B00CH3ARG0 EBOK (22 page)

“It’s scandalous, you know,” she said.

The grey brows furled. “I do not know this word.”

She searched her mind for a way to express what she meant.
“It means shocking. When someone does something that most people think is
shocking, and they talk about it. It’s a scandal.”

“What is it that is ... scandalous?”

“Me. Here. With you.”

“Why?” He stopped, looking into her face. “We are both
free.”

She turned to him. He brought her hand to his lips, and shivers
ran down her arm, sending heat surging through her. His eyes darkened, fixed on
her mouth.

“Kazryth,” she whispered. “People will see.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “We will
scandal the Suralians.”

“Scandalize them.”

“Yes,” he said, and dipped his head toward hers.

She stopped him by laying a finger across his lips. “Not
here.”

* * *

A Latin lover.
Laura lifted her arms up and out in a
languorous stretch.
Dark, and oh so very passionate.
One kiss had led to
another, and ... oh yes, he was passionate.

She relaxed and settled back on Kazryth’s hips, gazing down
at him. She shouldn’t call him a Latin lover; he looked more like a North
American aboriginal. Lying on her sleeping mat, he stroked her arms with his
fingertips, his eyes closed, his lips curved in a gentle smile. She leaned down
to brush her lips over his. His arms went around her shoulders as he returned
the kiss. Then he smiled more broadly and opened his eyes.

Her stomach clenched. There was so much warmth in his gaze
it took her breath away. She ran a finger down his jawline, wondering how he
had learned to make love like that. Then again, maybe it was the fruit of long
experience. It was impossible to tell how old a Tolari was.

“Marianne told me that it’s rude to ask,” she said, “but ...
how old are you?”

He chuckled. “I have 130 years.”

“That’s—”

He stared past her for a moment. “It is 263 Earth years.”

“Oh my!”

A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “How old are you?”

She pursed her lips in mock-offense. “It’s not nice to ask a
lady her age,” she scolded, unable to stop herself from giggling. “Sixty.” She felt
suddenly shy. “You make me feel like a child.”

“You have twenty-nine Tolari years. You are but a child.”

She sputtered a little and screwed her face into a pretend
scowl.

He laughed. “I tease you.” She giggled and rolled off him to
snuggle against his shoulder. A contented purr rumbled through his chest. His
voice dropped to a whisper. “Spend time with me.”

“I am spending time with you.” She nuzzled the soft skin of
his neck.

He was silent a moment, seeming to think. “The meaning is
different in your language. I mean that I want to … make time to know your mind
as well as your heart, but … I cannot stay here. Will you come with me to
Parania?”

“I love to travel.” She looked up at him. There was an
unspoken plea in his eyes. “Oh, you mean – to stay?”

“Perhaps call it a visit. I want to spend more time with
you, and ... it is the only way.”

“All the friends I have left are here.” She sighed. “I used
to have so many friends.” Pangs of loss pierced her.

He turned onto his side to face her. “What happened?”

“Central Command happened,” she said, making a sour face. “My
husband made a mistake and got himself killed, and then Central Command used me
to try to abduct Marianne.”

He frowned. “Abduct?” he asked.

“Kidnap.”

“I do not know this word too.”

“Um,” she said, thinking. “Central Command tried to take
Marianne away from Tolar against her will.”

His face cleared, but then he frowned. “It is dishonorable
to ... kidnap ... the bond-partner of an ally.”

“We’re not all like that.”

“No.” The warm smile was back. He laid a hand along her face.
“Your heart is...” He stopped, seeming to look for a word. “I must learn more
of your language.”

“It’s not just my body you like?” she asked, turning into
his hand to kiss the palm.

He laughed and pulled her against him. “No,” he said. “Your
heart is … your heart is a garden. And I can feel that I help your grief.” He paused
to gaze at her. “Spend time with me. Come to Parania.”

“But my friends—”

“Suralia is ally with Parania,” he said. “You can return, any
time. You can talk with the Marann, any time. But I hope ... I hope you will
find new friends in my province. I hope you will not be lonely, being with me.”

She hesitated. “Let me think about it? I need a little
time.”

“Of course, my love.” He kissed her again.

