An Affinity For Fire

41. Calio

Another party was the last place Calio wanted to be. If the festivities had been outdoors, it wouldn't have been so bad. A lack of walls would have made her feel slightly less caged. Unfortunately, she was at the top of a mountain, in one of the most northerly inhabited regions in the realm, in the middle of winter. Outside evening festivities were not an option. Still, the Mouth of Dormis was less claustrophobic than the Eye of Aestas. The Dormisian taste for extravagance made for some extraordinarily large rooms. Not to mention the castle wasn't half underground.

After the royal procession, she'd managed to get away with spending the first evening and following morning in her guestroom. Many guests had done the same, taking the time to rest from long, arduous journeys. She would have liked to do the same on the second evening, but with the festivities in full swing, her absence would be noted. As first in the line of succession to the Aestasan thrown, she knew their would be eyes on her. Parents of possible suitors in search of a strategic alliance, royal spies looking out for unusual behaviour. And, as always, her mother, who would never let her live down any signs of weakness.

So she loitered at one of the walls, watching the dancers. Dormisian dances were simple, slow and repetitive, with strict structure. They were an elegant, dignified courting opportunity - nothing like the chaotic, energetic dances of Aestas. Even if she had been in a better mood, she didn't imagine she would have enjoyed getting involved. And who would she dance with, anyway? After what Fitteia had told her about being careful, she wasn't eager to throw herself into the hands of strangers, and there were only two people she knew well who she would ever have considered dancing with. Dallas was Fates knew where, and Kona...

She didn't want to think about Kona.

She slipped a hand under her long, loose sleave, idly rubbing her thumb over the handle of one of the many blades she'd strapped to her body.

"Not dancing?"

Calio tensed at the unanticipated address, grip tightening on her small weapon. When she turned, however, she saw her father. Taking a breath, she removed her hand from her sleave. She had no reason to stab him. No more than usual, at least.

"I don't really feel like dancing right now."

"Right," he said, giving her a sad half-smile.

She'd got a lot from King Fynier. His murky blue eyes. His pale, freckled skin. Even his firey hair, not that anyone would know that by looking. At almost forty, his hair had faded to a coppery blond, with tinges of silver just about beginning to show.

"I really am sorry about... well, you know..."

"Thank you," she muttered, turning her eyes back to the dancers. She clenched her teeth, hoping he would leave her alone. He'd done a good enough job of staying out of her way for nineteen years.

"And Tanari told me something else happened."

Calio's insides tightened. She glared at him.

"She didn't say what, exactly-"

"Good," she interupted. "A paid her quite a lot not to." Not that she'd wanted to. It was a kick to the gut to have to defend the secrecy of three theives. Finding out that Tanari had almost told people anyway was a second kick.

She shouldn't have been surprised, she realised. Not with how 'close' the bodyguard was to her father. Their intimacy was one of the most poorly kept secrets in the Aestasan Court. Calio wondered what such a beautiful, moral woman saw in him. Somehow, her father's affair actually improved her opinion of him.

Fynier frowned. "She only brought it up because she cares about you."

"Well, that's nice to know, given that she is the closest thing to an actual parent that I have." She walked away, ignoring his pained expression. Under different circumstances, she might have felt bad for him. It couldn't have been easy for him to find out what his sister's son had tried to do. But she couldn't bring herself to pity him.