Other Lives Read online

  “It’s a tale,” he said. “Just some old tale.”

  “An old tale,” she whispered. “What if it isn’t? I don’t want Darius to be hurt.”

  “Fallen in love, have we?” he muttered.

  Miranda shrugged as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

  “At first I thought you’d fetched me off for some repulsive pig, but he’s not. He’s actually charming. I fear that he’d be harmed. Or you.”

  “Yes, yes, we know this evil demon will kill us all.”

  “Yes, and I must leave,” she said. “I must leave before you are hurt. It knows what I’m thinking, I can feel it. It’s in my dreams. Every night, when I go to bed. It knows.”

  “Knows what?”

  “Everything. Every single secret I keep. And it is inching closer. Oh, it’s closer and closer. It slips behind me at nights and whispers in my ear,” she said, her face distant and strange.

  He did not want to, would not have her speaking like that. It was too dreadful, her vacant expression. Like a porcelain doll with glass eyes. So he embraced her instead, pressing her tight against him just to get those terrible doll eyes to leave him.

  She cried freely and it didn’t help the situation at all. He was bad with weeping women and found himself mumbling silly words of comfort, smoothing her hair as she held on to him.

  The sobs diminished and when those eyes did look up at him again she seemed better, a trembling smile fluttering on her face.

  “Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

  Nikolaos grunted a muffled sound that did not amount to a real word, feeling absolutely awkward and misplaced. Thank you for what? He was no friend of hers and if she could see into his heart she would do well to recoil.

  But it was evident she was oblivious to his true nature the moment he felt a hesitant kiss.

  A bit shocked Nikolaos did not react at first, then kissed her back because he wanted to, had wanted it for a long time now.

  A splinter of jealousy dug into his soul every time he saw her with Darius. He pushed that jealousy aside, ignored the itching pressure inside his throat because she was for Darius.

  But thoughts about Darius were quickly stripped aside. He kissed Miranda and she wrapped her arms around him, pressed herself into his body.

  A flicker of sanity reaching his muddled mind, Nikolaos pulled back and stared at her.

  “No,” he said hoarsely. “Never.”

  She seemed hurt and ashamed as she rushed out. He was tempted to stop her for a moment. But he could not. Would not.

  6

  Miranda carefully avoided Nikolaos for the next few days. It had been a rather silly thing to do. Because if it the story was true, and she’d thought it was, then she was placing his life in danger with that kiss. She wasn’t even sure why she’d kissed him. Perhaps she was being bold, trying to prove the stories false. Maybe she was feeling lonely. Or perhaps she’d merely needed it.

  She closed her book and glanced at Darius who lay on a regal looking chair, his feet propped up on another chair.

  “Do you think spells can be broken?” she asked.

  “What kind of spells?” he muttered.

  “A curse.”

  “My grandfather said a curse can be bent, tamed, if you will.”

  “I wish your grandfather was here.”

  “He’s been dead for the past five years. But if it’s magic you want I’ll take you to Trivek. There are small dragons there that swim in the rivers and cry pearls.”

  “That’s a lie,” she said sadly.

  She saw her face reflected in the glass windows of the library and looked away. The silver surface of the cups they had been drinking with also reflected her. The library was growing darker and she didn’t want to be there anymore.

  Darius walked up to her, abandoning his book.

  “If you don’t want to go to Trivek I’ll take you somewhere else.”

  “Take me to Nortre,” she said, afraid of his nearness, of the window that so close and her reflection there.

  “Back to that sheep infested hole you despise?”

  “I need to go home. I belong somewhere else.”

  “Surely not in the middle of nowhere herding along a flock.”

  Darius chuckled. She did not laugh, turning to leave. He caught her arm, his face growing composed and serious.

  “Stay,” he said. “We can get you those dragon pearls and sail on a barge. I’ll make you Queen…”

  “I don’t want pearls, I don’t want a barge. You can’t make me queen of anything. You are always offering things you do not have, all these fancy tales and lies. Nothing is real.”

  “Who needs real?” he said with disdain. “It isn’t all fancy tales either. But stay for the tales if you wish. I do my best to entertain you.”

  “I’d like to go,” she said.

  “You are not a prisoner. You may leave any time you want. But if you’ve come all this way just to give me up before I solemnly ask for your hand in marriage, then you are a bit of a fool.”

  He was smiling again. It was a different kind of smile though. It had an edge.

  “It’s the whole reason Nikolaos has dragged you here, isn’t it? Don’t feel bad. Many other men have piled their nieces, daughters and even mistresses at my feet hoping I’d pick one of them. To tell you the truth I think marriage doesn’t suit me, but what do I know?” he chuckled. “I like you, though.”

  She thought she saw movement in the silver surface of the cups. She backed away from him and felt her back press against a bookcase. He frowned.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’ll bring you bad luck and shame and—”

  “I’ve had plenty of both since the King barred me from court.”

  “Barred you?”

  “For being a wicked, ambitious man. I can vouch it is true, that my ambitions are indeed quite high and I intend to wed you and place a crown upon that pretty head of yours. For you are my talisman, Miranda, and with you I shall have the whole world in the palm of my hand.”

