Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (71 page)

But I had a reason for being. It wasn’t a great reason but it was something.

Now, with all I had, these last two days I was reminded that I was still at Apollo’s mercy.

He gave me everything.

And when he felt like it, he took it all away.

I heard the front door open and again went tense.

And again it wasn’t Apollo.

It was Lahn.

The sitting room wasn’t small, it also wasn’t large and there were a number of women in it. Still, the instant he walked in, the room seemed overfull, not only from his big man body but also the sheer force of his presence.

Like Hans, he only had eyes for his woman.

Unlike Hans, once his eyes moved over his queen they dropped to his daughter. Without delay, he strode to Circe, divested her of her baby burden and curled his girl into his arms.

Okay, no way he’d look better with a kitten.

True, he’d look hot cradling a kitten.

But the way he held his girl and looked down on her with unconcealed devotion in his fierce features, no kitten could top that, no matter how cute it was.

Once he’s showered silent adoration on his now sleeping daughter with four women raptly watching him do it (yes, even matter-of-fact Meeta, and as a Maroovian who were sworn enemies of Korwahk, that laid testimony to just how awesome Lahn was), he looked to me.

“A young female at Karsvall approached me prior to my leaving. She requests your attendance at a party in her chambers. I told her I’d have Zahnin bring you to her. He’s waiting outside to take you there.”

Only Élan would walk up to a huge-ass warrior and tell him to ask someone to one of her tea parties.

On that thought, I did smile. It was genuine, but it was small.

“It seems I’ve been summoned,” I murmured as I got to my feet. Once up, I looked around the assemblage. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Go,” Finnie said on a grin.

“Tell her I want an invitation next time,” Circe added, reaching out her arms so I could hand Tunahn to her.

This I did, saying, “Will do.”

I glanced through the group as I gave my farewells, seeing Meeta watching me closely as I did so.

She did this often.

On our trip back from Brunskar, she’d explained she had “the sight.” That was why she was in the woods, heavily armed, dragging Loretta with her. Though, Loretta was in on relating this story to me and she said she’d volunteered but I had a feeling her volunteering was a bit coerced. That said, she’d come and got herself injured because of it so it didn’t matter either way.

But now, I couldn’t tell if Meeta was watching me because she’d had a vision.

I also didn’t ask.

If I was going to be walking into another trap, I wanted to know.

The way she was looking at me now, speculative and troubled, I had a feeling she wasn’t worried about me battling scary-as-hell birds but instead dealing with an alpha who could make me feel marvelous, and it was rare, but he could also make me feel like dirt.

So I tipped my head to the side and gave her a small smile (that was not genuine) and headed to the door.

I threw on my cloak, pulled on my gloves and headed out to see Lahn had not lied. Zahnin was waiting on a horse for me.

I looked around as I made my way to him and saw no Bain.

Undoubtedly patrolling.

My attention diverted, I gasped when I got within arms’ reach and Zahnin’s arms did just that. They reached and pulled me up to sitting in front of him on his horse.

Clearly, he wanted to run his errand and get back to guard duty because he no sooner settled my behind in front of him when he put his heels to his mount and we sprang forward through the snow.

He said nothing but then again, he didn’t know very much English.

I knew no Korwahkian.

Thus the ride was silent.

That was until he reined in at the front door to Karsvall.

I had a mind full of Apollo and what I’d do if I ran into him.

My mind was also full of what he might do and then what I might do in response to what he’d do.

In other words, after the five minute ride, I had the beginnings of a headache.

To my surprise, Zahnin didn’t put me to the steps he’d stopped beside and promptly take off.

Instead, he threw a leg over and dismounted. He then put his hands to my waist and pulled me off the horse.

He set me on my feet but didn’t take my elbow or curl my hand in the bend of his.

He curved his fingers around my bicep and semi-led, semi-dragged me (his legs were longer so I couldn’t quite keep up) up the steps, stopping me at the door.

When he let me go, I tipped my head back to say thank you (words he had to know, or at least I hoped he did).

I didn’t get those words out.

His rumbling voice sounded.

“I have wife.”

I blinked in surprise not only at his strange announcement but that he spoke at all.

“Okay,” I replied, hoping he knew that word too.

“We meet. She no talk,” he declared.

I drew in breath.

He kept going.

“No good. Bad. Talk good.”

Hmm.

Seems I was getting another Cristiana style lecture with a lot fewer words.

“Talk
is
good, Zahnin,” I agreed.

“Warrior. You. Talk.”

Again few words but there was no mistaking it was an order.

I wasn’t sure I was ready. I wasn’t sure what to say. I just knew what I needed Apollo to say but I wasn’t sure he had it in him to say it.

And I didn’t know how I’d feel even if he did.

Even so, I said, “Okay, Zahnin.”

“Warrior suffers.”

Oh God.

I stared up at him. “Apollo suffers?” I whispered.

“Warriors’ women no talk, warriors suffer.”

Okay, this guy was a big guy, a hot guy, a scary guy, because even if we couldn’t converse all that great, you didn’t need words to know he was seriously edgy.

But he cared about his wife.

A lot.

And he was trying to do something nice for Apollo and me.

Which meant I hoped his wife cared about him too.

A lot.

