The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (39 page)

‘I think I can manage!’ 
Mistral muttered, recoiling from Melsina’s touch.  Being undressed was
just the final humiliation. 

‘Oh I insist.’  Melsina said
firmly.  ‘I will never understand the Ri’s penchant for black.  Yes
it is practical, but with a whole spectrum of colour to choose from they come
up with black?  That Eudora has a lot to answer for!’

Gritting her teeth and
remembering Fabian’s instructions to accept Melsina’s hospitality gracefully,
Mistral submitted to Melsina’s administrations and wondered what she would do
if she knew exactly what Eudora had to answer for with regard to her
sons.  Phantasm still hadn’t admitted quite what he’d had to do to get her
wedding dress made in time.

Sliding quickly into the bath,
Mistral eyed Melsina warily while she gathered up her discarded clothes and
swept from the room holding them at arm’s length with undisguised
distaste. 

‘Er, I need those!’

‘I’ll be back with some fresh
clothes for you in a moment!’  Melsina called brightly.  ‘You enjoy
your bath!’

‘New ones?’  Mistral sat up
in panic.  ‘What’s wrong with those?’ 

The door closed and Mistral sank
back into the foam-filled water.  Sighing, she gazed unhappily at the huge
bathroom and thought longingly of the bath at the mountain house.  She
would much rather be there instead of the small swimming pool she was currently
submerged in.  Alone for the first time since her ordeal at Golden’s
hands, she felt raw and vulnerable.  She needed Fabian.  She needed
Prospero.  She needed the security and familiarity of their small mountain
house.

The sound of the bathroom door
opening again dragged her from wistful thoughts of home.  She looked up to
see Melsina gliding lightly into the room with a neatly folded pile of clothing
in her arms.  She set them down and walked towards her, her green eyes
glittering

‘Now, let me see to your hair.’

Mistral forced herself to think
happy thoughts while Melsina vigorously massaged her head and repeatedly dunked
her.  Spitting water, she reflected darkly that the twins really didn’t
have a choice in the way they’d turned out.  To call Melsina overpowering
would be to call Xerxes a mild flirt.

Xerxes.

Her brothers.

Phantom said they’d ridden
through the night to help find her.  Did that mean they’d forgiven
her?  Or did they simply feel obligated towards another Ri warrior?

She sighed and promptly inhaled
in a mouthful of scented water as Melsina pushed her sharply under again. 
Choking, Mistral was then submitted to a confusing process that left her
feeling like a scrubbed hide being sent into the Valley tannery.

‘You have a very good
figure.’  Melsina finished buffing her dry with a towel then stood back to
regard her critically.  ‘Hmm.  Too many scars for something backless
though.’

Mistral raised her eyes to heaven
and thanked every jagged mark on her body.  Thanks over, she eyed the pile
of clothing dubiously.  So backless wasn’t an option, but what the hell
was?

Melsina approached the dreaded
bundle with a smile, ‘I hope you don’t object, but I went with a contemporary
blend of practical with a stylish edge.’

‘Er?’

‘Trousers darling, with a shirt,
but tailored!  Not that awful sack-shaped thing you were wearing, which I
am happy to tell you is going to be incinerated by our cook.’

‘But I haven’t got any other
clothes!’  Mistral yelped.

‘You have now.’  Melsina replied
soothingly.  ‘Try these on – oh, and I thought a girl as attractive as you
should have some pretty lingerie.’

‘Whaterie?’

‘Here.’  Melsina held an
unidentifiable scrap of something up to Mistral.

Mistral reached out to take hold
of it, raising it up uncertainly and holding it in different positions while
she tried to work out what it was.

‘I’ll put it on for you shall
I?’  Melsina said abruptly and wrestled Mistral into possibly the most
uncomfortable item of clothing she had ever worn, bar the wedding dress.

‘I can’t breathe!’

‘They do take some getting used
to, I admit, but beauty is pain my dear.’  Melsina said briskly and held
out a crisply ironed white cotton shirt for Mistral to put on.

‘Now these –’

The soft black trousers were
similar to her Ri uniform but obviously of a far superior quality.  They
were also quite a lot tighter than Mistral was used to wearing.

‘Er, won’t they rip?’ she asked,
peering round at how the material seemed to cling to every curve in a most
disconcerting way.

