Goddess of the Rose (24 page)

Mikki could hear the frown in Gii's voice, and she turned to look at the handmaiden. “You don't like him.”

“It is illogical to like or dislike him. He is a beast. It is simply his duty to protect the realm—his sole purpose for being.” Gii sounded unusually terse.

“She's worried that he will err again and cause the realm to become bespelled once more,” Floga said.

Mikki noticed that the Fire Elemental's expression was as cold and disapproving as her voice.

“You sound like you're worried about that, too,” Mikki said.

“I am.”

“And are the rest of you?” She looked from Nera to Aeras. Both Elementals nodded quick agreement.

“Okay, what exactly did the Guardian do that made Hecate so angry?” Mikki asked, wondering why she felt so damn annoyed at the handmaidens and so damn defensive of the Guardian.

When no one answered, she turned back to Gii. The handmaiden squirmed and wouldn't meet her eyes. Mikki sighed. “Will you please tell me what in the hell is going on? I mean, how terrible can it be? Hecate did finally let him return.”

Gii's gaze rose to meet Mikki's. Her eyes were bright and round with unshed tears. “I cannot tell you, Mikado.”

“You've got to be kidding! Why in the world can't you tell me?”

“Forgive me—forgive us, but we are not permitted to speak of it. We shouldn't have said as much as we did.” Tears spilled down the little Elemental's cheeks.

“Please don't be angry, Empousa,” Nera said.

“She tells you only the truth, Empousa,” Aeras cried. “We have been forbidden to speak of it.”

“Gii is right; I should never have mentioned it. Hecate commanded that it remain in the past. We may not speak of it ever again,” Floga said.

“Well, how about the Guardian? Will he talk about it?”

“Oh, Empousa, no!” Gii's face, which had been flushed from the bath, suddenly drained of its color. “You must not speak of the past with him!” The other Elementals echoed her with horrified No's of their own.

“Okay, okay! I won't ask him. It's all right, Gii, please don't cry. Let's just forget I said anything about it.” Mikki hastily assured her, hating that she had caused the young women to become so upset. “Here, help me figure out which of these bottles holds what. I don't want to accidentally pour oil instead of shampoo on my hair.”

Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Gii pointed out the soaps and oils in Mikki's basket. Mikki only half listened to her. Her thoughts kept circling around unanswered questions. Even after the warnings she still wanted to ask the Guardian what had happened. Not tonight, of course. Not so soon. But what if she got to know him better? Today he had actually smiled and joked with her. And touched her . . . she shivered, remembering how his horn had prickled the skin of her arm and how his eyes had seemed to see into her soul.

It was true, but she squelched the thought, pulling her mind from the beast to the mystery that surrounded the realm he guarded. Hecate couldn't honestly expect her to live here and
not
want to find out what had happened that caused the sequence of events that led to her becoming the goddess's Empousa. Maybe the truth was that Hecate didn't want her to hear about it secondhand, like common gossip, and that was why she had forbidden the handmaidens to talk about it. Gii hadn't specifically said that the Guardian had been forbidden, too; she'd just freaked out and said not to ask him about the past. Well, it was obvious that the handmaidens, as well as the other women in the realm, tip-toed around the Guardian, vacillating between treating him like a rabid dog and a god.

She didn't think of him as either.

Mikki uncapped the cork from the bottle Gii had said was shampoo and poured a generous amount of it into her hair. As the night cooled, steam from the pools lifted in thickening waves, veiling each bather in warm mist. In a world of her own, Mikki inhaled deeply, noting that the soap was the same fragrance as the exotic perfume the old woman had given her. She finished washing and rinsing her hair and uncapped the other bottles, too. All of it—the soap, shampoo and oil—were the same rich fragrance.

“It is the anointing scent of the Empousa. None other may ever wear it.”

As each woman sipped wine and bathed herself, the pools had grown still, and Floga's voice startled her. Mikki peered at her through the steam and noted that the Fire Elemental's expression was odd—it was almost as if she looked angry.

“Do you wish you could wear it, Floga?” Mikki asked pointedly, lowering her voice so her words were for Floga alone.

