Impending Reprisals (11 page)

Chapter 15

Anya was able to hold steady as Merivic took her hand and assisted her out of the carriage. He curled her arm around his and shot her a stunning smile as he led her inside, his obvious excitement with their arrival quickly infecting her. The enormity and importance of the moment swept over her as they walked through the towering doorway—at long last, she was home.

“Lord Merivic! Lady Anya!” A medium-built woman with warm brown eyes bowed as she clasped her hands together. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Lenna.” Merivic smiled at Anya as he introduced her. “This is my future wife, Anya.”

Lenna tipped her head, mouth curving as she stepped forward to take Anya’s hand. “It is an honor to serve you, Milady.”

Anya blushed, but was immediately taken by the woman—she reminded her so much of Sedalene. “It is nice to meet you, Lenna.”

Lenna gestured down the arched hallway. “Come. I have drinks for you in the hall so you might relax before dressing for dinner.”

“I will take her, Lenna. Please, draw a bath and inform us when it is ready.” Merivic glanced to Anya. “I imagine you would like to clean off the dust from the road as soon as possible.”

“Yes, that would be lovely, Lenna. Thank you.”

Merivic guided Anya to the hall and his eyes sparkled as he watched her face lift into an awe-struck expression. Her gaze fluttered around the vaulted room, studying the colorful tapestries and rich wooden panels adorning the wall, as well as the elaborate woven rugs covering the floor.

He left her standing in front of the massive hearth, staring at a large oil-painted rendering of the castle hanging above it, and retrieved their wine. Turning with glasses in hand, Merivic simply watched her as he leaned back against the table stationed on the raised dais.

Anya was a beauty even when she was weary and wind-blown. Wonder glowed from her face as she tipped her head up to admire the domed and adorned ceiling.

“Do you like it?” he asked, pushing off the table and handing her the wine.

“What is not to like? It is beautiful, Merivic. I could not have asked for a more glorious home.” She planted a kiss on his jaw.

Merivic set his glass on the hearth and turned Anya around as he unfastened her traveling cloak and lifted it off her shoulders.

“Your bath should be ready soon. Please, drink and relax. After such a long journey, you deserve as much.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his body against her back as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

Anya’s belly tightened while she rubbed her palm against his forearm, and arched her neck invitingly to the side as she took a long swallow of wine. Merivic took her invitation and lowered his mouth to her skin. Leaning into him, she sighed deeply as his arms squeezed and his lips took.

A polite throat-clearing had Merivic lifting his head to whisper in her ear. “Tonight.”

A slight quiver traveled up Anya’s spine causing Merivic to chuckle as he eased away from her.

“I apologize for the interruption. Lady Anya, your bath has been drawn.”

“Thank you, Lenna.” Anya passed her glass to Merivic, turning her back on Lenna to kiss him. “I am holding you to that promise, My Lord.”

Her emerald eyes held his, sending his body into a shudder as she caught his lip lightly between her teeth.

“Please do, Milady,” he murmured as she strode away with a snicker.

*****

Anya sunk into the warm water, the steam drifting lazily around her head. Skimming her hands across the surface, her lips curved as the rose petals rode the little waves she created.

“I never had flowers in my bath before,” she commented as Lenna drew a partially-sheer cream-colored curtain around the tub.

“I would get used to it, my child. I am to provide you with only the best. Strict orders from Lord Merivic.” She eased Anya forward as she began washing her back.

“I can wash myself, Lenna.”

“Nonsense. It is what I am here for—to see to your needs, and pamper you as much as possible.” She grinned as Anya blushed. “You will become accustomed to such treatment, Lady Anya. And you shall never have a reason to be embarrassed about it.”

“I am afraid that is easier said than done.” Anya lifted her arm as Lenna ran the soft sponge across her skin.

“Just relax as much as possible, and I will see to the rest.”

After Lenna completed her task, she stood and stowed the bathing products and sponge.

“Lie back and enjoy the warmth for a moment, Milady. I will see to selecting your attire for dinner and return to attend to you.”

“Thank you, Lenna.” Anya closed her eyes as she lay back, letting the water seep over her as her body sunk under the surface.

A faint rustling sound drew her attention toward the curtain. “Lenna?”

There was no answer as she sat up in the tub, tucking her legs to her chest. The fabric of the divider was semi-sheer, but she could see nothing on the other side—only the light reflected from the candles surrounding her.

However, she sensed someone was there.

“Lenna?” she called out a little louder. Silence was the only response she received. 

Knowing Lenna was in the next room, Anya considered her options. She could stay where she was and await Lenna’s return, or she could get out of the tub and go to her.

The quiet seemed to penetrate the room, altering it into a strained atmosphere, until Anya could take no more. Lurching to her feet, she looked around for a towel when she thought she heard another sound, almost like a quick intake of air. She froze and held still to listen more intently.

He knew she had heard him when she stopped moving altogether, and he held fast. The material separating them was sheer enough so he could see the hue of her heavenly-bronzed skin, but not the details embellishing it. Begrudgingly, he allowed himself the luxury of one more sideways gaze at the provocative silhouette being cast through the curtain. And then—fists tightened and jaw clenched—he made himself walk away, and strode down the hall.

Anya heard another rustling, then what she thought were faint footsteps.

“Milady—”

She jumped and gasped as Lenna walked into the room holding a large, plush towel.

“I apologize. I did not mean to startle you.” Lenna stepped up and wrapped the towel around her. “You poor dear, you are pale as a ghost. Come. Let us dress you before you catch a chill.”

“I thought I heard…” She was not exactly sure
what
she heard. “Was there someone else in the room?”

