Other Lives(10)



“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.”

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