  “You are joking and it’s not funny,” she said, for he was talking treason and insanity.

  He laughed and she could not help it, despite all her misgivings and her fear, and the reflection upon the cups, and despite it all she smiled at him. And she thought perhaps he was mad, but she liked his madness, his pretty lies, the stories he spun for her.

  But she thought of Nikolaos with his solemn face and her smile died on her lips.

  ***

  She tried to appear dignified. Instead, she succeeded in looking like a flustered child and stammered, forgetting her well-rehearsed speech.

  Worse, Nikolaos stared at her without uttering a word for what seemed forever until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Well?” she blabbered.

  “I’m extremely pleased,” he said.

  His face, drawn and stark, displayed little joy.

  “It’s what you wanted,” Miranda said. “All this time you’ve been telling me how I must marry the man. Now the man wants to marry me and I do not know what I should say.”

  “Say yes. It’s simple.”

  “Yes, I guess it’s simple.”

  “We discussed it. We talked about it at length.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you acting like this? As though you didn’t know this would be the natural conclusion.”

  “It is all very easy for you.”

  “Could we spare each other the melodrama?” Nikolaos asked. “It is not as if this is some terrible bargain.”

  “No, it’s not a terrible bargain. I’m sure you will also obtain some nice trinkets. A new title, some jewels. The little things one gets when he sells a woman.”

  “If you want to act the part of the victim you may. I know you are happy.”

  The room seemed very small and cramped. Suffocating. She exhaled.

  “Of course I’m happy. You brought me here and for the first time in my life I’m not al
one,” she said. “Everything is different. I want to be different. I want to pretend I’m not a monster. And it’s your fault. You’ve made me want this.”

  The few paces between them seemed like an endless void and Miranda’s heart flinched in pain. She moved towards the opposite side of the room because she had to do something to prevent the pain from tearing her apart and she could think of nothing more.

  “I should tell him yes then, is that what I should do?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he grunted.

  “I could still…why, I,” Miranda said, feeling bold. “You could take me anywhere. I’d go.”

  Such a thing to say. Shameful. Flinging herself before a man.

  Nikolaos’ eyes held nothing.

  “No,” he said.

  7

  Miranda defied the winter in a gown of pale yellow. She sparkled, sitting next to her summer lord, while the others chattered. And she did not look at him. Her gaze seemed to skip him, evading his seat, although he was in plain sight.

  Nikolaos drank and simmered. A scant few meters from him Darius was holding her hand, whispering something to her ear.

  He thought of another party, another occasion when the marquis had asked them to lift their cups for the woman he would marry. He downed his wine. It’s sweet taste lingered in his mouth.

  This was no proper, official engagement. But Darius, impulsive as always, had decided he must have a small celebration to show his choice of a bride. Later they would go through the drudgery of customary announcements and plans. Today was a feast of Darius’ ego, for he must show her off, like a man a parading a prize horse.

  “We should toast to Nikolaos,” Darius said, a little drunk by now. “For finding this unique woman, the best bride there can be.”

  Unique. Of course she was unique. Such a pretty deadly thing.

  “Thank you, dear Nikolaos.”

  Nikolaos smirked. Darius thought she was his, when Nikolaos knew she’d wanted him instead. The problem was, despite the lingering dread in his heart every time he glanced at Miranda, Nikolaos wanted her too.

  ***

  Her maid had asked permission to toast to her engagement with some of the other servants and Miranda agreed. Her aunt would have disapproved of this decision, but Miranda didn’t care anymore.

  After her maid left, she tossed a blanket over the mirror, blocking her reflection from sight.

  Miranda brushed her hair, running the comb through a knot and glanced at the hidden mirror.

  She shivered and extended her hand, ready to pull the covering off. She stilled herself, letting the blanket in its place, shielding herself from the reflection.

  ***

  She woke up with a start, the nightmare still clinging to her. In the dream she had seen him fall, tumble towards a never ending abyss.

  There was another knock at the door and Miranda rose, still confused from her dreams, her bare feet making no sound.

  Miranda opened the door and Nikolaos was there, safe and sound. She felt herself smile.

  8

  She was lighting more candles. The dim glow of the room created odd shadows as she drifted, her hair unbound.

  “Stop that,” he ordered, uncomfortable with all her nervous pacing. “I can see fine.”

  “Well then?” she asked, going back to his side. “What is it?”

  “You have some wine?”

  “No,” she said, folding her arms. “What is it?”

  He found his voice, and it was calm. It all came out easily.

  “In three nights’ time I will be leaving this place. You must be ready to come with me then.”

  Miranda stared at him in disbelief and shook her head. “Are you mad?”

  “No.”

  “Everything is as you wanted. I am marrying him, and now you want me to leave?”

  “It is complicated. I’ve done something wrong Miranda, something very wrong.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  His eyes darted towards the shadows, away from her. He couldn’t make himself look at her.

