Froi shoved him away, trying to block out the voice in his head that told him to forget his bond and kill this man.
‘Do you know how easy it is to snap the life out of a body?’ Froi asked. ‘Especially one that is broken?’
‘Then do it,’ Gargarin hissed. ‘Or are you as gutless as the rest of Charyn?’
‘Olivier!’ he heard Quintana’s voice outside on the balconette. ‘Olivier, are you in there?’
Froi’s eyes were fixed on Gargarin’s. Deep down he had believed in the boy named Gar who had kept his brother safe all those years. Who had walked four days with no food to bring young Arjuro hope. It was what made Froi want to kill him: the knowledge that Gargarin had sold some part of himself to a darker desire. But Gargarin’s action had nothing to with Lumatere’s safety and Froi knew it was not part of his bond to take this man’s life. Yet Froi wanted to cause pain and he pressed cruel fingers against the dagger wound Gargarin had received from Lirah. His only pleasure was watching the man wince.
‘Olivier!’
‘Your time will come,’ Froi warned.
Quintana stood on her balconette and Froi climbed onto its latticework and leapt, landing at her feet. He saw that her face was flushed with excitement.
‘I’ve been waiting for you all night and day,’ she said.
Froi shivered. He realised that the words came from Quintana the ice maiden. Realised, as he felt his face heating up, that the idea of this Quintana waiting for him with excitement spoke to parts of him he believed to be dormant. And then she winked.
‘Did I do that right?’ she asked. Her smile was lopsided and he saw a glimpse of the teeth.
And Froi imagined that he would follow her to the ends of the earth.
They sat crosslegged on the bed facing each other and she began to deal the cards with a speed and skill that surprised him.
‘I practised,’ she said. ‘I have a good memory for detail.’
He leaned forward, tilting his head to the side, a hand to his ear.
‘Say that again.’
‘I have a good memory for detail,’ she repeated.
‘You do, do you?’ he questioned, mockingly. ‘Not “we”? Not the Reginita? Not the Princess? Not the other? So what name should I use?’
For a moment, he thought he was losing her back to the coldness. She looked away, refusing to say her name, then she began to shuffle.
He was impressed and surprised and, more than anything, he was intrigued. He was growing to enjoy the way her eyes squinted and her mouth twisted as she concentrated hard. Sometimes he heard her murmur, ‘Hmm, yes I know,’ and he wanted to creep inside her head and join in her madness.
She clicked her fingers twice, mimicking one of the card players from that day in the cave dwellings. ‘Where are your coins?’
He choked out a laugh. ‘We’re not playing for coins. You may know how to shuffle, but that doesn’t mean you know how to play.’
She reached over to the trinket pouch on her bedside table and took out the coins she was given in the cave. She placed them before him and began to study her cards.
‘Remember, the same suit is more powerful,’ he explained.
She looked up at him, annoyed. ‘Why would I forget that?’
‘Because you’ve only watched three rounds.’
‘I told you, I have a good head for details. I can tell you the name of every person in this palace and if a new palace appeared and one hundred people were introduced to me, I’d remember their names as well.’
‘Wonderful,’ he murmured. He took his time studying his cards. ‘That should come in handy if you’re ever fighting for your life. And you can sing, as well. Beautiful voice, by the way.’
‘I can play with apples, too,’ she said.
He looked up, confused.
Quintana put her cards down and climbed over him. Decorum was not quite her forte.
She picked up three apples from the plate by his side of the bed and, concentrating hard, she began to toss them in the air with such precision that he wondered for more than the first time what else lay buried inside Quintana of Charyn.
‘Slightly impressive,’ he said, feigning indifference.
‘And you can do better?’
The first skill taught to a boy on the streets of the Sarnak capital was the ability to juggle. He could do it with his eyes shut. He took the apples from her and did just that. When he opened them he caught the last apple in his hand and took a bite. She reached out and he held it away until she straddled him to grab it from his grip. She leaned over him, but with their loins almost joined and the dip in her nightdress revealing a glimpse of round full breasts, Froi’s control over his body failed.
Suddenly she jumped away, staring at him with fury.
‘Well, you can’t climb all over me and expect it to just lie there,’ he said, trying to fight the pain of his arousal.
Quintana watched him carefully. Then she settled back and shuffled the cards, dealing them out as though nothing had happened between them.
‘A good game is a fast game, Froi.’
His head snapped back in shock. ‘What did you call me?’
‘That was the name you gave the dealer.’
He couldn’t explain it to himself. How it felt to hear her speak his name.
Froi dragged his attention back to his cards, annoyed. He didn’t want to feel whatever he was feeling for her. Or for anyone in this castle. He thought of Gargarin in the next chamber and how Lirah’s words had made him sick to the stomach. What was it about Gargarin and the whore and the Priestling and this strange Princess that made him care when he was trained not to?
‘Arjuro says he was never in the palace,’ he murmured, discarding a card and taking another.
‘Well, who are you going to believe? Me or a drunk?’ she asked.
‘You’re not exactly considered the sanest mind in Charyn.’
‘I’m going to win this round so I’d advise you to give in now,’ she said, reaching over for his coins. Froi slapped her hand away.
‘I do understand the concept of bluffing, Quintana.’ He looked at his cards, quite pleased with what he saw.
She sighed and threw in a few more coins.
‘I take great offence at being considered insane,’ she said.
‘There are three of you,’ he reminded her.
Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘Firstly, there are not three of us at all. And what of you? One moment a fighter, next minute an idiot who doesn’t heed warnings that he’s going to lose?’
‘So you’re admitting there’s more than one of you?’ he asked.
‘I’m not admitting anything at all and I’d advise you to show me your cards now.’
‘Show me first,’ he ordered.
She turned her cards and pressed them close to his face and he moved his head back for a better look.
‘I did warn you,’ she said coolly, collecting the coins and placing them in a trinket pouch.
Froi was put out. ‘Would I have won if I played the Reginita?’ he sulked.
‘She’s the one with the better memory,’ Quintana said, then lay back on her pillow. Again it was as though she was resigned to her fate, rather than anticipating it. Froi wanted the anticipation. He craved it.
‘Are you going to plant the seed, or should I just blow out the candle and say good night?’ she asked, with a weary sigh.
‘Do you come to me willing?’
He waited, praying to the gods that the answer was yes.
Quintana blew out the candle and said good night.
She woke him later. A distracted look on her face, her hair all over his eyes. Froi pushed it aside with irritation.
‘Yes, I know. There’s a man dying in Turla.’
‘Why in the name of the gods would Arjuro deny knowing me?’ she asked.
‘You got it all wrong anyway,’ he muttered, willing himself back to sleep. ‘He was never in love with Lirah because he was having a dalliance with De Lancey of Paladozza.’