“Where did Kazryth and Laura go?” Marianne asked, as she and
the Sural wandered through the Paranian exhibits. “Laura was interested in one
of the evening sessions. It’s starting.”

The Sural pulled his tablet from a pocket. As he gazed at
it, his mouth twitched. “They are in Laura’s quarters,” he replied, replacing
it in his robe. “It would be ... inopportune ... to interrupt them.”

Marianne blushed. “Well,” she said. Then she frowned. “Do
you know
everything
that happens in this place?”

His answering smile was crooked. “I am the Sural.”

Her lips pursed as if she’d bitten a lemon. “Well,” she said.
“At least you don’t have to check your tablet to find out who
I’m
sleeping with.”

He stifled a snort. “They are not sleeping.”

She coughed, her face growing hotter. “Maybe you shouldn’t
let on to Laura that you know when she’s ... um ... with someone,” she added. “Women
like her just don’t talk about that sort of thing.”

“Neither do you.”

“Sometimes I do!”

“Not often. You would be lying to say you are frank about intimate
matters.”

She grumbled. “Anyway, she’d be horrified if she knew that
we knew what she’s doing right now. For the past fifty years or so, the
aristocracy has been looking and acting like Old Regency England all over again
– lots of uninhibited behavior behind closed doors, but pretend it never
happens and no matter what, don’t ever talk about it. She knows she’s watched,
but it’s better if she’s blissfully unaware of the level of scrutiny in this
place.”

He chuckled. “Very well, beloved.”

* * *

“I am hungry, my love,” Kazryth said. “Do you want food?”

“Mm,” Laura replied, rolling and stretching. “A little.”

He sat up and admired her. “Come,” he said, as he stood and
headed for the bathing area. “Join me.”

He ran some water, beckoning to her. She came over and
splashed at him, making a game of it. When they were clean enough to satisfy
his sensibilities, he caught her in a sound kiss.

“You are happy,” he said.

He looked so pleased, a glad smile on his face, his eyes shining,
that she sighed and put her arms around his neck. “Yes, I think I am,” she
said. “It feels strange, so soon after losing John.”

He gave her another kiss, more tender this time, before drying
off to don the fresh robe the servants had laid out for him. She followed him into
her sitting room and watched, fascinated, as a servant brushed and knotted his
long hair. It fell below his knees.

“Don’t you people ever cut your hair?” she asked.

He straightened, eyes wide in surprise. “Cut my hair? Why?”

“To keep it out of the way.”

“It does not impede me,” he said as the servant finished her
work and left. He jumped, somersaulting over Laura’s head. “You see? It is ‘out
of the way.’”

Laura stared at him, wide-eyed. He vaulted over her head
again and twisted to land facing her, grinning. “You enjoy my skill?”

She nodded, glad the ceiling was high enough for his
acrobatics. “No wonder you’re so lean.”

“All the ruling caste must learn this skill, and all their
guards too,” he told her. “But come,” he added, offering her his arm. “I am
hungry, and you have eaten little today. There will be food in the refectory.”

The refectory proved to be deserted, which suited Laura;
being alone with Kazryth was more to her liking. Trenchers of food sat on the
long tables next to the kitchens. She pulled her food scanner out of a pocket
and double-checked what she took, though by now she was all too familiar with the
small list of items that were safe for her to eat.

“You are scanning the food?” Kazryth asked, after they
settled themselves at the high table and began eating.

“Yes,” she answered. “Most of the food here is poisonous to
me.”

“Poisonous?” he asked, brows knitted and dark eyes full of
concern. “How many of our foods can you eat?”

“Some fruits, some grains. It’s not much. The Sural’s
apothecaries make supplements for me so I can stay healthy.”

“I must speak with them,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I
do not want you to take harm if you come to Parania.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her food with a frown, thinking
hard. Then she looked up again. “Does Parania have different foods than
Suralia?”

“Yes, we have much variety. Parania is warm all year, and we
grow more food than we need.”

Her frown deepened. There were more foods, so ... maybe
there were more that she could eat. After — two months? — of eating the same
ten foods, it would be nice to have something different, even if it set her
mouth on fire. Marianne had told her the grain in Suralia was full of the same stuff
that made Earth’s hot peppers spicy. She expected it was the same in Parania.

