The Stones of Resurrection Page 28

  “What do you want from me, Rhoane?”

  His voice was a whisper when he spoke, emotion raw around the edges. “I want to be with you in all things, Darennsai. In love and battle, in the quiet moments of the evening.” He took her hand and pressed their flesh together. Their runes melded into one design. “I want to be with you so completely that your thoughts are mine. I want to know your body better than my own, to know what pleases you and how to soothe your pains.” He closed his eyes, and their bonds glowed bright with his ShantiMari. “I want a smile to light your eyes every time you see me. I want to know you, your dreams, your desires, and your fears.”

  He opened his eyes and stared into hers. “Prophecy says alone you fail. If you do not wish for this,” he let go of her hand, leaving her feeling hollow, empty, “I will not force you.”

  “Rhoane.” Emotion choked her thoughts. “I want all of that, as well, more than anything. But first I have to find out who I am and what I’m capable of.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Everything hit me at once. I need time to make this all my new normal. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t, either. It’s all mashed up in my head right now, and I can’t sort one thing out from the other. I need to learn how to use my power. I need to make the empress happy. I need to figure out how to stop Valterys from taking over the world. I need to keep my sister from killing me. And if that wasn’t enough, I need to take a crash course in court politics so I don’t get used by anyone. Oh, and let’s not forget I need to find a way to satisfy a boyfriend while also training to lead an army. It’s a bit much, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Taryn, you do not have to do all of this on your own. We are here to help and advise you. Do not make all of this your responsibility.”

  A spark of anger lit through her. “Isn’t that what being the Eirielle is all about? Please don’t placate me, Rhoane. This burden has been put upon my shoulders, not yours or Faelara’s or anyone else’s. I know I have all of you to help me, but when it comes down to it, I’m the one who will be facing Rykoto in the end.”

  “You mean Valterys.”

  “That’s what I said.” Taryn shook her head to clear her thoughts. The morning had not gone the way she’d planned, and her emotions were spent. “We better get going. I want to meet with the sword master.”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I will, as always, be by your side, but I will not pressure you for anything beyond what you can give.”

  She ran her hands through his hair, wishing things could be different. “What about Marissa?”

  A shadow crossed over his eyes, and his jaw clenched. “We will take what we know to the empress and let her deal with her daughter.”

  “So, you don’t really believe me? I know you took an oath, but I don’t want you here because of a promise you made before I was born. And I certainly don’t need you second-guessing me all the time. I want you to be with me because we’re partners. Equals who trust each other. I don’t lie, Rhoane. And I don’t hurt people to make myself look good. If we’re going to be together, you’re going to have to trust me.”

  She left before he could deny her allegations. She’d already heard enough of his excuses.

  THE summons came three days later. As she dressed to meet with the empress, Taryn fought her anxiety. She hoped Rhoane would be there, but because they’d not spoken since the morning she showed him the looking glass, she couldn’t be sure.

  He’d missed her training in the yard, but that wasn’t unusual. However, when he failed to show up at Faelara’s, Taryn worried that she’d upset him more than she’d thought. She sent several notes to his room but didn’t receive a reply, which only heightened her concern. And made her doubt Rhoane’s insistence that his feelings for Marissa ended at friendship. Since he wasn’t speaking to her, she had nothing but her dark thoughts to keep her company.

  She arrived at the empress’s lavish rooms early and was ushered into the empty sitting room. Lliandra entered, holding her hands out to Taryn. “My darling daughter. I am terribly sorry I haven’t made more time for you since the crowning.” Her Mari stretched across her face in a smooth mask, hiding Lliandra’s imperfections.

  But Taryn saw them, just as she saw through her mother’s calculated concern.

  “I treasure any amount of time you can give me. I know you are busy.”

  “Still, I should be ashamed of myself. Here I’ve been pining for your presence for the past many seasons, and once you’re finally home, I all but ignore you.”

  The same thought had nagged Taryn since her last visit with the empress. After her argument with Rhoane, she had plenty of time to sort out her situation, and one thing became clear—Lliandra was very good at public spectacles, but not at being a mother.

  They made polite small talk while waiting for Rhoane, but after half a bell Taryn started to suspect he wouldn’t be joining them. She toyed with the looking glass in her pocket, hesitant to broach the subject. After discussing her desire to visit the libraries, which Lliandra favored, even going so far as to insist Taryn have a tutor, Taryn took a deep breath and held the looking glass out to the empress.

  “This happened the night of my crowning,” Taryn started. The glass flared to life, showing Marissa and then Zakael moving around in Taryn’s rooms. Lliandra watched in its entirety, not saying a word until Taryn put the ball away.

  “I see. Do you have an explanation for this?” Lliandra’s voice was neutral, as were her features.

  “The only thing I can think of is that Marissa is spying for Valterys. They were obviously after the sword because the cupboard Zakael was trying to open held it, along with the crown.” She realized she’d not breathed since showing Lliandra the vision. Slowly, she let out her breath, taking a deep inhale.

  “Your valuables should be locked in the treasury, where they will be guarded night and day. See to it that they are moved immediately.”

