Fallen Page 29

  “The general likes me pretty.” Her acerbic tone matched the cold curve of her mouth.

  She was repeating words that Augustine had told her yesterday, but Cato couldn’t tell if she really had left her face untouched to please Augustine and resented it, or if she was just being patronizing because she could be.

  “Have a seat,” Cato instructed, deciding to ignore her condescension for the moment.

  She did, but her enmity continued to waft toward him in palpable waves.

  “You acknowledged plans of a marriage pact yesterday. What do you think you know?”

  She cocked her head slightly. “How about you tell me what you think I know, and I shall tell you if you are correct, Captain?” The word captain was dragged out with the familiar disdain with which she used to utter the word general.

  “That is not how this works.”

  “Tell me how this works.” She slouched down into her chair, throwing both arms behind her head casually. A direct contrast to her tone and expression, neither of which had softened.

  “I ask you a question. You give me an answer.”

  “And if I do not?”

  And there was the crux of it. Short of her becoming physically noncompliant, Cato felt certain that Augustine would not sanction violence against her for information’s sake. He had to outwit her, but she seemed aware of her advantage and she wasn’t going to relinquish it easily.

  “Tell me, Captain, why is it not the general having this conversation with me?”

  “Augustine felt it prudent to establish some distance in light of recent revelations.”

  It was a shot in the dark. A cruel manipulation, but he was counting on the jab triggering insecurity about her standing with Augustine. Nothing about her demeanor changed, so he had no idea if his words hit their mark.

  “How very fortunate for me.”

  She was so fucking difficult to get a read on. He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or sarcastic, and she vacillated so dramatically between hot and cold with Augustine that it was unclear if there were any attachments buried under her machinations or not.

  She leaned forward, the intensity in her eyes unnerving. “Now, are you going to tell me what it is you really want, or should we make a wager for information? Because I assure you, I will not lose twice, and very little would please me more than to break some of your lesser bones.” There was no doubt she meant every word.

  “Alright, Persephone, let us be honest for a moment. You and I both know that yesterday was a one-time offer, so let us focus on what we know to be true. You agreed to cooperate for protections of certain people. I am sure they would appreciate your continued cooperation.”

  The minute narrowing of her eyes was the only sign that his words registered. “I have an arrangement to cooperate with the general.” She looked around the room and held her hands up questioningly. “He is not here.”

  “When he is not present, I speak for him, so in his absence you must cooperate with me.”

  “What are you suggesting, Captain? That I fuck you too?”

  “You are well aware that is not what I meant,” he chastised.

  “Am I?” She sat up straighter in her seat, parting her knees suggestively and pulling her skirt up her thighs. “Perhaps we should fuck.” The tenor of her voice had dropped to a sultry moan. “You are attractive enough. Tell me honestly that you are not curious.”

  She was trying to make him uncomfortable and while it was working, they both knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. “I am not curious.”

  “Liar.” It didn’t matter that the word was a slur; she still managed to say it in a way that brought to mind sex and breathy sighs shared between lovers.

  Cato had to force himself not to shift uneasily in his seat. Persephone was very much Augustine’s, she had been from the start, and until this moment Cato had not struggled to avoid thinking of her in such lewd ways.

  “Come now, Cato” – she had never called him by name, and it had his stomach clenching – “I can keep a secret if you can.”

  He hated how she threw other people’s words back during an argument. “Enough, Persephone,” Cato commanded, impressed at how harsh he sounded as he was feeling more like an adolescent boy at the moment.

  Persephone only seemed amused. “Cock in your ass, Captain?”

  “I said enough.”

  She laughed, returning to the reclined position in her seat. She hadn’t closed her parted legs, nor had she pushed her skirts back into place, leaving only a small swatch of fabric covering her sex. Her knees swayed impishly back and forth, marginally opening and closing the gap between her thighs, and a wicked smile curled one corner of her mouth.

  Cato seriously considered sending her away, but if he let her unnerve him so easily during their first meeting, she would continue with the same tactics for their future encounters. His only defense was to appear unaffected and unperturbed by her risqué behavior, so keeping his eyes deliberately on her face, he continued as though the last few minutes had not happened. “What do you know about the marriage pact, Persephone?”

  “Do you think he would kill us both, or would he just castrate you?” she asked, once again avoiding the question.

  “As nothing will ever happen between us, we will not have an opportunity to find out. Answer the question, Persephone.”

  “Too bad.” Even though he sat behind a desk, her eyes trailed suggestively down and then back up.

  “Not really. I value my cock and balls.”

  “Well, there you have it, then.” Persephone clapped her hands together and sat up in her chair. Not all the way, but at least she had abandoned the suggestive posturing. The expression on her face hinted at boredom, but Cato suspected that she was weighing her options. Deciding what course of action to pursue next.

  “Does this mean you are ready to have a mature conversation?”

