Nor Iron Bars A Cage (40 page)
I sat there, stunned, as Tobin strode forward to stand before the king. I’d known Tobin had charged off to the king’s side when it sounded like Faro was in trouble. I’d had no idea the trouble had been that dire, or that Tobin had been so vital in the rescue. He hadn’t said a word. I suddenly was less angry at him for deserting me on that hillside, an emotion I’d have denied existed until I felt it go. Of course, I became more angry at him for not telling me the details. Did he think I wouldn’t like to know he was a hero?
Damned man.
King Faro said, “We owe you Our life, Voice Tobin. No reward is enough for that.”
Tobin said, “It was my duty and my honor, Your Majesty. That I succeeded, and that we both survived, is all the reward I need.”
King Faro gave him a smile, fast and fond. “Perhaps. But it’s not all the reward you’re getting. So listen well. About half an hour’s ride from the palace there is a farm. The land is called Sweetmeadows. There’s a well laid-out stable, and good grazing. The fences need repair, and there is no house upon it, but it’s fine, fertile land.”
I saw Tobin lose his amusement. He drew even straighter, staring intently at the king. I hugged myself. The absolute monarch of the land apparently did read notes from lowly translators, telling him what reward would please
me
most.
Tobin seemed about to speak, but the king held up his hand. “Now a farm, suitable for a breeding stud, is only small recompense for saving Our life. About two miles further on there also stands an empty stone house. The owner of the land has another manor, and no use for this house.”
My stomach fluttered in panic. I’d checked out that farm I’d asked him to give Tobin, and so I also knew the house he spoke of. In fact, I’d looked at the house with Tobin, which was how I’d stumbled across the farm in the first place. But I’d only suggested giving Tobin the stud. Not this. It was a fine house, solid, a little big but well-made. But it had deep cellars below that made my skin crawl. King Faro was going to give it to Tobin, and then he’d expect us to live in it, and I just
couldn’t.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
King Faro glanced up at my balcony, and then said to Tobin, “You’ll want to live on your own land, of course. So We hereby give you the stone of that house, and all its furnishings. You may command the labor of a company of Our troops, whose lives did not have to be spent in battle in the east because of how we prevailed there. You may also command the expertise of one or two of our Royal Engineers. They will move that house for you, stone by stone, and rebuild it in the style you prefer. Is it well?”
Tobin said, “I’ll rebuild on solid bedrock, then. I am most grateful, Your Majesty. Most grateful.” He didn’t glance my way, but I knew he said that for me, to show me he understood. I blinked hard, biting my lip. We
would
make our future work together, somehow. Tobin clearly could see it no other way.
The king nodded. “It’s little enough. Is there anything else you need?”
Tobin hesitated. He turned sideways, so as not to put his back to the king, and looked quickly up at me. I could have stayed in my seat, and shared his secret smile. But something pulled me to my feet, and I took one step to reach the balcony rail. I looked back down.
The room was almost silent, with just a rustle here and there of a woman’s skirts, the scuff of a man’s boots on the marble floor. Tobin seemed surprised and then very pleased to see me stand. He kept his eyes on my face. Everyone’s gaze gradually turned toward me and I gripped the balcony rail, feeling dizzy. On his throne, King Faro II gave me another tiny salute, no more than the brush of two fingers against his hair.
Tobin looked steadily up at me, and I straightened. I would stand there for him gladly, for all the court to see that I was his. Tobin said clearly into the silence, “Lyon? What do you think, beloved? Is there aught else that we need in our house?”
I looked down at him, that man, in his formal uniform in front of his king, but with every ounce of his attention fixed on me. I had to clear my throat, but then I found voice to say, “Tobin.” My endearments would have to wait for privacy, and maybe darkness. But I could give him this. “It sounds good to me. Perhaps a large kitchen window, with no bars, just glass, so I can look out and see our kitchen garden in the moonlight.”
THE END
Author Bio
Kaje Harper grew up in Montreal, and spent her teen years writing, filling binders with stories about what guys like Starsky and Hutch really did on their days off. But as life got busy, the stories began to just live in her head. The characters grew up, met, endured, loved, in any quiet moment she had. But the stories rarely made it to paper. Serious authorship got further sidetracked by ventures into psychology, teaching, and a biomedical career. And by a decade enthralled by the challenges of raising children.
Then around 2006, when the kids were more independent, her husband gave her a computer she didn't have to share. She began putting words down in print again, just for fun. Hours of fun. Lots of hours of fun. The stories began piling up, and her husband suggested if she was going to spend that much time on the keyboard she ought to try to publish one. MLR Press accepted her first submission,
Life Lessons
, which was released in May 2011. Kaje now has over twenty novels and short stories in print, including Amazon bestseller
The Rebuilding Year
, a contemporary m/m romance released by Samhain Publishing in March 2012, and several free stories available on Smashwords and elsewhere. She currently lives in Minnesota with a creative teenager, a crazy little omnivorous white dog, and a remarkably patient spouse.
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