I took a step back, which I was loath to do, for fear it would encourage him. I tried to change the subject and noticed he had changed into riding clothes. “Isn’t there something you should be doing right now? Somewhere you need to be?”

“No.”

He stepped forward, reaching for another pin, but I hit his hand away. “Are you trying to seduce me or force yourself on me? Since we’ve agreed to be honest with each other, I’d like to know up front so I can decide how to proceed.”

He grabbed my arms, and I winced at the prick of pins in my flesh. He pulled me close and pressed his lips to my ear. “Why do you shower the Assassin with your affections and not your betrothed?”

“Because Kaden has not demanded my affections. He has earned them.”

“Have I not been kind to you, Jezelia?”

“You were kind once,” I whispered against his cheek. “I know you were. And you had a name. Reginaus.”

He pulled away as if I’d thrown cold water on him.

“A real name,” I continued, feeling a rare advantage. “A name given to you by your mother.”

He stepped toward the hearth, his ardor vanished. “I have no mother,” he snapped.

It was evident I had opened one of the few veins of warm blood in his body.

“It would be easy enough for me to believe that was true,” I said. “It seems more likely that you were spawned by a demon and an available knothole. Except that I spoke to the woman who held you as your mother grunted you onto this earth. She said your mother named you with her last breath.”

“There’s nothing special about that, Princess. I’m not the first Vendan whose mother died in childbirth.”

“But it’s a name. Something she gave to you. Why do you refuse to be called by the last word that left your mother’s lips?”

“Because it was a name that meant nothing!” he lashed out. “It gave me nothing! I was only another filthy brat on the streets. I was nothing until I became the Assassin. That name meant something. There was only one name better. Komizar. Why settle for Reginaus, as common as dirt and just as useful, when there’s a name that only one can bear?”

“Is that why you killed the last Komizar? Only for a name? Or to avenge Calantha’s cruel beating?”

His fury waned, and he peered at me cautiously. “She told you?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “That’s not like Calantha. She never speaks of that day.” He threw another log onto the fire and stared into the flames. “I was only eighteen. Too young to become the next Komizar. I hadn’t built enough alliances yet. But I hungered for it. Every day. I imagined. Komizar.” He turned and sat down on the raised hearth. “And then Calantha happened. Most of the Council was quite fond of her. She was a pretty little flower then, but they didn’t dare go near her for fear of the Komizar. She was ruined by the beating, scarred inside and out, but many of the Council favored me after that for saving her life. When Calantha pledged her loyalty to me, many of the Council did too. The ones who didn’t I eliminated. I had learned then that alliances are not just offered, they have to be carefully devised.” He stood and walked closer to me. “To answer your question, one purpose simply served another. Avenging her beating also brought me a name that I desired.”

He gave the dress a cold perusal. “Tell the dressmakers that one will do,” he said, offering his final approval. “And, Princess, just so you know, if you bring up the name Reginaus again, I’ll have to pay a visit to the midwife with the loose tongue. Do you understand?”

I dipped my head in a single nod. “I know of no one by that name.”

He smiled and left.

And I spoke the truth. It was clear that the boy named Reginaus was long dead.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“I’ll be moving you to a room near my quarters tomorrow. Servants will come to gather your things. This will make it more convenient once the wedding is behind us.”

Convenient. My skin prickled. I knew what convenient meant.

It was strange that I should find comfort in Kaden’s quarters, but I did. I knew Kaden was at least trustworthy in certain things—even when he was stinking drunk. His quarters also had a secret passage. I doubted my new chamber would.

We left our horses with the guards on the outer edge of a thicket of trees, and the Komizar guided me through the woods. The trees were thin-trunked and close together, but I could see where a path had been worn through them. This was an oft-visited destination. He called it his own personal shortcut. After only a few minutes of walking, the line of trees stopped and we emerged on a bluff that overlooked a vast valley. I stared, not quite sure of what I was seeing.

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

I looked at him, his face glowing. This was where his passion lay. His gaze floated over the valley. It was a city, but nothing like the one we had just left.

It was a city of soldiers. Thousands. He didn’t notice that I hadn’t answered him or even spoken, but he began systematically pointing out the regions of his city in listlike fashion.

There were the breeding grounds.

The smelteries.

The forges.

The armories.

The barracks.

The fletcher shops.

The cooperages.

The granaries.

The testing fields.

He went on and on.

Everything was plural.

The city stretched to the horizon.