Impending Reprisals (14 page)

His gaze snapped to hers. “How is that possible?”

“You tell me.”

“And you slipped the potion in his dinner?”

“As always.” She leaned her back against the altar, resting her elbows upon it. “Maybe he has built a tolerance over the past couple of years.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps not.”

“Maybe the spell wore off.”

“That is a very powerful spell.”

“There must be some explanation.” She shrugged, craning her neck to look down at the scroll.

“I will need to look into this and concoct a stronger one.”

Zabela eased her body between Malik and the altar. “Is it all truly necessary? If he is a threat to Lord Merivic’s ascension, why not get rid of him and be done with it?”

“Because Lord Merivic cannot ascend if he does not marry Lady Anya, and I have foreseen that Kaelestis is instrumental in preserving her safety. Therefore, I cannot be rid of Kaelestis without risking the girl, and yet I cannot have him around and risk him interfering with their union.”

She walked her fingers up his arms. “So why must I bed him? How does that help?”

“I do not know in what capacity he is a threat, and it was the only way I could foresee keeping him distracted from the union.” 

Zabela ran her hands across his shoulders. “Maybe you should tell Merivic of the threat.”

“Never, he cannot know. He would have my head.”

She donned an exasperated expression as she cocked her head.

“All right,” he amended, “perhaps not my head, but he would be quite displeased by this. I told him Kaelestis was the proper choice.”

Zabela nodded as she slithered up against him, suddenly quite bored with the conversation. But she could tell Malik’s mind was still racing through it, even has he gripped her hips and yanked her close.

“This business with Kaelestis… It is a sticky situation, one that requires a sharp mind and a measure of finesse.”

She smiled with satisfaction as his fingers began unbuttoning the back of her dress. “You are enjoying yourself with all this union business.”

He tugged her dress down around her shoulders and it fell to her waist. Bowing her back, he trailed his tongue across her neck. “How could I not?”

Zabela issued a husky laugh as she teasingly pulled away, wiggling out of the rest of her dress.” Take me on the altar.”

She eased up on the edge of it as his eyes gleamed wickedly, and then he advanced. Her breath caught as he touched her, as he took her. She loved the feel of his icy fingers on her hot flushed skin, the sensation so numbingly cold that it burned like a delicious frostbite.

“More,” she whimpered as the world blurred around her.

Chapter 19

Merivic shoved his bowl away and leaned back in his chair, staring out the garden doors across the way. A thought unfolded in his mind, a kind gesture that warmed his heart and caused his lips to curve.

“Sire?” Zabela approached the table. “Your men await you out front, My Lord.”

He waved a hand as he stood. “They will wait. I have something I need to attend to first.”

She bowed in acknowledgement and left to pass along the message.

Merivic strode the length of the great hall and into the garden, stepping to the thick growth of pale-lavender flowers he had been staring at from the table. They were undefined, like a loosely-wadded piece of thin parchment with soft edges. He picked them, counting out fourteen as he arranged them in such a way as to not crush the delicate blossoms.

Glancing around, he scanned the immediate area for something to complement the bundle he already carried. Not seeing anything that caught his eye, he wandered further into the garden, weaving around massive planters and several fountains. Finally, he spotted the perfect flower.

It was deep in color; a lustrously rich purple, extending across the large teardrop-shaped petals. And from the center, a crimson-red spout poked through, a splendid focal point to an already spectacular sight.

He picked one, tucking it in the center of the bouquet before turning to head back. After a step, he paused and smiled, turning back to pick one more.

Satisfied, he strolled through the great hall and into the cookery. “Zabela, I need a vase.”

She jumped, surprised by his presence. “Certainly, My Lord.” Flustered, she quickly scanned the cabinets before locating a beautifully-cut crystal vase. She filled it with water and brought it to him.

Merivic tucked the flowers in, lightly arranging them so the two dark flowers were surrounded by the pale blossoms.

“What a lovely thought, Sire.” Zabela flashed him a smile when he glanced up at her.

“Do you think she will like them?”

“Of course, My Lord. What woman does not like flowers?”

“True enough, I suppose. Thank you for the vase.” He lifted it from her hands and headed upstairs.

As he rounded the corner toward Anya’s room, he nearly collided with Kael.

“Pardon me, My Lord. I was not watching where I was going.” He glanced down at the flowers. “She will like those.”

“Yes, that is the prevailing thought. You are showing her around today, are you not?” 

“I am, Sire.” He nodded, then added dryly, “That is, if she ever decides to join me downstairs.”

