A King's Revenge: Warlords Series Book 2 (10 page)

Chapter 17

Tarik hissed out a
curse and snatched it from her hand. Hensel came over his brows dipped in
concern. Tarik shoved the glass at him. “Do not let anything happen to this. I
want it tested by an herbalist immediately.”

Hensel didn’t
hesitate. He tipped his head to Tarik and offered Maliya a slight bow before
rushing off. Mati inched over.

“Sire, what is the
concern?”

Tarik fought his
instinctive desire to share with his long time advisor. A man who’d been at his
side since his father’s reign but they needed to stick with the plan. Everyone
was a suspect. Running a hand through his hair, Tarik said, “Have the musicians
and dancing start.”

Mati hesitated.

“Now.” Tarik stared
long and hard.

“Of course.” Mati
signaled the musicians who struck up a lively tune.

Fortunately no one
noticed their odd behavior. Uncaring of who watched, Tarik pulled Maliya fully
into his embrace, arms wrapped securely around her. His palms flattened on her
back and pressed her as close as possible while he lowered his head to touch
hers.

Poison. Someone had
tried to poison her and she’d only been back one day. How could this be
possible? Who among his staff would have had time to prepare? What if she’d drunk
as heartily as he had naïve to the risk to her life? He could have lost her
after just getting her back. A shudder rocked him at the very thought of living
through her death again.

“It’s alright,” she
murmured, hands stroking his back lightly.

The guards had moved away
enabling them a semblance of privacy. Tarik wanted to laugh. Nothing about his
life was private as evident by the fact someone had tried to kill his wife for
years and dared to try on the day she’d returned. What could be the motivation?
It didn’t make sense.

“Betrayal never makes
sense.”

He must have spoken
aloud but her answer served as well as any.

“You’re right in
that.”

Though it cost him, he
released her from the embrace that provided more comfort to him than her. “Are
you
alright?”

Here she attempted to
soothe him when she’d almost ingested poison.

Her mouth quirked up,
the enchanting curve of her lips as familiar as the white eyes watching him
carefully.

“I’m fine but I think
you have a ball to manage.”

Tarik chuckled. Once
more her humor revived him. Maliya had always been one for practical jokes and
the bright tones of her laughter often filled the castle when she managed to
pull one on him. He’d missed the tinkling sound. Stars, he’d missed his wife.

Couples partnered on
the floor dancing. A few waited at the bottom in hopes of speaking with them or
renewing Maliya’s acquaintance. They had yet to know of her memory lapse. He’d
start referencing it to lull the traitor into a sense of security.

Clasping her hand in
his, he performed a rigid bow in all its crisp formality. Olan would be proud.
When he stood tall before her, Tarik asked, “May I have this dance, lady wife?”

Her eyes continued to
sparkle. “Yes.”

He led her to the
dance floor and placed his hands at her waist while she hesitated only
slightly. “My shoulders,” he prompted in case the dance was one she didn’t
recall.

Her mouth tipped up in
the corner as her hands settled on his shoulders. “Thank you.”

He moved her
gracefully around the floor weaving among their guests. She followed his lead
so well he had to ask, “Is this familiar?”

Excitement glowed from
her white eyes. Tarik stared as a wave of tenderness overwhelmed him. Maliya’s
joy reminded him of the wonderful small things he missed from her absence in
his life. He hadn’t taken time to enjoy a lot. Now that she was back, Tarik
made a vow to do so more.

“I don’t remember exactly
but if I don’t think about it my feet seem to know the steps.”

He wished for a
different answer. One small kernel to give him hope that her memories of them
together would come back.

The first few times a
man attempted to cut in, Tarik whirled them away.

Until Maliya teased,
“The goal is for me to interact with those here. If you keep refusing to let me
go it will look suspicious.”

“If anyone doubts my
pleasure at having you back they are not as close to me as I thought.” However
she was correct.

Another laugh rang out
and his body responded to the sound by hardening. Fortunately the few inches
between them kept her from noticing. He glanced down at the pretty flush on her
cheeks. A few curls fell around the delicate edges of her lobes.

Tarik fingered the
soft swirls as he remembered its former length. “I thought you beautiful before
but this style suits you as well.”

The shorter cut
flattered her features. There were still the subtle differences which brought
to mind a question. He cupped her chin in his and angled it upward. “There are
other changes besides your hair. Your face is thinner, your nose not the same
and-” He broke off the last unsure how to phrase it.

“Please don’t stop
now, Your Highness.”

She wasn’t the least
offended by his observations. “Rik.”

