Demon's Fire (28 page)

The marriage took place six months later in the courtyard of a hotel owned by a Yama who’d once been a famous dancing boy. Lush white roses had tumbled up the columns of the surrounding galleries, with pink ones carpeting the path to a bright silk awning beneath which the traditional Bhamjrishi ceremony had been held. Wine had flowed and guests had gotten silly and, to Beth’s happy, excited eyes, everything had been wonderful.

This was due in part to none of Pahndir’s relatives being invited. Interestingly, a number of Prince Muto’s servants, now bereft of their mysteriously vanished leader, showed up to request to enter into service with Pahndir. Apparently, their years with his ruthless cousin led them to reassess the benefits of Pahndir’s gentler managerial style.

It was no surprise to Beth that
her
family showed up in full force. They’d been nonplussed by her unusual union, but categorically unwilling to miss out, considering that their old friend Charles was part of it, and that Beth’s other fiancé was footing their travel costs.

As a result of Pahndir’s generosity, every one of her nieces and nephews had overrun the charming hotel. They’d taken pretty Xishi Midarri’s toddlers under their, well, “wing” wasn’t quite the right word—more like their evil influence. With precious little coaching, the two adorable Yamish boys had proved able to produce shrieks of delight as ear-piercing as any human child’s. Xishi’s repeated apologies had embarrassed Beth, though Pahndir’s old flame had also wished Beth well with a sincerity that brought tears burning to her eyes.

“I’m so happy my old friend has found you and Charles,” she’d said. “The two of you are everything I could have hoped for him.”

Touching though such scenes were, Beth was twice as thankful to have retreated with her husbands to Pahndir’s new mansion.

Her
new mansion, actually. According to local custom, the residence was considered Pahndir’s dowry gift to her. Because the evening was as soft and balmy as a kitten’s purr, the three of them were sprawled on cushioned lounge chairs in the rooftop garden, watching the Indypt River roll past their private wharf below. Charles’s small sailboat was tied up beside it. According to him, this was his wedding present to both of them, though neither Beth nor Pahndir dared step inside the secondhand
felucca
until Charles learned to navigate a bit better. Above his new acquisition, the sky was a deep azure, the clouds streaked in shades of tangerine and scarlet by the setting sun. Enjoying the weather as much as they were, tiny black bats wheeled over the river’s palms, saving them the trouble of swatting insects.

Beth thought the quiet was delicious, and her companions the best of all. They’d pulled their chairs side by side, their hands close enough to stretch out and touch.

As if his thoughts were unfurling along similar lines, Pahndir heaved a melodic and unYamish sigh. “Your parents weren’t as horrified as I expected.”

Beth had enough energy to smile. “I think my brother, Adrian, broke them in when he married Herrington’s daughter. Roxanne isn’t just half Yamish, she’s also a bawdy painter.”

“I liked her,” Pahndir said. “She reminded me of you.”

“Well, that would explain some things. Charles had an awful crush on her when he was her ward.”

“Oh, Lord,” Charles groaned from Pahndir’s other side. “Don’t be trotting out those old stories.”

“Your younger brother is quite intelligent,” Pahndir offered, willing to change the topic for his sake.

“Max is a genius,” Beth and Charles chimed in unison.

This seemed to be Pahndir’s signal to reach out for both their hands. For a long, quiet moment, Beth simply enjoyed the intimate twining of their fingers.

“The wedding feast was nice,” Charles put in, “though I think my crew makes better
korma
.”

“Good thing you’ll be running your own restaurant soon,” Pahndir said.

“Good thing Biban is working out so well as your manager, and you’ll have plenty of time to help me start it up.”

Beth stifled her laughter. While Pahndir claimed he wanted to be a silent partner in Charles’s new venture, Charles was insisting he wanted his advice. Beth had no idea how the two perfectionists were going to rub along if Charles succeeded in involving him. She was, however, looking forward to encouraging them to work out any disagreements in bed with her.

“Herrington gave me a wedding present,” she announced on her own behalf. “He’s promoting me.”

