Bride by Command (34 page)

It was easier to talk in the dark, easier to hide her heart-break and disappointment. “Why did you lie to me?” she asked, trying—and failing—not to sound vulnerable.

Jahn sighed. “You called me fat and stupid and something else I’ve already forgotten, and then I overheard your stepfather vow to give you to the next man who walked through the door, and I could not resist. I thought it would be great fun, and I also thought that by the time we got to Arthes, you’d be begging for a chance to be empress.”

“Great fun,” she repeated.

“I did not plan to sleep with you, and I certainly didn’t expect to find a real wife in you,” he explained. “The deception started as a lark and it ended up being my
life.
I know I should’ve told you the truth sooner, but I was terrified of losing you.”

She had no reason to believe anything Jahn said, but she believed him now. He did love her; this would be so much easier if she didn’t believe that to be true!

Morgana found herself burrowing into his side, soaking up the warmth he had always offered, wondering how many opportunities like this would come again. A handful, if her father had his way. A lifetime, if Jahn had his way. None, if she continued to send him away.

What did she want? If she could learn to control her magical abilities, then she wouldn’t be a threat to those around her—but she could not undo the fact that she had killed a man. If Jahn knew, if
anyone
knew, she could not possibly remain in the position of empress.

She certainly didn’t want to be part of the chaos and betrayal Kristo had planned, but if she told Jahn all that she had learned, somehow Kristo would find out, and then what would happen? The man who had sired her would not be stopped easily, she suspected. He had planned his take-over for some time, and she and her child had always been at the center of his scheme.

“I will tell you this,” Jahn said in a soft voice. “You think I pretended to be someone I’m not, but that’s not true. I did not pretend with you, Ana. I pretend with everyone else, as I have every day of my life since coming here.”

She didn’t know what to do, so she nestled more closely into Jahn’s side and wrapped her arms around him. She did still love him; she could forgive him anything, though that didn’t mean he shouldn’t have to pay for his deception.

He should not have to pay with his life.

“I have missed this so much,” he said, throwing one arm around her. He had dropped his imperial robes before crawling into bed with her, and as usual had come to bed naked. She wore a thin nightdress that did nothing to keep his heat from her. This was much preferable to sleeping alone. Alone and afraid and uncertain.

“So have I,” Morgana said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner,” he said, and she could hear the truth of that statement in his voice. “I was afraid the truth would cost me everything we’d found, and I was right. If lying means I got to keep you for a while longer than I would’ve otherwise, then I’m not entirely sorry.” He sighed. “I won’t force you to stay. As soon as I’m certain you’re not in danger, you can leave any time you . . .”

Morgana lifted her head slightly. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He did, bringing his mouth to hers with hunger and passion. It was so sweet, after too many nights spent alone. So arousing, after too many hours lost in anger and suspicion. Emperor or not, she knew this man to the pit of his soul, and to hers. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she already carried his son within her, so even if they had only one more night together, nothing would change.

One kiss, and she was able to dismiss everything else from her mind. It was a blessing to be able to think of nothing but the sensations coursing through her body. It was ecstasy to throb and ache and touch without conscious deliberation. She loved Jahn and he loved her, at least for now.

He pushed her gown higher and spread her thighs, and she opened for him. When he touched her, when his fingers found the center where she throbbed and ached, she almost cried. Her own fingers aroused and tested him as well, as together she and Jahn happily tumbled toward the only conclusion this night could offer.

Suddenly hot, Morgana sat up and whipped the nightdress over her head, impatiently tossing it aside so she could feel her skin against Jahn’s. When that was done, she did not wait for him to come to her, but instead straddled him and guided his hard length to her, into her. She sank down, taking all of him and experiencing a moment of pure relief and satisfaction, before the need for more spurred her on and she began to move in an easy rhythm that was theirs alone.

Morgana reveled in the feel of Jahn inside her, so she moved slowly, prolonging the pleasure. She’d missed this; she’d needed it. Physically, she craved the pleasure and the release. Emotionally, she craved the inexplicable togetherness just as intensely. No matter who or what he was, no matter who or what he was not, Jahn was hers.

No matter what she’d done, no matter who she was or could be, she was his. Like him, she felt as if she pretended with the rest of the world—but not with him. He had seen all of her—all that counted.

Her body was starved for his, and the gentle movements soon turned fiercer, more demanding, until she broke and cried out in release and delight. Jahn came with her, burying himself deep and shuddering beneath her.

She dropped down and rested her head on his shoulder. They were still joined, and she did not want to leave; she didn’t want to move.

“I love you, Ana,” Jahn said, burying one hand in her hair and holding her close. He was not foolish enough to think that just because she had given in to him physically, all was as he wished it to be. He knew her better than that. “Can you forgive me? Can’t we forget the lies that brought us here and simply start again?”

Morgana lifted her head and looked down at Jahn, studying his fine face in the firelight. “We can’t ignore what’s happened,” she said, meaning every word. “And I would not want to forget what brought me here.” She stopped short of telling Jahn that she loved him; she hesitated, wondering how much she could tell. There was so much to be said. There was a child he did not yet know of; the accidental death of a man at her hands; a plan that included lies which made his own look like child’s play; betrayal and cold-blooded murder; and a child-emperor who would lead with the guidance of his vicious grandfather, if traitors had their way.

To tell all she knew might mean the end of everything; to ignore it might also mean the end of all she held dear—including the man beneath her.

But she couldn’t let him go with so much unsaid, she couldn’t let the man she loved continue on blindly, unaware of what had happened.

In order to smooth the way, she told Jahn the good news first. “I’m carrying your son,” she whispered.

His reaction was immediate and extreme. Jahn shouted and rolled her onto her back, laughing as he lowered his head to kiss her stomach. A sharp knock on the door followed, and a familiar voice called, “My Lord, is all well?”