Maliya stumbled in the
dance. Tarik tightened his hold until she had her balance. He loved having the
weight of her in his arms. Full breasts to his chest, the floral scent of her
in his nostrils.

“What?”

Tarik snapped out of
it. “Rik. You called me Rik.” And he longed to hear her use it again.

Her mouth turned down
as she pondered his words. He wondered what thoughts crossed her mind. Before
knowing who he was she called him Tarik. He’d settle for that. Never would he
let her use his title.

“What did you call
me?” She asked. Her hands absently rubbed the padded shoulders of his robe. He
ached to feel her touch directly on his skin.

Maliya tugged on his
hair to get his attention. “Hey.”

What did he call her?
My heart. My love. My air to breath. All
those things and many more. Tarik didn’t think Maliya was ready to hear any of
that though.

“Maliya. We were
comfortable with one another and our marriage was one of…love.” He would not
lie.

She looped her arms
around his neck. “I prefer Lea if it’s okay with you.”

“Lea,” he agreed. It
would take some time for Tarik to get used to it. But perhaps he needed to stop
thinking of the wife in his past and start thinking of the wife in his present.

“Good. Now you will
stand aside when the next man asked me to dance. Tarik.”

Disappointment weighed
on him at her choice but he accepted it. There was a bigger goal at hand here
besides what name she called him. Someone wanted her dead. Someone in his home.
Tarik took a deep breath and released it slowly. “You’re right.”

Her fingers toyed with
the ends of his hair. If she didn’t stop, he’d have to tighten the belt of his
robe to protect his dignity.

“Hmmm. I like hearing
that. I might like being married after all.”

Tarik stopped dancing
and stared down at her in amazement. Then to his surprise and that of the
people around him, he laughed. Laughed until his hands dropped from her waist. Maliya
always wanting to be right. Some things didn’t change.

“Now tell me how else
I’m different.”

She continued the
thread of their conversation. Tarik ignored the embarrassment heating his cheeks
and resumed their dance. “Your…top is different. Smaller.”

“You would know.” Lea
arched a brow at him.

Tarik had never been
more uncomfortable.

“I lost a lot of
weight in recovery. The head injury was more severe than initially diagnosed.
The doctors shaved my head, put tubes in my nose.” She fingered the thin bump.
“I needed surgery to open the passage because I had trouble breathing. I
guess…they didn’t put me back together exactly the same.”

Tarik thought her
beautiful regardless. “I’m grateful you’re alive. You can’t fathom how
grateful.”

Her head turned to the
side as she asked, “Do you mind?”

“Mind?” He’d lost the
thread and had no idea what she asked.

“The changes. Do you
mind?”

His Queen wife was
crazy. Tarik gave her a subtle hip thrust so she’d take note of his growing
arousal. “Does this feel like I mind?”

Her cheeks warmed and
when she lifted her white eyes to him, Tarik leaned forward and brushed his
lips softly against hers. She gasped.

Olan and Gretel chose
that moment to approach. Ever the affectionate one, Gretel separated them and squeezed
Lea into a warm hug. Tears pooled in her eyes when she leaned back. “How is
this possible?”

Olan kept his arm over
his wife’s shoulder but his gaze remained on Tarik in question. Tarik pulled
himself together. It began now. Though it pained him to not reveal all to
people who were like second parents to him.

“There was a mix up
during the attack. A maid servant lost her life. The Queen suffered a head
injury that kept her away. She’s lived off world with no knowledge of her
rightful place until now.”

Gretel gave Lea
sympathetic glances.

Olan’s stare held a
ton of suspicion. “I trust you are recovered?”

Lea nodded. “Except
for my memory.” She glanced at Tarik before continuing. “Tarik and I have a lot
to catch up on.”

Suspicion shifted to
sympathy in Olan’s gaze. “Do you remember us, Maliya?”

With a regretful sigh,
she shook her head. Gretel pinched Lea’s chin. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it will
all come back.”

Her words were Tarik’s
wish. He hoped that her time back home brought back her memories because his
love for his wife was still there even if
she
didn’t recall what they felt for one another.

***

Lea’s toes burned.
Either from the non-stop dancing or the heels she wasn’t used to wearing.

“It’s tragic to hear
of all you must have suffered since the accident, Your Majesty.”

Lea tuned in to her
current dance partner, another person who apparently recalled her fondly though
nothing nudged at her memory. During the first seconds of the dance she learned
that Braic had moving hands. After pretending to step on his feet for the third
time, his roaming appendages had settled safely on her hips.

“How is the King
dealing with your return?”

Her brows lowered. Wouldn’t
anyone be pleased to discover their spouse alive? “I’m not sure what you’re
asking.”