“No.” Lenna’s brow creased, then smoothed out. “Oh! You must have heard someone passing by. The doorway over there leads to an inner-passageway, only the most trusted is privy to its use other than Lord Merivic and yourself, but there is no door, hence, the need for this curtain.” She held Anya’s arm as she stepped out of the tub. “I believe I did see the weapon’s master walk by a moment ago. He must have been the one you heard.”

Anya nodded absently, relieved to have an explanation as she allowed Lenna to lead her into her chambers. 

*****

Merivic glanced to the doorway while he was speaking with his cleric, and his snifter of brandy suddenly held still as he was bringing it to his mouth. Stunned by her beauty, his gaze traveled the length of Anya and back up again before his mouth curved and his heart resumed its pace.

Spotting him in front of the hearth, she swept toward him, her crimson gown flowing around her slender body, creating the illusion she was gliding, not walking. Tendrils of deep auburn hair hung carelessly against the curve of her neck as the remaining mass of hair twisted and weaved in a sporadic fashion toward the back of her head.

Merivic so enjoyed when she wore her hair up, exposing her long neck, smooth shoulders, and the curl of her collarbone which always drew his gaze down to her curves. She was a beauty, a vision, the embodiment of seduction and sexuality, and she was his. Forever.

Anya held out her hands when she approached, recognizing the hunger in his gaze and allowing it to tingle through her as he grasped her fingers to pull her close. Although his lips held tension they brushed against her cheek, he remained patient and restrained, not partaking in his own indulgence in the company of another. And for that, she was grateful.

“Your gown is perfect,” he murmured against her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin.

“It is so extravagant.”

“We are celebrating your homecoming.” He ran his nose up the length of her neck and across her jaw, then whispered in her ear, “Wait until you see the meal. Nothing is too good for my betrothed.”

Easing back, Merivic wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her toward the other man. “Anya, I would like you to meet Malik, my cleric.”

Malik’s pale hand snagged hers, his cold fingers curling tight. “Lady Anya, the pleasure is mine. Truly.” His voice was low and rough.

“It is nice to meet you, Malik.” When it was reasonably polite to do so, she pulled her hand back and studied him.

Everything about him was long; his hair, face, limbs, and fingers. His white hair was pulled forward over his shoulders, contrasting against his black cowl but matching perfectly the paleness of his skin.

The corner of Malik’s mouth twitched as he looked at her with stone-gray eyes, ancient and knowledgeable, yet set in a face of unmarred youthfulness.

He speaks of contradictions and secrets, she thought.

“You see much, Lady Anya. That much is clear.”

His statement unnerved her and caused Merivic to let loose a nervous chuckle. “Now, Malik, leave the woman be. She does not need you spooking her with your mystic view of things.” He kissed Anya’s cheek. “Please, do not pay him any attention when he speaks as such. He is simply eccentric in his own way.”

Anya nodded, one slow tilt of her head as she hesitantly accepted Merivic’s words.

“Malik will be performing our wedding ceremony. Besides my cleric, he is also my…”

Anya glanced from the cleric to Merivic as he appeared to be choosing his words carefully.

Malik cast him a strange, amused expression as if curious himself as to what Merivic had to say.

Merivic smiled at Anya as he finished his thought. “I suppose you would name him as my spiritual advisor as well.”

“Dinner is ready, Sire,” a short, stocky man announced from the doorway. “Shall we bring the food in?”

Merivic waved his hand at the table. “Yes. Proceed.”

Anya’s eyes darted to the table and she took it all in. In her excitement to join Merivic, she had not even noticed the elaborately set table on the dais in the alcove.

It had a crisp-looking white tablecloth and was covered with crystal glasses, bowls, and plates, and was sprinkled with shiny silver utensils and candle-holders. The flames of the candles made everything sparkle, and the light from the low chandeliers above it, captured the entire alcove in a soft, gentle light.

“It is beautiful, Merivic. It looks so warm and inviting, nestled in the alcove that way. So…intimate.” She leaned her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm tighter.

“Intimate sounds good,” he murmured. “But just so you know, Malik will be joining us this evening.”

“Yes, I hope you do not mind. I requested an audience with you so we might get better acquainted before the wedding, and, more importantly, before the promising ceremony,” Malik explained. “I feel it is important,”

Anya glanced at him, curiously. “Promising ceremony?”

“We can talk about it over dinner,” Merivic stated as he guided Anya toward the dais.

During their approach, the kitchen staff buzzed through the door and around the table at a brisk pace, leaving mouth-watering scents and succulent-looking food in their wake. Merivic held Anya’s hand as she stepped up, then helped her in her chair before sitting comfortably at the head of the table.

Malik, Anya noted, all but slithered into his seat, an air of dark mystery settling around him as he sat opposite her.

Over a meal of tender, juicy meat and fresh vegetables, Merivic and Malik spoke casually of the happenings around the kingdom during the past few months. Nothing of any urgency or importance—those events would have been passed along to Merivic by messenger on the road—but merely about the people in the castle and the occurrences there within.

Anya studied Malik closely while they were engrossed in their conversation. Due to his sharp eyes and tall, lanky stature, she easily came to the conclusion he was more brain than brawn. Even as he engaged in such a simple subject matter, she could tell he was thinking, calculating and mulling things over in his mind like a puzzle in desperate need of reassembling. And the constant lift to his mouth, as if he knew the answer to some unspoken riddle, confounded her as much as it added to his secretive disposition.

The man left her unsettled, both with his overall appearance and with his manner toward her as well, for as much as she was considering him, he was watching her in turn—sometimes openly, sometimes shrouded-like in nature—but always attentively.

She could not deny, however, that Merivic was more than comfortable around Malik, and obviously trusted him implicitly. She would have to trust Merivic’s judgment and find it within herself to accept him as eccentric, and nothing more.