Islands in the Sky

2.8

Cassa’s grandmother was a manipulator, a dream-gifter, a spinner of entangling webs. She worked out what people wanted, and then she gave it to them in a way that benefited her.

She exerted her influence gently. That was the secret of what she did. Her touch was soft, tender, even as she forced people to her will. She only asked what any would give gladly, once they realized that they ought, and she trapped people so gently that they never cared they were trapped. They realized it, if they stopped to think, but by then it was foolish to resist. The benefits of her friendship were obvious, and the price she asked was always less than what any would willingly give.

She gave people what they wanted. That was all she did. She gave people what they truly wanted, but perhaps hadn’t realized yet. She was caring, encouraging. She helped people take their dreams for themselves. She gently pushed them into doing what was in their own best interest, but they were too weak or fearful to do on their own. She encouraged ambitious retainers, and greedy merchants, and frightened minor houses, encouraged them to overcome their lack of bravery or wit or wisdom, and accomplish things on their own. She did it gently, carefully, never pushing so hard any fled, and then their success, when it came, was at her hand, and they were bound to her by greed and ambition and trust and love, and those things made them hers forever.

That was what she did, and all she did, and Cassa was one of the few of her cousins who seemed to understand that. The rest, the murders and power and wealth and politics, all that so impressed bystanders, those were all secondary to the kindness of her grandmother’s traps.

As she walked, Cassa thought.

She thought about her grandmother. She thought about desires and traps and ambitions, and forcing people to do what was best for them, even before they realized it themselves.

She thought, quite suddenly, about the wedding, and everything that was happening today.

She began to wonder.

She wondered if she might have not missed seeing a part of what was going on around her.

Now that she was considering it all carefully, she was becoming rather suspicious. She was beginning to wonder if just such a trap wasn’t being closed on her right now. This manner of wedding seemed odd. It might well be intended to force her into doing something which she really ought to want, but which someone assumed she hadn’t yet realized that she did.

She wondered, and the more she did, the more she thought she was right. This all had the feeling of silky kindness that was usual in her grandmother’s interfering plans.

Now Cassa thought, she was almost certain what was being done, and if so, if it was, then it was all a terrible mistake.

Cassa was secretive, unfortunately. She was one of the few people in the tower as secretive as her grandmother. Everyone probably thought she wished to be wed, but they were wrong, terribly wrong, about her desires. Even her grandmother, who Cassa hid her true desires from, quite deliberately.

Cassa felt awful. She had a terrible feeling she was right. That some misguided desire to help her had led to this day. She wondered if she should just explain, but she knew that wouldn’t help. Her grandmother was well-used to people insisting they didn’t need her help.

Cassa tried to think of a way out of the situation, but she couldn’t, not now. It was all a little too late. She should have thought properly sooner, rather than being clever to the men-at-arms. It was too late to do anything now.

She looked around. She had been walking half-distracted. She glanced around, and realized where they were.

It was really far too late, she saw, to her horror. They had reached the anteroom of her grandmother’s chambers. The two guardsmen with her released her arms, and set her free, but now there were other guards nearby, a lot of other guards. There were always guards here, as a precaution against assassins sent by a rival family, or a disgruntled grandchild, such as Cassa, and these guards were quick, and deft, and knew their business well.

One of them reached out and took Cassa’s dagger from the sheath on her belt, even as she was still thinking. Only then did another guard open the door.

“No,” Cassa said to the guard with her dagger, knowing it was futile, but saying it all the same.

“We must, my lady,” the guardswoman said. “I’m sorry.”

“I need it.”

“It will be returned after the wedding.”

“I suppose there’s no point saying I’d like to keep it?”

“Weapon-master Konstantin told us…”

“Never mind,” Cassa said, and sighed.

She felt like she had been sighing a lot, today.

All these people should give a little more thought to what happened after her grandmother died, Cassa thought. Not that they would, because that was too far from now, and most people never thought more than months ahead, as far as she could tell.

And of course, if she complained, both Konstantin and her grandmother would tell her it was her own fault for being too soft-hearted, that if she’d simply murdered a servant first thing this morning, or murdered the two men-at-arms during the practice, she would not be here now.

She knew that perfectly well, but it didn’t make the situation any less annoying.

She looked around, wondering if she should try and do something, but she decided not to, almost right away. It was obviously too late, now, standing here. There were a dozen or more guards in the hall, all watching her warily, and some were her grandmother’s personal staff, the best the family had.

Even if she was finally willing to start killing people to get her own way, she thought, it was a little too late to start doing so now.

She really didn’t have much choice about seeing her grandmother, and everyone here knew it. They were just giving her time to realize it on her own.

The guard holding the door shifted it a little, so it creaked. The creak sounded almost impatient. Like her grandmother would be impatient.

Cassa sighed again, and then went through the door.