Bonus Story 3
Valentin and Cassius at home in Monsilys, once upon a time.
A/N: And for our third and final bonus story, a peek into Valentin and Cassius’ lives in Monsilys, before they were exiled.
“Come on,” said Valentin. “I have to get to my tutor in an hour.” He trotted down the stairs and out into the courtyard, then sidled along the wall to the doghouse.
“Seriously,” said Cassius, following suit.
“We’re not going through the gate, dummy,” said Valentin.
“Oooh.” Suddenly interested, Cassius sidled a bit faster to catch up with Valentin. “Are we going over the roof?”
“No.”
“The kitchen?”
“Nope.”
“How, then?”
“Come on.” Having circumnavigated the courtyard Cassius followed Valentin towards the gardens. They wove through manicured lawns and shrubbery until they reached the door to a walled garden. Valentin worried at the lock until it opened and pushed through. “Shut the door behind you.”
Cassius complied while Valentin went over to the far side of the garden and pushed aside a hanging vine to reveal a wide crack in the wall. Cassius studied it. It certainly looked like it might be wide enough to fit a thirteen-year-old boy…
Crouching down, Cassius said, “Where does it lead?”
“Almost onto the road a little way down from the gate.”
“Perfect,” said Cassius. “Shall I go first?”
Valentin nodded and Cassius crawled into the gap, angling his body sideways to fit through. His head bumped up against the outer edge of the crack. “I can’t get through,” he said.
Making an impatient noise, Valentin tugged him out and reached in, punching at the rock. “Try now.”
“All right.” This time Cassius was able to wiggle through, half-sideways. He emerged behind a pile of rocks and ducked quickly out of sight of the road.
“Hey, help me out,” said Valentin. His arms had emerged from the crack and were waving around. Cassius grabbed them and pulled. Valentin was three years older, and a bit bigger than he was, but eventually his shoulders came through. Cassius tumbled head over heels and when he righted himself, Valentin was standing over him laughing. In retaliation he swung his legs around and brought Valentin down as well. Valentin landed half-across him, his elbow poking up Cassius’ nose.
Cassius shoved at him, and laughing, Valentin rolled over so he was smothering Cassius’ face with his buttocks. Cassius bit him, and Valentin squeaked and climbed off, putting his hand on Cassius’ face to push up to standing.
“I hate you,” said Cassius and stood up, brushing himself off.
Valentin just laughed and said, “Come on,” before he went dashing away down the hill to the town. Heretofore unable to discover Valentin’s objective, Cassius established eventually that Valentin was heading for the part of town known as the Dusk. It was at once expensive and disreputable, where the madams who plied their trade to the aura kept their houses.
“Valentin…” said Cassius.
“The Little Lady is having an open house today,” said Valentin.
“The Little Lady?”
“How old are you, kid?” said Valentin, not looking back. “The Little Lady has the most beautiful girls in the Dusk.”
“Oh,” said Cassius. “All right.”
They found the place easily. There was a steady stream of patrons coming in and out, and the two scantily clad women draped along the wall. They slipped inside between the folds of two voluminously-cloaked aura lords. In the atrium they stumbled upon an orgy. In one corner a couple of naked girls strummed lazily at lyres, while their companions stood on pedestals and danced, swirling their hips and twining their arms around their bodies. Around the edges, patrons had taken the girls they’d bought. Some were going to private rooms, but most, it seemed were content to make use of the couches around the room.
Valentin made a high squeaking sound and straightened his tunic. Hugging the wall, he watched the dancing girls without blinking. Cassius looked around, studied the girls like a physician might study a patient, but quickly became bored. Then his attention was captured by a man lounging on a couch, his hose down, his shirt rucked up, drinking from a goblet and watching through half-lidded eyes as one of the girls crouched down in front of him. Cassius felt his skin tighten a bit and he swallowed hard, but he couldn’t avert his gaze from the man’s throat as he threw his head back. There was sweat beading on the thick tendons running from jaw to collarbone.
After a while, he shook himself and prodded Valentin. “You’re going to be late for your lesson,” he said, “and you know how cross Dolmus gets when you aren’t taking your lessons seriously.”
“Dolmus is a prig,” said Valentin.
“Still.”
“All right, fine.” With a last besotted look at the dancers, Valentin let himself be dragged from the house. They made their way up to the palace and re-entered by the gate, smiling smugly at the startled looks they received from the guards.
They ran into Dolmus and Kyria crossing the atrium. Dolmus frowned. “Shouldn’t you be with the tutor?” he said.
“I’m just on my way,” said Valentin, then added, “Lady Kyria.”
Cassius didn’t miss the way Valentin stuck out his chest and dropped his tone half an octave as he said her name. Kyria raised her eyebrows and put her hands in the small of her back, relieving the weight of the baby. Dolmus put a protective arm around his wife’s shoulder and they continued to the family wing.
Screwing up his face into a grimace, Valentin trailed behind, splitting off from Dolmus and Kyria when they headed towards the Imperial Apartments. The schoolroom was on the third floor, so they climbed the stairs quickly and ran down the corridor, banging on the schoolroom door. It opened to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in a loose black tunic. He had a scholarly look and ink-stained fingers. When he smiled, his teeth were very white.
“You’re late,” he told Valentin. His voice was humming and persuasive.
“Sorry, Magnus,” said Valentin. “There was something else I had to do.”
“Mmhmm,” said the tutor. “Come inside, then, and we can get started. Cassius, run along.”
Valentin stepped in and shrugged at Cassius, before the door closed. Cassius stood staring at the door, unable to shake the lost feeling of being shut out of something important.