Sandstorm (39 page)

"Quite brave of you to simply board a ship and see where it might take you."

"If I had stayed, I would have lost everything," Valerie said quietly, fingers gently stroking the petals of a dark pink rose. "By comparison, heading for lands unknown is not such a hard thing." She laughed faintly and turned back to Ikram. "Though I think I would have had an easier time of it had I been able to use a blade as easily as you."

Ikram made a face. "My skill comes at a high price." The blood of Scorpions was only part of that price. He didn’t want to kill anymore.

Valerie nodded and dropped the subject, fingers curling once more into the crook of his arm as they resumed walking. "So what exactly do you do in the palace?"

Learn how to cleverly tell Kings what they should be doing – and how aggravating his council was not on that list. Training a Prince not to follow in his father’s footsteps. "Various things.

I’m…a glorified clerk, I suppose you could say."

"You look a trifle mature to be a clerk, I think," Valerie said teasingly.

"Surely I don’t appear to be that old?" Ikram asked, holding a hand to his chest.

Valerie laughed. "Not at all."

"I’m certain many think I’m far too old to be showing you around the gardens."

"I’m no young miss, sadly. I think a younger girl would probably want to be taken to one of those pretty cafes and show you off." She smiled. "I am just as happy to keep you to myself."

This was much more fun than careful games to cautiously gauge interest. More like the Desert – direct. "And I you. Truly, I’m surprised you are not already claimed."

Valerie laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. "Someone once told me I was a trifle too much like my hair, if you see what I mean."

"Perhaps that is a problem in Lavarre, my lady, but in Tavamara it is to be commended. I am glad Lavarre was stupid enough to let you get away." He stopped again as they reached a section that was mostly taken over by a large pond, noticing the way Valerie stared at the water lilies.

Valerie nodded at his words, and smiled before moving closer to the pond, but again Ikram had the sense that something troubled her, or that she didn’t believe him.

Well, he was nothing if not patient. "So what other things do you enjoy, my lady?"

"Valerie, please, my lord. I’m only a humble peasant, I feel silly being called lady."

Ikram thought about it for half a second, but he was ultimately a Cobra – he knew when to strike. "I am not calling you ‘lady,’ however. I am calling you ‘my lady.’"

"Ah," Valerie said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and once more taking his arm. "I suppose I could permit that."

"Where would you like to dine tonight, my lady?" Ikram asked.

Valerie smiled and held his arm just a bit tighter. "There’s a quiet little place I’ve seen over on the west end that always looked inviting…and it’s too mature for the younger girls, so I won’t have to worry about them stealing you away."

Ikram laughed. "There is no fear of that. Let us look at the wildflowers and then we’ll go."

*~*~*~*

Ikram had finally figured out why men spent all their time arguing and fighting – between eating and sleeping.

He would much rather fight Scorpions than face Valerie tonight. A bloody battle was far, far easier than asking her to marry him.

Even though he was pretty certain she’d say yes. Hadn’t things been going perfectly for the past couple of months?

He ignored the part of him that said Valerie had been increasingly unhappy about something, and that all his efforts to discover the source of it had ended in failure.

As had finding out where she lived – for he wouldn’t follow her, that implied distrust.

She never talked about her past, except in snippets. Never about her life in Tavamara, except in snippets.

All in all, she knew much about him – though he still wasn’t ready to tell her he would be the King’s advisor in probably just a year or so – but he knew very little about her.

He did, however, know she was sweet, kind, beautiful – perfect. No one and nothing could be more perfect.

Well, them getting married would be more perfect.

Which brought him back to desperately wanting to go and find a Scorpion to beat up.

Possibly several. Ikram rolled his eyes and forced himself not to check on the ring tucked into a hidden pocket of his sash for the millionth time.

They’d agreed last night, before he’d finally let her go home, to meet today at the café which had become their favorite spot – only a few minutes from the public gardens but tucked away so that it was never crowded and usually only patronized by a few dozen regulars and the occasional stranger.