“Very well,” Jahn responded in a voice loud enough for the sentinels beyond the door to hear. “All is very well,” he said more softly, for her benefit.

He would soon think differently, she imagined, but she would not rob him of this moment. To be honest, for the first time the child she carried seemed real, a blessing, a result of their love for one another. This baby could mean the beginning of a family. Their family. “You sound happy.”

“Of course I’m happy,” he said. “I’m back in your bed and there’s a child on the way. What is there not to be happy about?”

There was more, and she could not keep it from her husband. “Our son will have my abilities, I’m afraid.”

Jahn was silent for much too long, and there wasn’t enough light in the room for her to study his face properly. Was he disappointed? Horrified? His voice was calm as he finally asked, “How can you know? And how can you know that the child you carry is a son and not a beautiful daughter who will look like her mother? How can you know the child will inherit your magic?”

Now the conversation would become more difficult. “My father told me, and his magic is so much more powerful than mine that I cannot help but believe him.”

“Almund . . .”

“No,” she interrupted. “My . . . my real father. Oh, Jahn, I have so much to tell you, and I don’t know where to begin.”

“We have all night, love,” he said, smoothing a strand of hair away from her face. “Tell it as you will. I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath, trying to still her heart, unbearably glad for Jahn’s closeness. “My father intends to kill you. More rightly, he intends for me to kill you.”

At least he did not bolt from the bed as if he felt endangered. “What a night,” he mumbled, and then he lay down beside her and caught her to his body, where she felt safe. “Tell all, love, and together we will plan for what comes next.”

 

 

JAHN
had always known that one day his brother would marry here in this ballroom where so many affairs of state took place, here where just last night Alix had confessed that he planned to kill Jahn and take the throne.

This was another day, a brighter and decidedly more unusual day. Jahn had quickly become accustomed to Sanura’s blue skin, but to see Alix wearing the same paint was as startling as the knowledge that the struggle within the younger twin continued, and always would.

There were only a few ministers present for Alix’s marriage ceremony, and most of them were in shock, thanks to the hue of the couple’s skin and the fact that the bride wore a neatly arranged sheet as her wedding gown. Those who knew Alix well were surely as surprised by the change in his demeanor as Jahn had been, but they said nothing. Father Braen positively sputtered, but the red-faced priest did as he was told and said the words which declared this man and woman properly wedded.

When the short ceremony was over, the ministers and Father Braen all but scurried from the room. Word that Prince Alixandyr had lost his mind and painted himself blue and married a woman of no political importance would likely spread quickly. Jahn wondered if they would even bother to make note of the fact that the prince was happy and in love.

A properly wed Alix approached Jahn with a smile—a smile which looked decidedly odd against a blue face. It was more than the blue which made Alix look not entirely like the man Jahn thought he knew so well. The eyes were different, darker and more complicated. The set of his shoulders, the smile, the stride—all hinted at the hidden man Alix had been fighting all his life. This was the real Alix, Jahn knew it in a heartbeat.

“We’re leaving shortly,” Alix said in a lowered voice, perhaps so his bride would not hear.

“You’re welcome to stay, to make this your home.” Just because Alix had wanted to kill Jahn last night, that didn’t mean he was no longer welcome here. “You are still a prince, and your bride is now a princess.”

Alix shook his head. “Perhaps one day we’ll return, but I have many things to take care of before I can settle down.”

Jahn knew that if he told Alix all that Morgana had told him last night, the trip he planned to start today would be postponed. No matter what, Alix would not leave his brother in such a crisis. He would not ride away once he heard that there was a plan of assassination—other than his own. But Jahn did not tell. This was what Alix and his bride wanted, and he would not stop them from leaving.

There was an awkwardness between the brothers, as if an invisible barrier had been erected. The cause of that barrier was more than last night’s excitement and threats, Jahn knew. This was a new man, a new brother. And yet, the old one had not entirely gone.

An expression of great contentment crossed Alix’s face. “Sanura deserves more than I can ever give her.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” The set of Alix’s features became slightly more solemn. “What of you, brother? Will you marry a woman you do not love for the sake of a country?”

Jahn hesitated. A magically gifted son, a traitorous plot, a wife who gave him her body but had not admitted that she loved him and forgave him for his deception. How to explain all that in the mere minutes they had? “My marital fate is . . . complicated.”

Alix moved closer, but Jahn felt no fear. The man who’d threatened him was gone—for the most part. “I have advised you often since you became emperor, and I will do so once more, brother. The right woman is worth more than a country, more than a throne. Don’t let anyone make you take the wrong woman as your wife. If you are so foolish, you will soon regret your sacrifice.”

“What if I’ve found the right woman and she will not have me?” It was a question Jahn could ask no one else.

Alix’s smile reappeared. “You have always been persuasive where women are concerned. Call on all your charms.”

“My charms have failed me,” Jahn confessed in a lowered voice.

Alix laughed harshly. “I doubt that.” He glanced back to his bride, and a contented expression passed across his face. “We must go. We have a long way to travel today.”

“You won’t stay until the First Night of the Summer Festival? Just a few more days.” Again, Jahn considered telling Alix what was coming . . . and again he did not.

“No. The decision is yours. I’ve said all I can on the matter. Knowing you, I suspect all will be well.”

Jahn made a scoffing noise under his breath. It wasn’t his decision he was worried about. His decision had been made, but he wasn’t at all sure about his wife’s intentions. If they got past the excitement her father had planned, if they worked together to fight this foe who had risen up to threaten them both . . . then what?

The brothers had never been prone to hugging, opting instead for hearty handshakes and the occasional slap on the back. This parting was different from others. Alix and Jahn moved toward one another without hesitation for a long, hard embrace.