  “Darius, his wife…I did know his wife, I knew her well. We were in love … only he wanted her. There was nothing she could do; her family agreed to the marriage and they were wed.

  “She did not love him. She loved me, and I loved her back. She feared Darius. She told me he could be a terrible man. Darius and I fought together during the campaign at Lavart. He was cruel in battle, but isn’t that natural when facing your enemy?

  “There had been a prostitute at Lavart. Darius decked her in jewels, made her his official mistress. Eventually they quarreled. He was displeased with her and wanted her gone. He didn’t have to worry about her much longer since she died suddenly.

  “I never thought much about the incident. Many people died during the campaign, what was one prostitute? I thought about it later. I thought about it when Darius’ wife died too.”

  Miranda drew her breath in sharply. “Are you saying Darius killed them?”

  “She committed suicide. Elara would have never committed suicide,” Nikoalos said. “She told me she was afraid of him. Then she kills herself? No. No, she wouldn’t have.”

  “You are making it up.”

  “They said she cut her wrists, but I know he did it. He was jealous. He was mad.”

  “You’ve made it up.”

  “I knew the story you told me, about the curse. It’s the reason why I wanted to meet you,” Nikolaos said. “It’s the real reason why I brought you here. I couldn’t kill him myself without endangering my family so I had to use you to kill him. I knew the story was true. He would just die a mysterious death and it would be over.”

  “Stop lying!”

  “It is the truth”

  “It is a lie!”

  She let out a low, angry shriek and whirled away from him, holding on to one of the bedposts. He expected her to weep. She clung to the post instead.

  “You made me believe it was just a story. I never believed it until you came along…that I could just be like everyone else,” her words were low and harsh in the semi-darkness, her back turned towards him. “You were afraid, weren’t you? That’s why.”

  “Why what?”

  “That day you wouldn’t kiss me. You were afraid of the curse.”

  “Yes, I was afraid,” he admitted.

  She chuckled releasing the bedpost and sliding away.

  “It was wrong of me to deceive you. But I though it wouldn’t matter. I didn’t know you then. I thought you were just a weapon for me to use.”

  “What now? You try to buy your redemption? Darius lives, the creature is sent back to its cage?”

  “I have friends in Kire. I thought I could take you there, as a start. After that, I am not sure.”

  She broke down crying and he held her as she rocked against him like a grieving child.

  9

  The fire crackled, startling her. She looked down at her cards.

  She kept making mistakes. Stupid little mistakes. She was nervous, thoughts of Kire blurring the drawings in the card.

  Miranda knew she must be cold and composed. Nikolaos said the trip would remain their secret. Darius should not know or he might try to stop them.

  So she plaid cards with the marquis in the Summer Room, accompanied by the mechanical peacocks.

  “I win again,” Darius said with a sly smile.

  She pressed her cards down and smiled back. “Only because you cheat.”

  “Only because you are distracted.”

  Miranda laced her hands together. “I’m thirsty,” she said.

  “Well, then we’d better have some more wine,” he suggested, filling her glass.

  She’d already had too much to drink but felt no desire to refuse him.

  “Your face Miranda, it’s such an honest face,” Darius said as he handed her the glass. Her reflection danced on the surface of the glass and she felt the urge to press a hand over it, to block it from sight.

  “Is it?” she
said softly.

  “It can hold few secrets. Do you think I have not guessed it?”

  Miranda stared at him, the glass precariously balanced between her fingers.

  He leaned closer to her. “There will be no escape tomorrow night,” he said.

  She scrambled to her feet, a tangled, terrified mass of nerves. He appeared amused, his characteristic little grin extending and growing into an authentic smile.

  “It is rather annoying, you know? Nikolaos always seems to be trying to steal my women. My first wife, now the second one too. I wonder what the hell they see in him. Do sit down and finish that.”

  Miranda clutched the forgotten glass but took a step away instead.

  “You killed her.”

  “My adored wife was a fool who liked to kiss her Nikolaos in damp, dark corners. However, I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Technically, it is true. I live by technicalities. They are very much appreciated," he said moving to her side and plucking the glass from her hands. “If anything it’s Nikolaos and you who are guilty of playing me false. Fortunately I have known from the start exactly what you are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Retha told me some tales. Meaningless gossip most of it. Except for a tiny part. An old story. It made me think. It reminded me of some other stories. I told you my grandfather was interested in magic, didn’t I? He knew all kinds of stories about many types of demons.”

  He took a sip from the glass, offering it back to her. Miranda recoiled.

  “Demons can be very useful friends. You are lucky.”

  “Lucky,” she scoffed.

  “Yes, to have met me. You thought I was jesting when I said I know magic, but it’s true. My grandfather controlled several demons. I cannot say I have the same skills, though I know some small magic and the mixing, the creation, of certain poisons, certain talismans.”

  “Did you kill your wife with poisons or talismans?”

  He gave her a bored look and shrugged. “I hastened an inevitable ending.”

  "Nikolaos was right.”

  “Don’t be a hypocrite,” Darius said with a sigh. “How many people have you killed?”