“Is he?” Pahndir said, giving Charles a look to say their discussion of his restaurant could be tabled for later. “It’s well deserved, I’m sure.”

Beth had to snicker to herself at that. Pahndir hadn’t known her before Tou’s chamber turned her into Miss Efficiency.

“He’s still calling me his assistant,” she said out loud, “but he’s going to let me out of the copy tent. He says my, ahem, unique perspective on Queen Tou should prove helpful in developing the site as a museum. Plus, I think he likes having someone to hand off the diplomats’ wives to.”

“You do have your charming side,” Pahndir said.

“Hah!” Charles barked. “Beth thinks all her sides are charming.”

“They are,” she said, sweetly batting her eyes, “or you seemed to think so when you were kissing them last night.”

“Speaking of Herrington,” Pahndir said before Charles could toss out a comeback. “He and I had a chat after the ceremony.”

“A chat?” Beth asked, alerted to his tension by the sudden stiffness of his fingers.

“Nothing bad,” Pahndir assured her as Charles rolled to face him, too. “But possibly important for all of us. Herrington explained his theory of how he’d impregnated Roxanne’s mother, who—as you know—was human. He said she’d had intercourse with a human immediately before having it with him, and he believed there might be some enzyme in human semen that prepared her to be fertilized by Yamish seed.”

Beth discovered she was sitting up without remembering when she’d done so. “We’ve done that before, more than once, and I haven’t gotten pregnant yet.”

“Yes, we have.” Pahndir hesitated. “The problem is we don’t know how human you are. Or how Yamish. Between Charles and I, we might well get you with child.”

“You said you knew when I was fertile from reading my energy.”

“I do. Except—” Pahndir sat higher, swinging his legs around to face her. “You remember what I told you about the princes’ flagellum? How it’s an aid to conception for royals? I’ve noticed…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve noticed mine has been sensitive with both of you. I believe I may hit that stage of my development soon. If I do, it’s possible that I—with Charles’s help—could make you pregnant no matter where in your cycle you are.”

Pahndir’s face was very carefully blank, but Beth was getting better at reading his emotions even when he tried to conceal them. Her guess was that he was a little afraid to want children, but some part of him truly did.

“Your flagellum never emerged with Thallah?” she asked.

Pahndir shook his head. “Some bonded couples never experience the phenomenon, which doesn’t happen every time anyway. I suspect it’s the three of us together that’s speeding up the process for me now. Given that Charles can smell our bonding scents, he may be a kind of biochemical mate for us, perhaps a necessary catalyst. You know I’ve…always liked the feel of his seed.”

“Among other things,” Charles added with a grin. Obviously more at ease with this topic than Pahndir, he clambered onto Pahndir’s lounge chair and hugged the Yama from behind. His chin fit perfectly next to Pahndir’s ear. “I like kids, in case you were wondering. I never thought I’d have them, but I was pretty good with Max when he was little.”

“I like them, too,” Beth said. “Even monsters like your friend Xishi’s twins. And you do have all these new servants. What better way to keep them busy than chasing after a few offspring?”

“So we’re…agreed?” Pahndir said, though if anything he sounded more nervous than before.

Beth leaned forward to kiss his lips. “We’re agreed that having children is a possibility, which we’ll revisit in a year or two.”

The breath Pahndir had been holding gusted out. “A year or two sounds civilized.”

Beth tried to restrain her amusement at his relief, but Charles wasn’t quite as tactful.

“What would you do,” he teased, “if Beth had a child and then there were
three
people for you to love?”

“Faint with proper Yamish horror?” Pahndir suggested.

Beth didn’t believe for an instant that their prince wouldn’t open his heart to a child and more. Even now, he was hugging Charles’s crossed arms closer to his chest, his face tilted to the twilight, his eyes closed with rare pleasure.

Her gaze met Charles’s over Pahndir’s head, joy filling the air between them like a ringing note. This was what she’d hoped their marriage would be: a perfection of imperfections, a knot they would unravel with an endless feeling of gratitude. She loved that Charles’s knowing smile was a match for hers.

Both the humans had noticed Pahndir wasn’t even trying to hide his happiness.