Hesitantly, I reached out, touched his hand briefly and said, “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

His brows shot together over narrowed eyes and I was right.

Definitely edgy.

“No think.” He leaned into me. “
Talk.
”

I thought it best to agree at that juncture, and not simply because his limited vocabulary meant we couldn’t have a full-blown discussion.

So I did.

“Okay, Zahnin.”

He nodded sharply once then instantly turned and prowled down the steps to his horse.

He mounted the horse in a fluid motion that in and of itself would get him a contract with a Hollywood agent which would then lead to a resurgence of the western.

Once astride the mighty beast, he looked at me and called curtly, “Inside.”

I pressed my lips together, nodded, waved my farewell, then put my hand to the doorknob and went inside.

Once I’d closed the door behind me, I took six tentative steps in and looked right.

The door to Apollo’s study was closed.

That likely meant he was in there which thankfully meant I wouldn’t run into him.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and hurried to the stairs. Once up them, taking no chances, I hurried to Élan’s room.

The instant I appeared in the doorway, she looked up from pointing at a doll in a little chair and saying something to it (and it was clear the doll had misbehaved and Élan was telling her off), her beautiful green eyes came to me and lit.

“You came!” she cried delightedly, like the queen of Lunwyn had shown at her door (and this could happen for her, the country’s princess was only a short horse ride away).

Taking her in, she was one thing my old world could not offer me. Not ever.

And she was perhaps the only thing that could make me forget everything and just feel happy.

“Of course I came,” I replied, walking in taking off my gloves and grinning at her. “I haven’t had a more important invitation in years. No,” I corrected. “Decades.”

Her head tipped to the side and she planted her hands on her little hips, her eyes watching me undo the catches of the cloak at my throat.

Then they lifted to my face.

“You’re not wearing a hat,” she observed.

“No,” I agreed, swinging the cloak off my shoulders.

“You always make me wear a hat,” she noted.

I dropped the cloak and gloves to an overstuffed flower print chair and turned my full attention to her.

“I do.” I lifted my hands in front of me in the “don’t shoot” position. “And before you say it, you’re right. I should. Just like you always should. It’s important to keep warm in order not to catch a chill and it’s just as important for me as it is for you.” I dropped my hands and grinned at her again. “It’s just that I was so excited to get my invitation from Dax Lahn to attend your party, I forgot.”

“Chris doesn’t wear a hat,” she pointed out.

I approached her and stopped when I was close.

I bent slightly at my knees as well as at the waist to get closer and stated, “He should. He should stay warm and healthy just like you and me. But he’s a boy and boys have reasons for not doing things like that. Reasons we girls will never understand, no matter how hard we try. But we just have to be smart and do such thing as wear hats when it’s cold and be even smarter and when boys do things that make no sense, just let them do it. It’ll be their price to pay in the end if they have a stuffy nose. Am I right?”

“Chris gets grumpy when he gets a stuffy nose,” she informed me.

“We all do, honey bunch,” I returned.

“Not me.” She smiled. “That means I don’t have to go to the school room. I can lie in bed and Bella will bring me flavored ices for my throat if it hurts and Papa will come up and read me stories.”

Only Élan would find the silver lining of having a cold.

“I bet you’d prefer being outside making snow castles,” I told her and she screwed up her face.

It cleared and she said, “Bella gives me flavored ices even when my throat doesn’t hurt and Papa reads me stories too. So having that
and
being able to make snow castles is better.”

I was glad she had come to that conclusion even if I didn’t like suddenly having the vision of Apollo reading stories to his daughter in my head. It reminded me of how wonderful he was which could make me forget when he was not.

That had happened in the early days with Pol too. He’d do something awful then revert to the Pol I fell in love with and I’d forget. In the end, before I gave up the effort, I
made
myself forget.

Then, eventually there was enough bad that no amount of good could erase it.

If you put up with it, they dished it out.

Apollo was not Pol. I knew this completely.

The fact still remained that if you put up with it, they were going to dish it out.

And it got worse.

I’d put up with it from Apollo.

He’d again dished it out.

And it got worse.

I stopped thinking these dire thoughts when I felt Élan grab my hand and tug.

“You sit here, next to Ariel,” she instructed, sitting me next to a doll with a crown and a very pretty knit dress the likes of which I had several of in my wardrobe.

But as she moved me, I caught something out of the corner of my eye and spied Christophe peeking just his head around the door.

My body gave a start as my eyes caught his. He was watching us and I couldn’t know how long he’d been there. I also couldn’t ask for before I could say a word or even smile, he disappeared.

I drew in a breath as I let Élan seat me next to Ariel (not an easy task seeing as the chairs were not even half as tall as normal chairs) and my eyes drifted back to the door as she chattered and fake poured tea from an exquisite china teapot (that also wasn’t half the size of a normal teapot).

Chris did not show.

I took this as a sign that whatever Apollo was doing with Chris wasn’t working.

Once I processed that and let the heavy weight of it settle around my heart, I set it aside and turned my full attention to Élan.

She wanted me here; she had me here. And not with me moping or stuck in my head, worried about my life, Apollo or Christophe.

I’d sit through hundreds of tea parties.

I’d do it smiling.

And for Élan, those smiles would be genuine.