He waited impatiently at what had become their table, trying to look as though he was the epitome of patience – he rather thought from the look the waiter was giving him that he was failing miserably however. Rolling his eyes again, Ikram signaled the man to bring wine.

A couple of minutes later the wine was poured – a dark, rusty red, perfect for early autumn. It was spicy and sweet, a perfect compliment to the pastries Valerie was so fond of.

Just as he thought he would scream with frustration, the scent of lilacs washed over him and he turned and stood, catching her hands and kissing them. "Valerie. I think you like making me wait," he teased – and stared in horror at the way her face collapsed into misery.

"Ikram," Valerie said, looking at him a moment before dropping her eyes, which were unusually dark. "We need to talk."

Dread twisted his stomach. This wasn’t how this evening was supposed to be going. "What’s wrong, my jewel?"

If anything, the endearment only seemed to make her more miserable. Feeling sick, Ikram helped her into her seat and gave her his own full dish of wine, not taking his own seat until she’d have several sips and seemed calmer, if not any happier. "Now tell me what’s wrong, my jewel."

For a moment it looked as though Valerie was going to cry, something he’d never seen her do – not even that day in the alley way. "I…Ikram…"

"Just say it, my jewel. All will be well."

"Ikram, the time I’ve spent with you has been the happiest time of my life," Valerie said to her wine dish. Slowly she looked up, voice growing fainter with every word. "I don’t think it’s presumptuous of me to think that you wanted our relationship to take a more serious step."

"That’s why I wanted to meet tonight," Ikram said, heart sinking.

Valerie nodded, and Ikram wondered what he’d done so horribly wrong that the woman who should be agreeing to marry him instead looked as though she were discussing a funeral.

"I…you’re wonderful, Ikram. All that you’ve told me of your past, your family…I cannot fathom why they would choose to reject you. You deserve a real wife, someone who would bring you honor and a wonderful family."

"I want you to be my wife," Ikram said, amazed at how easy the words were to say when he seemed to be on the verge of losing the only thing he’d ever really and truly wanted.

At his words, Valerie started crying.

Ikram felt like he was drowning.

"I can’t marry you," Valerie said, more miserable than Ikram thought it possible for a person to be. "I should never have led you along, except you’re the first man to make me so happy, to treat me like a person rather than a pawn to be used and discarded." She wiped the tears form her face. "I am sorry to have been so cruel. I was selfish, and I would continue to be selfish except I love you. You deserve a real wife. I cannot be that. Truly, I am sorry.

I…please don’t hate me completely." She looked for a moment like she wanted to say something more, then merely shook her head and stood. "Goodbye," she whispered, then fled the café.

Ikram waited just long enough that she’d be far enough ahead of him, then threw down several coins and followed after her.

Lady take the dratted woman, he had not acted like a complete idiot and spent the bulk of his savings on her and the ring in his sash just for the woman to vanish in a flurry of tears. What could be tormenting her so? Why wouldn’t she trust him? The minute he had the ring on her finger, he was going to shake her until something resembling sense found its way into her head.

Honestly, he was beginning to think of all those battles with a nostalgic pang.

Though he’d never followed her home, he’d made note of the routes she took whenever they parted ways, where she came from when she met him somewhere. He knew precisely which street she took when leaving the café, and took that, moving slowly but steadily.

Sure enough, five minutes later, he saw several yards ahead of him. Head and shoulders drooping, moving as though she had something to outrun.

It was early evening, still plenty of light, but Ikram had learned how to hide when there was nothing but sand all around him. He ducked out of sight every time she turned to look over her shoulder. Was it just his imagination that she looked sort of disappointed whenever she saw that no one was there?

Probably, but a man could hope. He wasn’t going to take tears and ‘you deserve a real wife’

for an answer. No, the only answer he was going to take was ‘yes, Ikram.’

