Rital of Proof (32 page)

Green picked up the hormomitor she had left next to the bed. A series of beeps sounded. A small smile graced her lips. "Then again, maybe you are."

For an instant, Jorlan forgot his anger and stared at her, awestruck. "Are you—?"

"Yes. You have given me a child."

He was unnerved. She could see the warring emotions on his face. Wonder. Trepidation. A flash of speculation. Quickly followed by intense fury.

"I did not give you a child. You took it."

Green's features hardened. He had no idea of the danger they were in. She had not wanted to do such a thing, but after everything he had seen of her, he should have known she had the most important of reasons.

Not that she needed them.

He was her name-bearer; it was his duty and ordained place to give her children. An heir was vitally important to the Houses of Tamryn and Reynard.

Suddenly she was very tired. Tired of every responsibility that had been placed on her shoulders. Tired of having to make choices she abhorred. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Perhaps you do not wish my touch anymore?"

His breath stopped in his throat. "No. I did not mean that at all. I—"

She did not let him finish. "Very well, Jorlan. If that is the way you feel, you will not be bothered again."

Her meaning became clear to him. He paled, then flushed in anger. "You—you would seek pleasure
elsewhere?"

She didn't bother to answer him. Tying the sash on her robe, she left the room.

Jorlan paced the bedroom like a Klee before an arc storm.

Why? Why did she do such a thing?

Do what?
a small voice inside him asked. Act as any Marquelle would have under the circumstances?

He thought she was different! He thought she understood his beliefs. He had even half convinced himself that a part of her agreed with him. He slammed his palm against the wall, unseating an overhead urn from its place on the shelf.

He caught it in midair.

The last thing he wanted was a concerned servant checking on him at the moment. Extraordinary reflexes had been his birthright. He had just never realized why until recently.

Green would bear their child in three months—he was certain she had already taken a natal accelerator, which would shorten the human gestation period by two-thirds. Natal accelerators were the rule rather than the exception. No woman wanted to prolong her pregnancy. The state was draining and at times uncomfortable. For each month that passed, she would pass through a standard human trimester.

The by-product of the acceleration would be extreme tiredness and Green would have to take precisely balanced nutrients to sustain her own health as well as the child's.

He rubbed his forehead. He was not ready to be a father! How could he ever live his life the way he hoped? How could he effect the changes he sought within the society if he was tied down to his children? Did she not care about his feelings at all? Perhaps he had been fooling himself into thinking he was more to her than simply a man who carried her name and title. More than just brood seed to ensure her line.

Green.
A sheen of tears came into his eyes. Did she not know him at all? He loved her with every particle of his Sensitive's soul!

He always had.

There was something in him that recognized the perfect blending of their spirits—like the seasons of Forus, ever changing, yet ever constant. It was something he had only recently come to fully understand.

And it was revealed to him through their lovemaking. Their joinings were powerful and often elemental.

He thought she knew him.

Now they would be estranged.

He sat on the edge of the bed. He did not want that.

Was it so important to her house that she had to beguile him into this at this time? For the first time Jorlan wondered about that. Oh, he knew she had fastened him for that purpose—all She-Lords did.

For some strange reason Marquelle Tamryn had decided that
he
was the one to father her line. He wondered about that, too. Green had never shown the slightest inclination to fasten before meeting him. Could she have fastened him as a favor to his grandmother?

His heart sank.

She might have.

He thought she had some tender feelings for him—the proof of that was the unusual freedoms she had given him. How was he to open her to the complete love he knew they could share if she ended up banishing him to a remote Tamryn estate where he would see her only rarely?

How could he bear to think of her in the arms of another man?

Where would his child go? With him or with her?

A small lump formed in the back of his throat. Despite his objections to this, he would not want to be separated from his child.

He ran a shaking hand over his face.

Wisely, he realized that, despite his beliefs, he did not want to lose his family.

He grabbed the tumbled coverlet in his fist. It was still slightly warm from their bodies. Burying his face in the material, he inhaled the mingled scent of their passion. It covered him like the warm cloak of home. Once again he was betrayed by his nature. He could not override the longings of his heart. That heart would have to trust her.

Green took herself to the farthest reaches of the house. The topmost floor.

From there, she used her chatelaine to open a private stairwell that led to a rooftop cupola. The round room was open to the elements. In olden days, it had served as a lookout against any unknown indigenous species that might prove hostile to the settlers. None had ever made itself known. So rooms like this, called visionaries, acquired romantic reputations, for they were often used as rendezvous places by amorous She-Lords. Green had always used her visionary as a place of refuge.

She leaned against the railing and stared out at the expanse of Tamryn land.

The night sky silhouetted the peaks of the hills.

Arkeus was setting.

What she had done, she had done, in a sense, for this land. For this land and for her name-bearer.
Jorlan is the Tamryn legacy.

But had she sacrificed their happiness to protect it from the Septibunal?

She prayed not.