  Taryn stammered a reply. “I didn’t come here to discuss the safety of my items. I’m more concerned with Marissa’s actions. Either you asked her to search my rooms, or she’s spying for Valterys.” The accusation was out before she had time to consider the consequences.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because she and Zakael are so, um, close.” Taryn looked away, embarrassed.

  “You mean they are lovers? Do you have proof?”

  Taryn was more than a little tired of people doubting her word. “Nothing I can show you, but I heard them.”

  “Heard them? Explain.” Her tone became cooler, more distant, with each demanding question.

  Heat flushed up her neck to the roots of her hair as she told Lliandra about her tour of the palace with Hayden, culminating in coming upon the princess and Zakael in a hidden passageway.

  “Are you certain they were rutting?”

  “Yes.”

  “You say this was the very night we returned to the palace?” Lliandra’s tone held harshness still but took on an edge of indifference, too.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Hayden.” Taryn almost told Lliandra that it was Marissa’s Mari on the sword at Ravenwood, and how her sister had searched her rooms at Paderau, but held her tongue. Unless she had proof, Lliandra wouldn’t believe her.

  “Say nothing of this to anyone. I will deal with Marissa. Now, tell me what’s been keeping you busy.” Lliandra’s voice oozed with false cheer. The immediate change of tone, and topic, took Taryn by surprise.

  “I, well, I’ve been training with the sword master and soldiers.” She fumbled for words. Her head was still swimming with the abrupt turn of conversation.

  They spent the next bell chatting about everything except Marissa and Zakael. Eventually, Lliandra stood, indicating the visit had come to an end. “Thank you, daughter, for your company. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” She gave Taryn a kiss
on the cheek and a cold embrace. “Oh, and Taryn, whatever troubles you are having with the Eleri prince, resolve them.”

  She turned away, leaving Taryn to stare at her, open-mouthed. When the servant approached, only then did she remember herself and regain her composure.

  In the hallway, Taryn let loose a stream of expletives that would make a soldier blush. At that moment, Rhoane made the unfortunate mistake of arriving at Lliandra’s suite.

  “Now you show up. I can’t believe you left me to deal with her on my own.”

  Rhoane looked at her, perplexed. “I was told to meet with the empress at this time, and I assumed you would be here, as well.”

  “Well, I was told to meet her earlier.” She glanced back at the door. “She is so fucking annoying.” Taryn glared at each guard in turn. “If you so much as mention a word of this to her, I swear I’ll arrange it so you never want to make babies again. Are we understood?”

  The guards swallowed hard and nodded.

  Taryn turned her fury back to Rhoane. “I’ll thank you not to tell Her Majesty every detail of our relationship.”

  “I have not told the empress anything about us.”

  “Then why did she just tell me to resolve our problems? You’ve been ignoring me, not the other way around. I sent several notes to you, but you never replied.”

  Rhoane looked positively flummoxed. “I thought I would give you time alone, nothing more. As for notes, I have not received any from you.”

  Taryn was about to challenge him when the door flew open and the empress stood before them. “What is all this shouting about?” She looked first at Taryn and then Rhoane. “Your Highnesses, I expect better behavior from both of you. Really, you do need to work on your communication skills. You always seem to be fighting. Whether it be with a sword in your hand or words on your lips.”

  She motioned for Rhoane to enter. “Prince Rhoane, I’m happy you could make it on such short notice.” She addressed Taryn. “Princess, you may go now. Quietly.” She waved her hand in dismissal before closing the door.

  Taryn seethed in the hallway while trying to decide what she hated more—duplicitous politicians or game playing Eleri princes.

  Chapter Thirty

  The woman sat at her dressing table, powdering her once-magnificent breasts. She hummed a pleasant tune and regarded herself in the mirror. When she saw Rhoane’s reflection, she jumped, a slight squeak coming from her sultry mouth.

  “Naughty boy! You scared poor Nena. Is it your wish to kill me?”

  Rhoane chuckled good-naturedly at her melodrama. “Not at all, beautiful Mistress.”

  “No. How many times do I have to tell you this? You do not call me ‘Mistress’ unless you share my bed.” Her eyes narrowed, and a sly grin cracked the heavy makeup she wore. “Is that why you have come today? Finally, you will give Nena what she longs for?”

  “I am afraid not. I am only here to make certain the crown princess is well cared for.”

  “You know I cannot discuss my clients. I will only say that Armando is the best I have, and he gives the princess exactly what she requests.”

  “I should hope so. She comes here frequently enough.” He knew for a fact she was two doors down at that very moment. If he focused his concentration, he could hear her. He did not so desire. “That is far more valuable than her coin, I would think.”

  “In this business, reputation is all you have.” Nena fluffed a strand of her luxurious copper hair and winked toward the bed. “It’s a shame to waste, no?”

  “It is a shame, but you know I am promised to another.”

  “Nena knows about the mysterious golden beauty.” Her tone became serious, and Rhoane sat forward in his chair. This was the true purpose of his visit—Nena knew all the gossip of Talaith. “You know Nena would never compromise her business relationships, but I have heard rumblings that some at court do not believe she is the empress’s daughter. Sword or no, there are those who count her false.”