“Well it has been
three years since your death.” Curious brown eyes studied her expression.
“Surely things have changed…between you. From time and distance of course.”

Time and distance. Was
he joking? As if she’d been away on a trip as opposed to presumed dead. “The
King and I are overjoyed to be together again.”

Braic’s dark head bent
close to her ear. “Yes, but surely you remember how we talked of my interest.”

Lea stiffened at his
words but her feet kept moving as he danced them around the ball room. “Your
interest?”

Her breath sped up as
she peered over his shoulder to see Tarik standing beside Kord at the edge of
the room in a small group of laughing people. Both men had their gazes trained
on her. She relaxed marginally.

Braic’s breath wisped
along her ear when he whispered, “About being with me if you ever chose to
leave Tarik.”

“L-leave Tarik,” she
stuttered, her eyes once more darting toward the man himself. He must have
noticed her expression because he made to join her but Lea gave a slight shake
of her head.

Braic straightened,
piercing her with the burning glare of his eyes. “Maliya!” His hands gave her
shoulders a slight shake. “I’ve always been attracted to you.”

No one had prepped her
on how to respond to this. Braic’s confident smile dimmed to embarrassment at
her lack of recollection.

“My memory of that
time is not clear. The accident had a greater effect than the bump on my head.”
Lea kept her voice calm and soothing.

His breath eased out
and the pinched look at the corner of his eyes faded. When he grinned and
rotated her around the ballroom, Lea relaxed.

“Of course. I forgot.”
The hands on her shoulders turned caressing.

Lea’s stomach rolled.

“I’m so glad you’re
back. I’ve missed you.”

Chapter 18

Lea’s pale face was
noticeable from where Tarik stood. Braic had his head close to hers as he
spoke. Tarik tried to relax. She and Braic had a congenial relationship. He
couldn’t imagine there was any danger there but his gut kept churning.

“Have you noticed
anything amiss?”

Tarik glanced at Kord
who watched Lea and her dancing partner as avidly as Tarik.

“Nothing stands out
yet.”

Kord’s gaze hadn’t
left Lea’s all evening but neither had Tarik. “I’ve gone over anyone I could
think of that would wish Maliya harm. Or me.”

Kord broke his
vigilant stare to face Tarik. “Any names King of Desani?”

Tarik controlled his
frustration. This man had kept his wife safe though he didn’t agree with his
methods. “We can be at odds or we can work together. I’m willing to forgive
your actions because you did what you thought best for her.” His glare turned
dark. “But I won’t accept your continued slurs. Like me or not, she’s my wife
and I’m
not
letting Maliya go.”

Something like respect
lit the blue eyes. An indeterminable moment passed between them before Kord
turned and searched the ball room. “She prefers Lea.
Tarik
.”

Tarik relaxed. They’d
reached an agreement of sorts. Good enough for him. “As to names, I can think
of no one readily on my staff who would wish her ill. Before the alliance I
would have counted Kaban as my most prominent enemy. In my region Lord Vargas
comes to mind.”

Both of them sought
the robust tanned man in red silk, black hair cut ruthlessly short. Next to
Vargas, his wife talked animatedly with another woman. Lady Vargas was a viper.
Her blonde hair and delicate beauty hid a woman filled with malice and a
perfect match for her husband’s cruel manner.

“Yet you invited him.”
Kord’s tone conveyed his confusion.

Tarik clasped his
hands behind his back, eyes roaming until they landed on Lea. Olan danced with
her and she was laughing. “I invited him because he’s also my staunchest
supporter. While he doesn’t care for me and lusts for my throne, he believes in
Desani and has longed for peace and a means away from constant battle as much
as I have.”

With the alliance in
place Tarik fully expected Lord Vargas to become more of a threat. “I’m also
concerned about Lord Ellis and Coan. Both made it clear they didn’t agree with
Lea as a worthy Queen. Her lack of royal blood and odd eyes were two of the
reasons they listed.”

He didn’t invite the
brothers and enjoyed a moment of pleasure imagining their anger when the news
spread that she was back.

“What of the people
close to you? They couldn’t have all been pleased that you married a common
woman not of the nobility.” Kord asked, gaze constantly roaming.

The man’s tension
ratcheted up Tarik’s. He considered those close to him on his staff. “She’s worth
more than any of them,” Tarik started but that didn’t really answer the question.
“Hensel, Baylor and Mati are the only ones I trust implicitly.”

Baylor had been
Tarik’s personal guard before he took the throne. The two men were the same age
and had a friendship that withstood the difference in their station. When Tarik
became King he made Baylor his Captain of the guard and the man had personally
trained Hensel as his replacement.