  “Oh, the subject of our last conversation was quite mature, Captain. Hardly suitable for children.” She was using her disdainful tone again. Irritating as it was, it was far preferable to the sexually suggestive one she’d just abandoned.

  “I meant, are we finished with the games?”

  “Would you consider a quid pro quo? I answer each of your questions in exchange for your answer to one of mine.”

  Tempting as it was, the less she knew, the better. Besides, Cato seriously doubted that she would so easily abandon her word games. They were too much a part of her. “No. What do you know, Persephone?”

  “I know nothing.”

  “And I know you to be deceitful and a liar. You are too clever to know nothing. Undoubtedly you have a guess.”

  “I would guess that you are very frustrated with me at present.”

  He chose not to respond to her observation, though she was spot on in her assessment. “What guesses have you made about the marriage pact?”

  “I guessed that the Finctus was interested in a marriage pact,” she said with smug tedium.

  He was tempted to bang his head – or hers – against the desk. Was she this contrary with Augustine? He had to assume not. The man would have no patience for such games. Cato suspected the only reason she played them with him was because she felt she could. Evidently she was correct; he wasn’t going to retaliate. She’d not technically broken nor disregarded any of the terms of her agreements, and Cato was too honorable to exact a punishment unless she blatantly did so. Furthermore, in spite of his continued insistence that he would do what was necessary, Augustine clearly cared for the girl. Not that Cato needed confirmation, but Augustine’s present course of action was proof of his feelings for her. Therefore, any harm to her person or that which she valued could not be inflicted lightly.

  Cato suppressed the urge to sigh his annoyance. He needed to choose his words with greater care; he couldn’t leave their first encounter without getting something useful from her. So, how to best her? She answered questions literally – exactly as they were asked – or not at all – avoiding th
em by using double meanings and wordplay. Frequently, she used some combination of both, so his own word choice was imperative. He needed to figure out not only which questions to ask, though, but how to interpret her answers. Questions that only allowed a yes-or-no answer might be more effective, as they offered less room for interpretation or vague answers. But he needed to give her an incentive to answer.

  Suddenly an idea struck him. “You may not have tired of your games, but I have, so this is what is going to happen. You are going to answer each of my questions – neither dishonesty nor a refusal to answer will be tolerated – and you are going to do this, because your ability to spend time with Seraphime is a privilege, not a right.”

  The smirk she wore immediately evaporated. “She is not to be harmed.”

  “Nor will she be, but spending time with you is not a requirement for that.”

  “Augustine and I made a deal –”

  “Augustine wants to know what you know and has tasked me with acquiring that information,” Cato interrupted. “Now, do you really believe he will side with you on this?”

  In a rare turn of events, it was a visible effort for Persephone to keep her composure. Finally, she spoke. “And here I thought that between the two of you, you were the more honorable.”

  “We are both men of honor.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Since our arrival, we’ve not done anything that is not permitted and condoned by your own laws,” Cato replied, hiding both his irritation at her implication as well as his satisfaction that he had her.

  “A meaningless thing when the law itself is immoral.”

  He’d never heard her speak so openly against the running of things in Galilae, though of course her leanings had been suspected prior to this moment. This was his in, his means to convince her to go along with the Finctus’s plans. It was just a matter of convincing her of the fact.

  “A thing you could change,” he suggested sincerely. “Augustine will have sway over the law shortly. Gain your husband’s ear, and his trust, and you could influence his decisions in such matters.” He wasn’t sure how realistic it was that she would ever gain Augustine’s trust. Undoubtedly, he cared for her, but he wasn’t naïve and he held no illusions about how calculating and manipulative she was.

  “I am not married,” she said, honing in on that one statement while disregarding the rest of what he’d said.

  It had seemed a trivial thing, as they all considered her practically married to Augustine already. The announcement and subsequent ceremony were merely formalities. “You will be shortly,” he told her confidently.

  Persephone scoffed. “We shall see.”

  “Think for a moment, Persephone, of all the good you could do for Galilae – for your people – were you to embrace this change.”

  She looked bored again, and Cato could no longer tell if his words were having any impact at all. “Are you going to ask your questions, so I may leave?”

  “I think that will be all for today. Consider carefully how you wish to proceed, Princess. We will speak again and you will not see Seraphime until I am satisfied with your level of cooperation.”

  An angry flush crept up Persephone’s cheeks. “I’ve agreed to cooperate presently.”

  “This is your idea of cooperating?” he tisked. “This will not do. We are finished for today.”

  “And when will I have opportunity to demonstrate I can be more agreeable?”

  “When next I feel like speaking with you.”

  Her hands were fisted in her lap and her jaw was clenched so tightly he could practically hear her teeth grinding.

  “You are dismissed, Princess,” he said when she hadn’t moved.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and stopped herself. With a final shuddering breath, she stood and left the room.