Merivic chuckled. “I will see to it she hurries along.” He smiled at his weapons master then held his head high, serious contemplation overtaking mirth. “I feel I must thank you, Kaelestis, for everything you have sacrificed for her. For us. Please, if you should ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I am indebted to you and the service you provide —not to mention for my peace of mind.” He tipped his head respectfully.

Kaelestis was dumbfounded for a moment, not because Merivic’s graciousness surprised him, but because he felt guilt with his words. If the lord knew the thoughts brewing in Kael’s mind regarding his future bride, he certainly would not look upon him so kindly.

“I am simply doing my job, Sire. Please, think nothing of it.” He bowed low. “If you will excuse me, I must ensure our horses are ready.”

“Be safe, Kaelestis, and see to it she enjoys herself.”

“Certainly, My Lord.”

Merivic rapped his knuckles on Anya’s chamber door.

Lenna’s muffled voice hollered, “Do not enter!” A moment later she jerked open the door with a huff and a glare, immediately taken aback when she saw the lord. “My apologies, Sire! I thought it was Kaelestis nagging us once again to hurry. Such a pest that boy is!”

“Now Lenna, I am sure he just wants to ensure everything stays on schedule. Knowing him as I do, the whole day is probably planned so they return before dusk. It would do no good to be outside the castle walls when night arrives.”

“You are right, My Lord.” She bowed, but then wiggled a finger at him. “But you also must never, ever rush a lady. It is rude.”

Knowing he had just been scolded on behalf of his gender, and forewarned to boot, he assured her with his response. “I understand, Lenna. And Anya will have nothing but my patience and upmost respect at all times, no matter what.”

She smirked, then gazed at the flowers, eyes widening. “Yes, well I see we understand each other. I will leave you two alone while I see to the final preparations for their outing. Do take your time, Sire.” Lenna closed the door behind her with a sly grin.

Merivic scanned the room, spotting Anya sitting at the vanity in the corner fussing with her hair. “You cannot improve perfection,” he stated as he strode up and kissed her cheek.

“You are biased,” Anya said, a measure of irritation still clinging from the night before. She briefly glanced at Merivic, then quickly brought her eyes back as her breath caught. “Oh! Look at these.” She stood and took the vase, holding the blossoms under her nose as she inhaled deeply. She set the arrangement on the vanity. “I do not think I have ever smelled anything so sweet.”

Merivic slipped his hands onto Anya’s hips and nuzzled her neck, chasing away the remainder of her annoyance with his warm lips. “I know I have.”

She giggled as she drew him into a tight hug. “Thank you for the flowers. Such a delight—I did not even know rhododendrons could be purple. They are wonderful.”

“I thought the arrangement was good representation.”

She pulled back to look at him. “Of what?”

“The beginning of our life together.” He tipped his chin toward the overflowing vase. “There are fourteen lavender ones, representing each day you spent on the road to the castle. And the blossoming dark ones represent your arrival home—one for yesterday, and one for today.”

Anya’s mouth curved into a brilliant smile. “Are you going to give me a flower each day then?”

“I just might, and you would deserve no less.” He ran his hands down her arms and gave her hands a quick squeeze. “Well. I will not keep you. Are you ready to go?”

Anya nodded as she smoothed down her long hair, and lightly tugged and altered the tunic she wore. “I feel silly dressed such as this.”

Merivic glanced from her long auburn curls to her black boots. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Again, you are biased. I do not remember the last time I wore pants. My father always insisted on dresses—not always elaborate ones, but dresses none the less.” She adjusted the shoulders of her tunic. “Kael told Lenna to dress me this way, so I would not draw attention to myself.”

“If Kael says it is necessary, then it is necessary. He is a wise man, Anya, and knows his station well. Please, be sure to listen to him. Heed any warnings he issues, and stay close at all times.”

“I know. I will.”

He cupped her face and brushed his lips against hers. “I must travel to a neighboring city today, but I will be back in time to join you for dinner.”

“That would be lovely.” She melted as his mouth met hers again. “We have not had an evening alone together since…” She quickly scanned back through her memories, then flushed. “Ah, it has been awhile.”

“Yes, it has.” Merivic smiled knowingly as he led her to the door, also remembering the last time they were alone together.

And what a night it had been.

*****

Gerhard walked out of the barbican and spotted Kael double-checking the security of the bridles and saddles of the two horses equipped for travel.

“Do you not trust the stable boy, Kael?”

He glanced at his friend. “I have the time, therefore I may as well be thorough.”

