, to her complete and total horror, he got down on one knee in her father’s office and produced a ring box from his coat pocket. He opened it up with a flourish, giving her a glimpse of some glittering mess.

  “Maj Erja,” he said, still grinning like they were in on a joke together, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Mae stood there for several agonizing seconds, her mouth agape. Finally, she simply blurted out, “No. I can’t. This isn’t right. Something’s not right.”

  Not waiting for his response, she nearly ripped open the door and tore down the hall to the kitchen. There, her mother was engaged in some kind of altercation with Claudia, Mae’s sister, while their broth
er Cyrus leaned against the wall and looked on with amusement.

  “Mother,” exclaimed Mae. “What in the world is—”

  Her mother held up a hand for silence. “Be quiet. Something important is going on.”

  “More important than you selling me off?”

  The angry expression reserved for Claudia shifted to confusion and then understanding. “Ah, that.”

  Mae felt her eyes widen. “Yes, that! How can this be some kind of afterthought? We’re not in some kind of Regency novel where you trade me for a dowry!”

  “So dramatic.” Her mother tsked. “You know these kinds of business transactions are made all the time.”

  It was true. Although antiquated by plebeian standards, marital arrangements involving exchanges of goods weren’t uncommon among the castes, especially the upper classes.

  “Yes, but usually the parties involved get asked!”

  “Why? Is there someone else you wanted?”

  “I didn’t want anyone!” Mae told her. “Not yet.”

  “Maj.” Her mother put on what was apparently supposed to be a kindly look, but it came across as condescending to Mae. “You can’t really have thought you were going to flit your days away doing nothing of use, did you? Look at you. You are our last, best hope to turn this family around. You need to redeem us, save us from the ruin others would see us plummet to.”

  She directed a glare in Claudia’s direction, and that was when Mae got her first solid look at her sister’s face. “Something important” might have been an understatement. Claudia was pale and looked as though she’d been crying. Mae glanced between them uneasily.

  “What…what’s happening?” she asked.

  “What’s happening,” their mother said, “is that your sister is a slut.”

  Claudia’s white face turned red. “That’s not true! It’s not my fault!”

  “Really? Someone else was whoring herself out?”

  “It wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me keep my implant!” Claudia cried.