  He’d warned Augustine about cornering her, and here he was doing that very thing. This was either brilliant on his part, or eminently foolish. He would find out which when next he spoke with Persephone and she either cooperated or bared her teeth.

  * * * *

  Persephone was reeling upon leaving the captain. She was not to be permitted to see Seraphime? And had absolutely no control over her ability to rectify the matter? She could scream. Fuck the captain! And fuck Augustine for abandoning her! When Augustine had failed to summon her the previous night, she had been too distracted to notice or think much of it. When she had realized it this morning, at first she’d been relieved. She didn’t want him to see her this way. It had been sheerly on impulse that she’d made a mess of her skin; the hurt and shame experienced at reliving past wounds had overwhelmed her common sense. Presently, all she felt was rage. Persephone had no doubt that Augustine would shortly be dissolving any arrangements they’d made out of sheer disgust at her. Not only had he spurned her, he’d gossiped about it like a fucking housewife and set his lapdog to nip at her heels.

  Gods fuck him!

  By the time Persephone returned to the room, she was practically vibrating with her anger. Seneca didn’t say anything. He never did; not unless she addressed him first, and she was not in a friendly mood today. He just watched her with wary concern that suggested he was worried both about her and about what she might do under the present circumstances. His concern was valid; she wasn’t sure what she was going to do either. She needed to speak with her mother; it wasn’t a conversation she was eager to have, but it was necessary.

  When Persephone returned to their room, her father and brother were still at the day’s Council meeting, so Persephone only had to worry about Koli’s prying ears.

  “Stay here, Little Bird, while we have an adult chat,” Persephone told Koli, indicating the far side of the room. “Understand?” Koli nodded her acquiescence as the queen rose to follow Persephone to the opposite corner.

  Hands folded primly in her lap, her mother waited patiently for Persephone to start. She wasn’t quite sure where or how to begin the conversation. She was angry, but not at her mother, so she needed to try to find a way to speak calmly. The truth seemed the best place to start.

  “I’ve not been completely honest with you,” Persephone admitted.

  Her mother nodded. “Nor I, you.”

  Though they both admitted the same, Persephone couldn’t help feeling a pang at the perceived betrayal. “What have you been dishonest about?” Persephone demanded. The anger simmering so close to the surface reared up immediately.

  “I believe I know what the Perdomans may be striving toward, at least in part.”

  “A marriage pact?”

  “You knew?” Her mother looked genuinely shocked.

  “And you. How did you discover it?”

  “I suspected as soon as the general took such overt interest in you. And you?”

  “Much the same. More importantly, do you know anything further?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Unfortunately, I do not. I’ve no idea what they plan to do with the rest of us. I suspect the Fall Festival is the deadline they seek for the event.”

  “I agree, it makes the most sense. Why did you not tell me?”

  “This is a far more permanent situation than the arrangement you have presently. I did not know how you would react.” Her mother seemed to struggle to find words before saying, “I was concerned you might take your own life in an attempt at thwarting the general.”

  “The thought occurred to me,” Persephone admitted quietly.

  Her mother sniffed and swiped at her cheeks, brushing away the tears that fell. “I am relieved you did not, but what stayed your hand?”

  “I do not wish for this marriage, but ending my own life would not expel the Perdomans. It would merely remove from their grasp the one thing that keeps this takeover from being a slaughter. If we are to thwart them, we will have to kill them. All of them.”

  “I am not sure that is possible,” the queen said grimly.

  “Nor I, but what else can we do?”
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  “There may be another way.” Persephone tilted her head curiously, so her mother continued, “The general’s affections for you –”

  “Affections?” Persephone interrupted, completely aghast. She could not be serious.

  “Yes, affections,” her mother repeated.

  “I most certainly did not inflict this on myself.” Persephone pointed to the bruise throbbing on her cheek.

  She could feel the tightness caused by the swelling and her entire cheek and jaw ached. Augustine had snapped the back of his knuckles against her cheekbone. Though he hadn’t hit her lightly, force had actually been the secondary component of the blow. The precision of the hit and the technique with which it had been executed had caused stars to burst behind her eye as pain exploded through her face. A fine example of the principle that one need not hit hard so long as one hits properly. Her martial instructor would have been proud, she thought ruefully.

  “If you believe he harbors any genuine affection for me, then you delude yourself,” Persephone said scathingly. Such disrespect directed toward her mother was virtually unheard of.

  “I think you are mistaken.”

  “What are you saying, Mother? You would have me continue to play the whore for the rest of my life?”

  “I would have your remember that he has been merciful when he could have been cruel; that he has bargained with you when he could have used force; and that he has kept his word when he has been given reasons to break it.”

  Persephone felt her face flush angrily, she opened her mouth to object, but was forcibly cut off when her mother continued heatedly. “I would have you remember that this is a siege and that things could have gone very differently for us.”