“Appears to be a diversion to me.” He watched Kael’s actions with only a mild interest, and paid far more attention to the set of his jaw and the narrowness of his eyes. “You are nervous.”

Kael’s brow creased. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Remember who you are speaking with, my friend. I know what you once felt for her.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Apparently not long enough.” Gerhard sighed as he walked around to the other side of the horse and checked the straps. “I will never understand why you left.”

“I could trust no one else to the task.”

“Thank you for the confidence.”

Scowling, Kael snapped, “I did not know you then! Of course you would have seen to her safety just as well as I ever could.”

Gerhard laughed and shook his head. “It was meant in jest, Kael. She does have you all twisted about, that much is clear.”

“She does at that,” Kael muttered, jerking hard at the saddle to test its sturdiness.

“Is it the fact she did not wait for you, or the fact she is here now that vexes you?”

“One in the same—if she had waited for my return, she would not be here now.”

“Ah, but she did not know you would have returned if she
had
waited.”

“And that vexes me, too.” Kael dropped his hands and looked up at his friend. “If she had known, would she have waited?” He shrugged off the thought. “It does not matter now.”

Gerhard walked around the horse. “Let me know if it gets to be too much for you. I can take a few shifts if you need a reprieve.”

“Thank you, Gerhard, but I will not put the burden on you when it is mine alone to carry.”

“What burden? It would be nothing at all for me to throw her in a dungeon for awhile, keep an eye on her. She would be safe there, and I might even enjoy the scene myself.”

Kael glared, then laughed despite himself. “Only a true friend would make such a suggestion. I thank you for your loyalty.”

Gerhard clapped him on the back. “Do not let her aggravate you so, my brother.”

Kael nodded his agreement as Anya approached.

“Enjoy your travels, Milady,” Gerhard stated, arrogantly, before strolling away.

Anya glared after him, hot anger steaming to the surface.

“Are you finally ready to depart?” Kael asked, amused by Gerhard’s ability to irk her so, but masking his reaction behind a stern front.

She turned to him. “What is bothering you?”

“I apologize if I am brusque,” he commented, his tone showing no remorse whatsoever. “But I have been waiting for quite a long time.” He swung up into the saddle and stared down at her.

Anya stood silent, studying him and attempting to gauge the thoughts behind his words.

“Do you require assistance in mounting your horse?”

The condescension was clear, and it knocked Anya’s defenses up another notch. She hitched her leg over and settled in. “You know damn well I can ride a horse.”

Kael smirked. “Such language you use, Lady Anya. Hardly appropriate for royalty.”

“Have your fun if you will, Kael. But do remember who you are dealing with. I do not suppose you have changed so much in the past two years that I cannot determine the best way to get your goat if pushed to my limits.” She watched his deep blue eyes turn cold. “And stop with the ‘Lady’ nonsense,” she grumbled.

“Now that we know where we stand, shall we go?”

Anya shrugged easily as if she could not care less, but directed the horse toward the barbican, following Kael’s lead.

Kael led her around the city, showing her the layout and the various public buildings and social gathering places. They blended easily with the people; both dressed as middle-class citizens and with the appearance as if they had a specific course in mind. Although they did not stop anywhere—Kael insisted it could invite too much trouble—Anya was overwhelmed by all there was to see.

Decessus was easily five times as large as Liberwood, and had such variance contained within it. There were vastly different classes and sections of the city, as well as socially acceptable practices contained within each section—whereas one area of the city would rather burn than wear anything than their very best, another area had men in soiled shirts and women in torn pants. Another instance was in regards to public affection—the well-to-do areas showed none, while the less socially structured parts practically flaunted it.

And to Kael’s discomfort, Anya noted.

“What is wrong, Kael?” she asked lightly as they passed a couple pressed together against the side of a building. “You act as if you have never been a part of a public display.” With a hint of simmering jealously, she thought back to when he grabbed Zabela in the hall.

Kael straightened his back, and clarified in a hard tone, “Alone in a meadow, where no one could see us, would hardly constitute a public display.” He realized his error when her eyes widened and her face flushed.

“I was not…” Anya trailed off and turned her head, unsure of what to say and unable to stop all the memories of their moments together in
their
meadow. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I was not speaking of us.”

Demeaned by his own response and eager to get past it, Kael began to ask what she had meant by her comment, but then decided it was better left as is. Who knew what other thoughts he would give away during these casual conversations and light banter? He must be more careful than this. “I will show you the surrounding areas and the woods next. We will have our lunch when we get there.”