Other Lives (4 page)

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 alone,” 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?” 

“I haven’t killed anyone,” she said. 

“That fiancé, no? Did you wish it very badly? Did you stay awake at nights and ask your little friend to take his life? It listened, didn’t it?”

She had hated him. The pig, always trying to touch her. That night she had wished Hadrian would break his neck and she had placed her hands against the cool surface of the mirror and prayed for it.

I wish you would die.

A muffled sob escaped her throat. Miranda pressed a hand against her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to will away the memory but it was etched inside her head.  

“Who else? Another suitor.”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Giustan,” she said, her eyes snapping open. Surely he was a sorcerer for the word seemed to be pulled from her rather than uttered voluntarily. 

He stared at her, curious and despite the desire to say no more she found herself speaking.

“He was my friend. He was kind.”

“You killed him.”

“No. It killed him.”

“But it is
you.
Unintentional, undeserved perhaps, but still you.”

“Oh, what do you know?”

“I know you,” Darius said. “I recognized you.” 

“We are not the same,” she muttered. 

“You’ve run your whole life from the simple truths but here I am, ready to teach you.”

“Teach me some wicked spell? Some sorcery and devilry? Is that why the King cast you off?” she asked. 

“Devilry? I am offering you the chance to become mistress of your own destiny. Or shall you be a cowering maiden for the rest of your life? Will you avoid every man, every embrace, for fear the demon shall kill them? You have power, but no idea how to wield it. I know how to. A crown upon your head and the world at your feet. That is what I can give you.”

“It’s a trick. If you truly had such power you’d have a crown already, but you are not received in court anymore. You said so yourself.” 

“Two is better than one. The two of us together, why…we could have anything we wanted.” 

He was proposing an evil, wicked thing. And yet…oh, she’d longed for a different life. A place where she did not have to cower and hide, always alone and unhappy. Where they would not taunt her, calling her cruel names and shunning her as though she carried the plague.  

“Nikolaos…” 

“Knows nothing at all.”

He held her chin up, as if to have a better look at her and Miranda slapped the hand away. He answered by seizing her wrist and pulling her closer to him, their foreheads touching and his breath upon her face.  

“Let me go,” she blurted. 

“Where? With dear Nikolaos? He’s a little bland.” Darius smirked. “He’s terrified of you and yet he is consumed with desire. Unable to make a choice, whether to kill or take you, he’s resorted to abandoning you in some far off shore. What is his plan? Are you being delivered to a nunnery? He’s a coward, no chances of him breaking the spell with a chaste kiss.”