  “I would be surprised if there were not.” He stood and took the madam’s hand in his own. “I was at her birth. She is Lliandra’s legitimate daughter.” He’d given Nena what she needed to contradict any rumors she might hear on Taryn’s behalf. The madam might not believe Lliandra or Marissa, but Rhoane she never questioned. In all their seasons of friendship, he had never lied to her and on more than one occasion, he’d given her vital information that not only saved her business, but her life. “If she was not, do you think I would be able to deny your charms?” Rhoane added with a wink.

  Nena actually blushed crimson and giggled like a young maiden. “Flatterer.”

  Rhoane employed an Eleri trick of folding time and left her rooms, chuckling to himself at Nena’s exasperated cry. To her, it appeared that he’d been standing before her one moment, and the next, he disappeared. In reality, he simply made the minutes slow for her and leapt from her open window. Only his people knew how to manipulate time, and even then, few could manage it without serious complications.

  He rode his stallion, Fayngaar, through the streets of Talaith, delaying his return to the palace. Lliandra’s meeting with him earlier that morning had not gone well, due in part to her refusal to hear his plea about Marissa, but more so because of the arrival of his father’s messenger.

  When he finally returned to the palace, his kinswoman Janeira tapped a booted foot against the packed dirt as he rode into the stables. As tall as most Aelan men, Janeira was King Stephan’s fiercest warrior. “You are late.”

  “I had business to attend. Why are you not dressed for dinner?”

  “I am without escort.”

  Propriety mattered to the Eleri, but since Janeira had arrived unannounced, and with his father’s demand that he return to the Narthvier at once, Rhoane cared little about her discomfort. A fact, he was certain, would be shared with the king. “I am here now. Let us change and arrive at the feast together.”

  Half a bell later, Janeira gracefully curtseyed to the empress, her long leg extended in the Eleri tradition. Deep slits up the side of her floor-length skirt allowed ample views of her tanned limbs. Janeira’s short top of green silk, embroidered on the edges with gold thread, did little to contain her breasts, and her arms and midsection were bare. She wore her dark hair in braids that hung to the dimples above her buttocks.

  A few of the men closest to her stared appreciatively until their gazes met Rhoane’s. A few brazenly took one last glance at Janeira before drifting off. Most of them had never seen an Eleri woman, and Janeira was among the most beautiful of his race.

  Janeira rose, adjusting the gold chain she wore around her slim waist. To the Eleri, it signified she was unavailable, but for some reason that thin piece of jewelry sent spasms of desire through the Fadair, the non-Eleri. Sometimes, Rhoane just didn’t understand the Fadair mind. She was promised to Rhoane’s brother, Bressal, and even though she wore the gold chain, she had not yet accepted Bressal as her mate but was considering him.

  After greeting the empress, Rhoane led Janeira through the crowded ballroom, scanning the area for Taryn. He’d not seen her since the altercation outside her mother’s rooms, nor did he see her now.

  Lliandra sat on her ornate chair, overseeing the proceedings with a satisfied smile. When they met earlier, she’d made it clear to him that nothing should go wrong that evening. She was livid at having an Eleri arrive unannounced and order her around for the Eleri king. At least they had that in common.

  It wasn’t like his father to dabble in Fadair politics. Rhoane had kept quiet to the empress, waiting until he had a chance to speak with Janeira about his father’s plans, but Janeira, it seemed, was more loyal to their king than he. She would say nothing on the subject, save that he and Taryn had been summoned to the Weirren Court, the seat of the Eleri king, and his home.

  “These Fadair are repulsive.” Janeira seethed when another courtier passed, openly gawking at her near-nakedness. “They think not with their minds, but with their cocks, wanting only to
satisfy the moment.”

  “That is an unfair assessment. Some of these men have shown restraint.” Rhoane resented the way Eleri believed everyone to be beneath them. For some of his people, calling other races Fadair was the worst kind of contempt they could show.

  Janeira scoffed as she glared down Lord Herbret’s watery-eyed appraisal. “Do they not realize the power they waste in trifling endeavors? They know nothing of what it means to share one’s body, to allow the exchange of ShantiMari to strengthen both parties. They are like children. Easily amused, easier still to lose interest once they have obtained what they chase.”

  “They worship in their own way. It is different, not necessarily worse.” He surveyed the few riders who had come with Janeira. They stayed off to the side, speaking only to each other. The Eleri didn’t understand the customs of people outside the Narthvier, nor did they wish to, which made it difficult for Rhoane.

  “They use something sacred for personal gain. They are disgusting.”

  Rhoane let it drop. The visit was not off to a great start, and he couldn’t risk offending Janeira. If she gave a negative report to his father, it was unlikely the Eleri would revoke his sheanna or accept Taryn as their Darennsai. Both of which needed to happen.

  Sabina dipped a brusque curtsey, her glare uncharacteristically cold. Her greeting to Janeira was the opposite, warm and inviting. The women dressed in similar clothing, which was to say, not much at all. Sabina wore the traditional attire of the Summerlands, a filmy gown that covered her breasts and lower regions, but left her midsection and most of her legs bare.