‘No darling, they won’t. 
Well, not unless someone tries to rip them from you.’  Melsina added with
a throaty laugh.

Mistral blushed and sat down
quickly to put her boots on.

‘That is where I fail you.’
 Melsina said regretfully.  ‘I am so sorry, but I have nothing that
is practical enough for you to be able to ride in.’

Mistral closed her eyes and
fought the urge to whoop for joy, ‘Oh no, these will do!  I am sure Ph –
the twins will help me choose something more suitable when we get back to the
Valley anyway.’

Melsina’s face instantly glowed
with pride, ‘My boys.  I do miss them you know.’

‘They speak very highly of
you.’  Mistral said truthfully.  They did.  Only with more than
a slight hint of fear as well.

‘I do wish they would meet a nice
girl and settle down.’  Melsina sighed and abruptly sat down next to
Mistral.

Mistral glanced warily at her out
of the corner of her eye while she tied her second boot.  There was no way
she was up to some sort of heart-to-heart with the twins’ overpowering mother.

‘Do they have girlfriends?’ 
Melsina enquired lightly.

Mistral fought down the memory of
Eudora’s hands reaching greedily for Phantom, ‘Er, no.  Well, not that I
know of.  We don’t tend to talk about that kind of stuff.’

‘Oh.’  Melsina looked
disappointed.  ‘And you’ve never –?’

‘No!’  Mistral laughed then
flinched at the suddenly flinty look in Melsina’s eyes.  ‘We’re like
brother and sister.’  she quickly added.  ‘I – I guess that I sort of
love them, but not like that.’

Melsina sighed and patted her
knee gently, ‘You are a good friend to them, I can see that.’

Mistral stared down at the
beautifully manicured fingernails adorned by heavy gold and diamond rings and
tried to think of something she could say that would make Melsina realise what
the twins meant to her.

‘They organised my wedding
without me knowing.  It was ... perfect.’

Melsina stared at her with bright
tears in her green eyes, ‘Really?  My boys?  They did that? 
Oh!  You have made me happy … my boys … a wedding!  But wait! 
You are married to Mage De Winter?  Why didn’t you say!  I’ve been
calling you by your first name!’

‘Please don’t say it.’ 
Mistral said quickly.  ‘It’s really not who I am, or will ever be. 
I’m just me, married to him.  That’s all.’

Melsina smiled wistfully, ‘I
understand.  It was like that for me … once.’

Mistral nodded and gazed down at
her new clothes, already dreading the amused expressions on the twins’ faces at
what their mother had done to her.

‘Oh!  But listen to me,
keeping you here when Mage Grapple is waiting for you!’  Melsina exclaimed
and stood up. 

‘Mage Grapple is in this house?’

‘No!’  Melsina laughed as
though that were a great joke.  ‘But he is waiting for you.’

Mistral followed Melsina back
through the procession of finely appointed rooms, noting a couple of really
tasteless portraits of the twins that she committed to memory in the hope of
finding the right opportunity to tease them about in the near future, and
suddenly they were walking back into the dazzling white room that she and
Fabian had slept the night in.

Fabian leapt to his feet as they
entered, his eyes widening involuntarily.  Mistral blushed when his gaze
ran over her new, too tight trousers.  She glanced over at the twins and
clenched her fists, waiting for them to say something derogatory, or just
laugh.  They did neither but studied her like an interesting specimen then
nodded slowly.

‘Not bad mother.’  Phantom
said approvingly.

‘But I still think she could
carry a dark red.  White and Mistral are not really compatible.’
 Phantasm added critically.

‘There are two dark reds and one
blue in the pile here.’  Melsina handed a folded pile of clothes to her
sons.  ‘And please don’t tell me how to dress people.’

‘Sorry mother.’  the twins
chimed meekly.

‘Are you ready to meet
Eximius?’  Fabian asked.

She nodded wordlessly, willing
him to get her out of Melsina’s presence and into some looser clothing.

‘Thank you, Mistress De’ath , for
your kind hospitality –’

While Fabian spoke to Melsina, Mistral
leaned around his back and mouthed desperate instructions to the twins to
retrieve her clothes from the cook before they were burned on the fire.

‘No chance.’  Phantom
muttered.  ‘Mother would kill us!’

‘Beside, you look quite good in
those.’  Phantasm said with a shrug.