Mati served as his
father’s advisor and it was natural for Tarik to let him assume the same role
for him. Everyone else he wanted to believe was innocent but he wouldn’t bet
Lea’s life on his assumptions. His gaze sought Lea.

One of Vaan’s Warlords
now danced with her. The warrior should have looked out of place in his leather
pants and cross chest harness but he didn’t. Several of the guests stared at
the two because it was clear Lea wasn’t the least intimidated by her sword
carrying dance partner.

This event was the
first with the Kabanians present amidst Desani citizens. Murmurs rose
throughout the crowd. Serin, Jaesan, Mikal and Effan all edged close to the
side ready to intercede. The four guards were the best of his men and Baylor
assured Tarik they would take care of Lea.

Vaan and his men
didn’t appear concerned. They all watched the dance floor from a cluster in the
corner. Mikayla’s head bobbed to the music but the warriors around her had
their arms crossed over bulging chest muscles to defer anyone who might think
to approach her for a dance.

***

“I think we’re causing
a stir,” Lea noted as she followed Ramar’s stiff dance steps. Dancing wasn’t
his strong suit but she liked that he’d approached her.

“The Desani are
toque,” he sneered.

She didn’t understand
the foreign word. “What’s that exactly?”

He whispered the term
for a female’s lower body part in her ear using Standard and Lea flushed then
snickered. “Not very kind of you and I’m sure your…Overlord would not
appreciate it. Tarik certainly wouldn’t.”

“The King has honor. Not
all of his people are the same.”

Kaban and Desani
history escaped her with the memory gaps. “Have the two countries always been
at war?”

Ramar glared at a few
couples who danced too close. His hands tightened on her waist as he moved them
away. She found his protective measure endearing.

“There have been
skirmishes through the years. The Desani Kings have a history of not wanting to
talk peace. King Tarik is the first to rule with a calm head. Until Thenl.”

He made to spit on the
floor and Lea jerked on his shoulder. “Don’t.”

Ramar frowned but at
least nothing gross ended up on the dance floor.

“Tell me what Thenl
did. I believe he’s the one who attacked me.” The details of the event weren’t
clear and when she tried to remember her head pounded.

“Thenl forfeited the
title of Warlord by betraying Overlord Galip. He sought to poison us but the
plan failed when Ashaya Galip managed to save and hide us. During this time he
attacked the Queen’s party to kill you. His actions caused the battles to
escalate. Full on war was almost declared. Many lost their lives.”

Lea gaped. When the
dark haired Warlord finally glanced down at her his lips curled in a smile. It
turned his face to down right handsome. “It is a tale fit for youngling, yes?”

“One would imagine.”
She pieced together most of the story. “Mikayla saved you all?”

“She discovered where
our bodies had been hidden. The deep sleep preserved our bodies and she
awakened each of us at great risk to her life.”

Lea searched for the
Raasa Su-Su and her mate.

Mikayla hugged the
Overlord and pinched his side in jest. His dark frown didn’t intimidate her at
all if her impertinent grin was to be believed. She reached up and pulled on
his braid next. The Overlord lifted her in his arms above his head and held her
suspended in the air. The Warlords with them paid the two no mind but guests
started pointing.

Mikayla caressed his
forehead earning a kiss as her mate placed her back on her feet.

“I think she found the
risk worth it,” Lea said.

Ramar followed her
gaze. “Yes. She is all that is good for him. He would die for her. It is a worthy
match.”

She remembered
something Tarik mentioned. “They have children.”

“She gifted him
identical youngling nine months ago.”

Beautiful. The music
ended.

“I will return you to
your husband.”

“I’d like to speak
with Mikayla.” She wanted to know more of the brave Raasa woman.

Ramar walked her over
without argument. When Lea reached the Warlords they all nodded at her in
acknowledgment but their stance remained attentive.

Mikayla grinned at
Lea. “Ramar did a good job dancing. Vaan has refused to join me on the dance
floor. Perhaps someone here will dance with me.”

Vaan’s lip curled and
none of his men volunteered. Mikayla didn’t feign a pout as Lea expected but
laughed instead and pulled Lea close to her.

“I’m glad the King
invited us. This is a big occasion for all. Not just the treaty but your return
to Desani and at Tarik’s side.”

Mikayla’s good humor
was infectious. Lea felt none of the awkwardness with the woman that she felt
with the other women she’d met.

Mikayla sidled closer,
fangs flashing and whispered, “How are you handling it?”