“There you are!” Marianne’s voice came from the doorway. She
and the Sural strolled in, each taking some tea before seating themselves at
the high table. Marianne’s eyes twinkled with mischief over her tea mug. “You
missed the evening art session you were planning to attend.”

Annoyance welled up; she didn’t feel like being teased. Being
with Kazryth made her happier than she’d hoped she could ever be again after
losing John. “I forgot,” she said, a deliberate lie. Kazryth went still beside
her, his eyebrows flying up.

The Sural touched Marianne’s wrist. She cleared her throat,
and the look in her eyes turned sheepish. “So. What are your plans for
tomorrow?”

Spend the day with Kazryth
, she thought. And the next
day as well. And maybe the next day if his duties in Parania weren’t urgent,
but then ... but then he would be gone, and she’d be missing
him
as well
as John. No, she decided. It wasn’t going to be that way. Nothing but the fear
of being friendless kept her in Suralia.

“I’ve decided something,” she said. “Kazryth and I want to
spend a little more time getting to know each other, but he can’t stay here, so,”
she took a breath, “I’m going to Parania with him. I think it’s only fair to tell
you first.” She took another, deeper breath and turned to the Sural. “I know
you Tolari rulers don’t like to share your precious secrets, but please tell Kazryth
whatever he needs to know so I won’t get sick or poisoned.”

The Sural raised an eyebrow and gave her an appraising look.
After a moment, he gave Kazryth the same appraisal. “Very well,” he replied,
nodding. “I will see to it.”

“Thank you.”

Kazryth squeezed her hand, his face aglow. She smiled back.
His happiness was contagious.

“Laura,” Marianne said, looking taken aback and sounding a
little pained. “This is so sudden. Are you sure? How long are you going to be
there?”

Laura glanced at Kazryth, then back at Marianne. “I don’t
know. The invitation is open-ended. But it’s not like I can’t come back, is
it?”

“You are always welcome in Suralia and in my stronghold,”
the Sural said.

“Well then,” she said. “That’s settled.” She turned her
attention back to her food.

Kazryth chuckled. “My love,” he murmured, “I must speak with
the Sural.”

Her mouth full, she made a shooing motion with her fingers
and nodded. The Sural cocked an eyebrow at her Tolari prince.

“A delicate matter, dear one,” Kazryth added. “Perhaps your
study?”

Laura swallowed. “I’ll be upstairs when I finish. Probably.”

* * *

This should be interesting,
Marianne thought, as the
Sural beckoned to her and to the Paranian heir, leading the way to his closed
study off the audience room – the one where he couldn’t be interrupted without
good reason. Seating himself at his desk, he motioned to the chairs opposite. “Speak,”
he said.

Kazryth took a seat, his face impassive. “When I arrived
here yesterday, I sensed ... shock and ill-will,” he said. “May I conclude that
the Parania my mother has offended you?”

Marianne shot a look at the Sural, who merely raised an
eyebrow. “No,” he said. “But to explain, I will need to disclose information
the Parania clearly does not want you to know.”

Kazryth paused, seeming to ponder that possibility. “In
truth, I have been ruling in her name for a number of years. Of late … I am
uncertain she has the capacity to determine if you give me information she has withheld
from me.”

The Sural stared at him. Marianne looked from one to the
other, wondering what her bond-partner would choose to reveal. “Before you were
born,” he said, finally, “your mother and my father were entwined.”

Kazryth’s eyes widened. “I know the man who fathered me was
not Paranian and that his genetic profile was therefore not in our archives.
The Parania my mother has never revealed his identity to me. You are saying he
was
your
father?”

“Yes. Your physical resemblance to my father goes beyond
mere coincidence. You even sound like him and move like him – and you are also a
poet, like him. I have little doubt that Kazryn fathered you.”

Kazryth’s brows shot up. “His name was Kazryn?”

“Your mother appears to have named you for him.”

Kazryth leaned back in his chair, staring out the windows
behind the Sural, rubbing his chin. Marianne blinked. The gesture mirrored the
one the Sural used when deep in thought.