The handmaiden instantly looked chagrined. “No, Empousa! Of course not,” she whispered.

But as the handmaiden turned away, avoiding her eyes, Mikki wondered . . .

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“
N
O, thank you, Gii. I'll be fine. I'm going to eat a quick dinner and go straight to bed. I'm totally exhausted, and tomorrow will be another busy day.” Mikki smiled brightly, telling herself she wasn't really lying to Gii. She was just failing to tell her everything.

“But, Empousa, are you quite sure you wouldn't like me to help you into your nightdress?”

“No need.” Mikki glanced down at the simple yet elegant butter-colored dress. “I think I'm finally getting the hang of the way these chitons wrap.”

Gii smiled, “Did it serve as proper work attire for you today?”

“Actually, it did.” And Mikki meant it. After some initial awkwardness at getting used to tucking in the trailing skirts, she found that the outfit was comfortable and easy to work in, even if it had required some help from the Guardian to stay on straight. Actually, maybe it was because it had required his help that she liked it so much . . .

“So you like it better than the . . . jens?”

“Jeans.” Mikki laughed, forced her thoughts back to the girl beside her and gave Gii an impulsive hug. “You know, I think I do like chitons better than jeans.”

Gii returned the hug with an affectionate squeeze. “Then rest well, Empousa.”

“You, too, Gii. Why don't I call you and the other handmaidens as soon as I wake up, and we'll all have breakfast together? I have some new ideas I want to discuss with you.”

“As you wish, Empousa.” Gii curtseyed, and then skipped lightly to the balcony steps and away into the night.

Alone at last, Mikki had time to be nervous about the next part of the evening. As it had been last night, the little table was placed just outside the glass doors to her bedroom. It was, again, laden with meats and cheeses, bread and wine. Only one place had been set, but tonight there were two chairs instead of one.

Mikki frowned. He wasn't going to get away with this. She'd invited him to dinner, and dinner it would be.

She closed her eyes and thought about the servants who had magickally appeared when she'd wished for wine and soap and clean clothes. “I need another place setting. Please,” she said.

In less time than she could count to ten, she heard two sharp knocks on her bedroom door. She stuck her head inside her room and called for them to come in, and one of the women she recognized from the hot spring hurried in, carrying a tray on which was another complete place setting. Mikki met her halfway across the room.

“I appreciate you coming so quickly.” Mikki held out her hands for the tray.

“I apologize, Empousa. Had I known you were not dining alone, I would have made certain the table was already set for two.”

“Don't worry about it. Actually, these are last-minute plans,” Mikki said quickly, hoping the servants could just tell when she wanted something and not when she was lying. “I'll take it from here.”

The woman looked confused, but she nodded. “Of course, Empousa. Shall we bring you more food and wine?”

“No. There's plenty. No need to bother.”

“It is never a bother to serve you, Empousa.”

Mikki reminded herself not to sigh. It might not be a bother for them to serve her, but she could already tell that such diligent service could very easily become bothersome.

Changing tactics, Mikki asked her, “What is your name?”

The servant blinked in surprise. “Daphne.”

“Daphne—that's pretty.”

The servant blushed.

“Daphne, I'll be fine carrying this to the table myself.” She took the tray from the disconcerted Daphne. “But I'll definitely need you in the morning. I'm going to have breakfast with the four Elementals. Could you be sure to bring enough for all of us?”

“Yes, Empousa.”

“Wonderful! Now, you and, um, the rest of the women can relax tonight. I won't need anything else.” Daphne opened her mouth for what Mikki felt sure would be a protest, so she added firmly, “Good night, Daphne. I'll see you in the morning when I call for breakfast.”

Reluctantly, Daphne curtseyed and left the room.

“A pain in the ass . . .” Mikki muttered to herself as she set the table. “All this ‘Yes, Empousa, what can I do for you, Empousa?' might sound like a good idea in theory. In practice it is a pain in the ass.”
Of course it probably wouldn't be if I wasn't sneaking around like a teenager meeting a thug boyfriend against her parents' rules.
“I'm not a teenager,” she told her reflection as she brushed through her drying hair. “And he is not my boyfriend. This is no different from a business dinner.” She pressed a hand against her fluttering stomach. “So stop being so damn nervous!”