Relief and something
else she couldn’t describe crashed over Lea with the opportunity to be honest.
“Nervous in some regard but not as nervous as I think I should be. One minute
I’m fine and accepting of it all and the next I’m beyond anxious at the thought
of ruling as Queen.”

Green eyes gentled.
“It would be difficult for anyone in your place. Does any of this help you
remember?”

Lea couldn’t help
rolling her eyes. “No. I’m not sure how I managed before.” She was a person of
action. Or at least she thought she was. “I don’t feel royal and don’t know the
first thing about acting as a Queen should.”

Vaan turned in their
direction drawn by their intense whispers. “Have you shared your concerns with
Tarik?”

He had incredible
hearing. Lea flushed. “Not yet.”

His dark eyes stared
at her as if debating the wisdom of his next words. “I believe you will receive
a surprise should you speak with him about your life before.”

The cryptic statement
led her to look around the ball room for Tarik. For the first time all evening
his attention wasn’t on her. He spoke with a portly gentleman in a green
loincloth and matching vest. Legs like tree trunks were stuffed into scuffed
black boots. A wild mane of red hair with random braids lay about his
shoulders.

When she turned back
to Vaan his searing eyes were still on her. “Things are not always as they seem
Maliya Sabarn.”

His mate frowned, her
expression clear without eyebrows to enhance the dark glare she shot Vaan. “You
shouldn’t listen to private conversations.”

Wild amusement flared
in his eyes. “Then how else am I to know what you are about, she-ma?”

Definitely beautiful
the romance between them, Lea decided.

Mikayla leaned over
and murmured in her ear. “You think he’s sweet don’t you?”

Lea chuckled. “He
loves you.”

“Yes, but,” she peeked
at Vaan who no longer paid attention to them. “She-ma is a weed that grows
uncontrollably in the wilds of Kaban and is hard to untangle if you fall into a
thicket of them.”

Lea laughed hard
enough for tears to fill her eyes. She wiped them away noticing that all of the
Warlords wore smirks, clearly having heard Mikayla anyway.

Mikayla entwined their
arms. “Let’s stroll around. We’ll send panic through this crowd when they see
the Overlord’s mate and the Queen chatting amicably.”

“I’d love that
Mikayla.” Lea determined that this Raasa was one for mischief and she liked the
idea of walking with her new friend.

“Call me Miki.”

“The treaty will end
quickly should she choose to call you other than Mikayla,” Vaan stated.

Mikayla growled and
dragged Lea with her. Two Warlords followed on their heels. “Marek and Ramar
are behind us. Marin and Keil are with Vaan.”

“How many Warlords
live with you?”

Already glances landed
on them and stuck. Some were horrified but a few were pleased. Desani residents
fell into two categories. They either loathed this new relationship or loved
it.

“I rescued Vaan with
fifteen of his best warriors. They chose to stay when offered a chance to
return to Kaban. Of course the Council would make them miserable there.”

Lea raised a brow. The
intricacies of Kaban’s ruling system escaped her.

“The Kabanians are
ruled by a Council that works hand and hand with the Overlord. Since Vaan moved
to Raasa, his brother Saran rules by his word. Not all are pleased with the
arrangement especially the Council members but Vaan refuses to be swayed on the
matter.”

“Doesn’t he want to return
to Kaban?” Lea couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to go back home.

“No. He understands
I’m Su-Su to my people and it would be impossible for me to leave. This way was
easier and worked out for us.”

Mikayla stopped and
both of them gasped at the huge sculpture made of ice. The large tub beneath
caught any melting water.

“Is that Tarik?”
Mikayla’s question voiced amazement.

Lea peered closer and
indeed someone had rendered the image of Tarik in ice-crown and all. She
snickered then covered her mouth to muffle her laughter but Mikayla had no such
compunction and burst into peals of laughter.

This caused more
stares to turn in their direction but neither noticed as they wrapped arms
around one another.

***

Tarik broke off his
conversation with Gunther when familiar laughter rang out. Conversation around
them swelled. Lea and Mikayla walked arm in arm in front of the focal point at
the dessert table. His gaze shifted to the huge ice statue in his image.

A slow smile curved
his lips at his wife’s unfettered joy. This was how he preferred to see her.
Not strained by lack of memories and fearful of standing by his side.

Together she and
Mikayla projected a perfect picture of what this alliance with Vaan had
created. Two beautiful representatives of their race uncaring that they
shouldn’t admire one another publicly. They’d garnered the attention of
everyone in the ball room.

Vaan made his way to
his side with two of his Warlords. “Our youngling will play together and share the
same joy. It is good what we have done.”

Tarik couldn’t answer.
He was ensnared by the vision of his wife.