Mistral began to mouth something
a lot less polite when the sound of her name being mentioned made her realise
that Fabian was talking to her.

‘Oh, sorry, just thanking the
twins for … breakfast,’ she improvised quickly and fixed Melsina with what she
hoped was a grateful smile.  ‘Thank you for, er … everything –’

‘You are welcome my darling, and
next time you are married – should there ever be one,’ she added with a quick
glance at Fabian’s expressionless face.  ‘Do call on me.  I have a
knack for organising weddings!’

‘Thank you, I’ll bear that in
mind.’  Mistral murmured and followed Fabian from the room.

‘Don’t leave without us!’ 
Phantom whispered while he showed them out of the front door.

‘You’re not coming with us to
meet Mage Grapple?’ 

‘The pleasure is to be yours and
Mage De Winter’s alone.  But we’ll be waiting to hear all about it!’ 
he hissed through the closing door.

Fabian didn’t look at her while
they walked through the courtyard but took her hand in his, leading her past
the bored looking lions.  Disturbed from their sleep they raised their
heads to watch them pass then yawned disinterestedly and slumped back into a
heavy sleep.  Fabian closed the ornate wrought iron gate behind them then
turned and pulled her sharply into his arms.

‘I am filled with inappropriate
thoughts,’ he growled and bent to kiss her.

‘You are my husband,
inappropriate away.’  Mistral murmured against his lips and let the heat
of his embrace burn away all of the dark emotions that had so nearly torn her
apart in the damp De Winter cellar.

He eventually released her with a
deep sigh, ‘I think we should get our meeting with Eximius finished and then go
home.’

Mistral stared dazedly back at
him and nodded.  He could have just told her that they were going to begin
a new life together in the north of the Isle running a dragon grooming service
for all she cared.  All she knew was that she was in his arms again and
nothing was ever going to take that away from her.  Tucked beneath his
protection of his arm Mistral gazed at the grand houses they walked past until
they reached the derelict grey mansion that had been Fabian’s prison as a child
and hers for the last two days.

Fabian glanced at it briefly and
scowled, ‘If you have no objections, I think I would like to sell it.’

Mistral looked at him in
surprise, ‘Why would I object?  It’s your house.  You can do what you
want with it.’

‘No, actually, it is half yours.’

‘Oh!’  Mistral paused. 
Of course, they were married now.  ‘No, I have absolutely no objections. 
Please, er … do as you see fit?’  she finished weakly, hoping that was an
appropriate response for a wife to make.

Fabian smiled mirthlessly, ‘I
appreciate the effort, but I think I prefer you the way you are.’

‘In that case you can knock the
damned thing to the ground for all I care!  If I ever set foot in there
again it will be a day too soon!’

This time his laugh was
genuine.  He pulled her close, kissing her hair, ‘That’s the Mistral I
married, oh, and, by the way –’

Mistral raised an eyebrow and
looked at him enquiringly.

‘I like you in those trousers.’

Mistral met his burning gaze and
felt the heat rise in her face, ‘You should see what she made put on
underneath!  It’s killing me!’

‘I would love to.’

Fabian abruptly kissed her,
fierce and hungry, completely different to his normal restrained
approach.  Mistral responded without hesitation, capitalising on his brief
departure from his usual rigid control.  She suddenly realised that due to
the Divinus, Fabian had lived through every agonising moment of her mental
torture and been helpless to stop it.  Her pain would have been nothing
compared to the torment he must have felt at being unable to fulfil the one
facet of his nature that was so deeply ingrained in him that he did it without
even noticing.  The need to protect her.

Fabian eventually pushed her away
with a last regretful look at her tightly trouser-clad form.

‘One day.’

‘I’m going to double my efforts
to gain the Sight, I swear.’  Mistral whispered fervently.

‘Thank you, but please could you
talk to me about something less interesting?  We are now outside Eximius’
residence and he is expecting an ordered meeting, not bear witness to a newly
married couple’s yearning passion.’

‘Oh please tell me he doesn’t
know about the damned ban on our love life too!’

‘Since he met with Divinus the
moment we arrived yesterday, I think you can safely assume that he is aware of
our unusual situation.’

‘Great.’  Mistral muttered
dismally while Fabian led her through the barren courtyard towards Mage
Grapple’s house.  ‘Well at least I can rely on Mage Grapple not to make
smutty innuendos.’