Though he would have preferred it be done over dinner like he’d been imagining in his head almost since they met, not after acting like a Ghost and shaking sense into her. Sighing at himself, Ikram waited until she resumed walking briskly and then followed her, ducking into another corner right before she looked over her shoulder again.

He hadn’t expected her to live so far from the middle of the city; the houses got poorer and poorer as they went, and Ikram grew increasingly horrified.

She’d never elaborated on her past, but it wasn’t hard to tell that she had some sort of noble upbringing – he’d always burned to know why she’d really fled Lavarre. That she lived in such an awful district of the city…

It terrified him. He was taking her home tonight, even if he had to be all savage about it and carry her off. They were going to the palace, he was going to make her see reason, and then they could begin to plan their wedding ceremony.

Though he’d just as soon have the King marry them and be done, but he’d been around enough women in his life to know that even the most level headed got strange things into her head where a wedding was concerned.

He shook off his wandering thoughts as Valerie slowed down and finally stopped at the edge of a cluster of houses. Houses like this were really just one or two rooms to a family or person, the building surrounding a courtyard on three sides, the open side spilling into the street. Little communities, they shared the duties of caring for the building, the rent cheap for that reason and the fact that it was right on the edge of town.

So often she’d said she lived ‘nearby’ and Ikram felt cold, sick, at how easy it would have been for more men to assault her.

The woman called herself weak…she should be calling herself insane. He was going to shake her within an inch of her life.

Though he knew there was no other man in her life, he almost wished there was so he could beat someone senseless for allowing Valerie to travel alone in so dangerous a district.

Still she stood at the edge of the courtyard, not quite going toward the building where she lived. Ikram realized she was drying her eyes, trying to make it look as though all was well.

He fisted his hands, making himself hold still, fighting the urge to go up and comfort her –

somehow, he was responsible for those tears, and that thought tore him apart. They were supposed to be celebrating…instead he was slinking around like a criminal and she was crying all alone on a dangerous street.

A small voice broke the silence with a jubilant cry. "Mama!"

Valerie dropped to her knees as a flurry of tiny arms and legs and a cloud of red hair came running, tumbling towards her. She embraced the little boy with a choked sob, holding him close even when he began to squirm and protest the tight hug.

Ikram realized his mouth was still hanging open. A child.

Valerie had a child. The little boy looked just like her. Ikram bet his eyes were just as green, or would be as he got older. Valerie was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen…but that perfect, miniature imitation of her was a very close second. All Ikram could think, watching mother and son beneath the orange-gold light of the setting sun, was that he should be out there with them, not hiding in the shadows.

What was the boy’s name? How old was he? Surely not more than two…which meant he had been a mere babe when she’d come to Tavamara. Ikram boggled at the idea of a woman traveling with a baby across an entire ocean, with no one to protect them, no one waiting when they landed.

That was it. Valerie and her son were coming home with him. By the Lady, they were his and he would make her see that!

He waited impatiently for it to grow dark, to give the child time to sleep – he had no doubt there would be arguing, and he wasn’t going to do that in front of the boy.

At least some of the mystery was cleared up. In Lavarre, precious few would be willing to marry a woman who already had a child. It wasn’t much different in Tavamara. No man wanted to raise the proof that his wife had slept with another man. That she might have slept with another woman? Not so much of an issue. In Tavamara that sort of thing was common.

So Valerie must think he would not want her because she already had a child.

Which made him wonder as to the other pieces. Had she fled a lover? A husband?

Something inclined him toward the latter, though he couldn’t say why.

Well, if the bastard ever came along Ikram would deal with the problem in Desert fashion.

Swiftly and decisively. Valerie and her son were his now.

How else was the boy like her? Did he have her smile? Would he grow up to be as strong?

As clever? Would he be quiet and sweet or perhaps inherit some sort of temper from his sire? Ikram burned to know. It depressed him that Valerie had felt the need to keep what must be the center of her life from him.

Deeply depressed him. What had he done that made her think he wouldn’t immediately accept her child? Who could even think of scorning such a precious piece of her?