The table was ready. She was ready—or as ready as she was going to be. Mikki walked to the balcony and sat down. She put her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and thought about the Guardian . . .

. . . The way he had kept such careful watch over the women today . . . his laugh . . . the heat of his body when he was near her . . . his touch . . . and how alone he'd looked disappearing into the shadow of the tree instead of being included in one of their groups at lunch . . .

“Empousa, you look sad. Is anything amiss?”

She opened her eyes. He was standing, just outside the pool of light cast by the candelabrum that sat on the table.

“I'm not sad. I was just concentrating. I'm not used to calling someone by just thinking about him.”

“It is a gift given to each Empousa by Hecate.”

“Oh, I appreciate it—it'll just take some getting used to.” She motioned to the chair at the other end of the table. “Please, join me. I don't think I realized how hungry I was until just now when I smelled this food.”

He stepped from the shadows slowly, as if giving her time to readjust to the sight of him. Mikki realized that she shouldn't stare—that she was being rude. But he was such an incredible being she couldn't just smile and make polite conversation and pretend like each new sight of him didn't send shockwaves through her mind. In the silence, his hooves rang against the marble, pulling her gaze down. He was wearing another short, military-looking outfit, which left much of his muscular legs bare. She noted that except for the fact that they were covered with a coat of slick fur, his legs were fashioned more like a human man than an animal. The leather breastplate molded to his chest and abdomen so it clearly outlined the definition of his muscles, which were completely manlike.
No
, Mikki mentally corrected herself,
no normal man could have a chest like that. He's not stone anymore, but he looks like he could have been carved from marble.

She realized he'd reached the table and stopped and was just standing there, letting her study him. Mikki felt her face heat with an embarrassed blush.

“What is that called?” she blurted, trying to cover for her rude staring.

“Empousa?” His wide brow wrinkled in confusion.

“That leather top you wear. I'm new to all of this.” She lifted an edge of her own clothing. “It was just this morning that Gii taught me that this is called a chiton. So I was curious about what yours is called.” She didn't think she sounded too terribly moronic. Maybe.

He looked down at himself and then back at her. “It is a warrior's cuirasse.”

“Cuirasse,” she repeated the word. “Is it over a chiton?”

“No, this is a short tunic. A warrior would not wear a chiton into battle.”

Because his expression seemed to tell her she was amusing him, she pointed to his bare legs. “I'd think you'd need more covering for battle.”

His face hardened. “I would, were I a man. For protection, Greek men go into battle with leather enemides strapped on their legs from ankle to knee.” He lifted one massive hoof and set it down with a heavy, dangerous sound. “I do not require such protection.”

A little tremor that was fear mixed with fascination shivered over her skin. She looked into his dark eyes and was immensely proud that her voice sounded perfectly normal. “Huh. Built-in protection like that must come in handy in your line of work.”

“Being Hecate's Guardian is not my work; it is my life.”

Mikki forced a little nonchalant laugh and started to lift a slice of cold meat onto her plate. “You have no idea how many men in my old world say that about their jobs.”

“I am not a man,” he growled.

This time Mikki did sigh. Deliberately, she put down her fork and met his gaze. “I'm well aware of that. Just like I imagine that you—as well as the rest of the inhabitants of this realm—are well aware that I'm not like any other Empousa. But am I all prickly about it? No. Do I feel the need to constantly remind you that I'm probably a good twenty years older than the norm, and that I'm totally confused by almost everything surrounding me? No. For two reasons: one, because it's annoying and, two, because bemoaning the fact won't change a damn thing. I mean, I could complain constantly about wanting to be taller or thinner, but that wouldn't ever change the fact that I'm five-seven and weigh”—she hesitated and reconsidered—“ten pounds more than I wish I did.” She pointed to the chair with a sharp, frustrated motion. “Now would you please sit down and have some dinner. I'm hungry, and when I'm hungry I get grumpy. So let's eat.”