Her hand went tentatively to her stomach. It was n now but would not be for long. Already the first stirring of the natal accelerator was making itself known in her body. Their beloved child.

A precious life that should have been a symbol of more than the power games of state. A single tear traced its way down her cheek.

He found her in the study.

She was sitting by the flamelight, perusing a vid-tome. She did not even look up when he entered, although he knew she sensed his presence.

"Yes, what is it?" Her voice was efficient; not cold, yet devoid of warmth.

Jorlan hesitated briefly. He was not a man who generally accepted what was put before him. He took a deep breath. "I would not want you to seek pleasure elsewhere, Green."

She closed her eyes in relief, then held out her hand to him.

He came to her, dropping before her chair on his knees. "Forgive me."

She stared at him wide-eyed, not believing what she was seeing.
This
was a huge concession. He had taken the traditional stance of a contrite name-bearer before her chair.

He embraced her, enfolding her in his arms. As he spoke he covered her face with small kisses. Again, a very time-honored way of apology. "I never meant what I said to you. I can't bear to think of you in the arms of another. I—"

She covered his mouth with her own.

He lifted her out of the chair onto his own lap.
Not
traditional.

Now, that was more like the Jorlan she knew. Green smiled to herself. Her fingers reached up and combed back his long dark hair. He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"Don't ask me why, Jorlan, for I cannot tell you."

"I will not." His intense aqua gaze bored into her. "I have already reasoned that out."

He had learned to trust her. Somehow he knew that her actions had not been arbitrary. Their relationship had just taken a major step forward.

Green cupped his beautiful face and stroked the side of his firm jaw. "I know you don't like this. You have already told me it is not what you see for yourself. So, if you prefer, you can give the daily care of our child over to a scinose."

Jorlan froze.

"It is often done in the Slice."

"I would not do such a thing, Green," he said softly. "Even though this is not the entire path I seek for my life, I have always felt it the moral responsibility of fathers to care for their own children."

She held back the tears attempting to fill her eyes. He was exactly as she thought. There was a strong, caring passion within him. His rebelliousness was accompanied with a sense of honor. She had seen that when he refused to disrespect his grandmother. "You are my treasure, wilding."

Jorlan took a shaky breath. His palms cupped her face as well. "As you are mine. But, Green... "

"Yes?"

"I don't forgive you."

"I know."

The next day, Green and Avatar discussed the best course of action.

While Green wanted to return to Tamryn Hall, both agreed that would not be the wisest thing to do. Word would get out they were there and they would all be called before the Septibunal at once.

So Green elected to remain at

This new Tamryn would be the first in countless generations not to be born at Tamryn Hall.

Green dispatched a missive to Duchene Hawke informing her that she was indeed with child and indicated vague complications. That factor, she wrote, plus the situation on her estate, precluded her return for several months.

Duchene Hawke responded in couched terms that she would indicate such to the Septibunal. The hearing would be postponed.

A later missive followed confirming the postponement with the added note that She-Count D'anbere seemed especially furious with their decision to wait. Again, Green thanked the Duchene for letting her know what was happening. The woman was close to overstepping her impartiality as head of the Septibunal and Green was grateful.

So the weeks passed.

In the beginning. Green was devastatingly tired and slept a good portion of the days, waking only to eat, and to take very short walks with Avatar, who filled her in on what was happening on her estates as well as her business interests.

Jorlan, she had discovered, had an amazing acuity for the workings of the plantation and its systems; he had already laid out several new plans for the irrigation routes, designed three improved storage facilities, which would largely increase their ability to harvest and properly store the crop, thus increasing their profit yield. What was more, he had proposed that they realign their planting cycle to a table he had set forth. He claimed it to be better for the hukka, as it coincided to the rhythms of Forus.

Green had it implemented at once. When Avatar questioned her about it, she simply smiled and said, "Do it."

The crop began to flourish. As it matured under the benevolent eye of Arkeus, so did Jorlan, away from the constrictures of the Select Quarter. The gently rustling plains of the Hadley Tip awakened his sense of being. This mostly ungoverned, open land accessed his deepest nature. In the Marquelle's temporarily diminished capacity, no one questioned his role in overseeing the plantation.

In fact. Green instructed her people to listen to him as they would to her. Jorlan loved her for that, and he quickly came to love

Often, at night, he took long solitary walks across the moors. Green watched his silhouette crossing the fields, Arkeus-shine lighting his way. When he returned, late in the night, he would slip into bed, chill and damp from his excursion. He would gather her to him as she slept, letting her heat warm his bare skin.

They had to cease sexual relations until Green entered the next level of the natal acceleration, and even after that such activity would be restricted. One of the drawbacks of the natal accelerator was that almost all of a woman's energy was directed toward the growth of the fetus. Overall, it was not much of a sacrifice, since it cut the time of gestation down so drastically.

Of course, it was vital that Green take acceleration supplements. If not, the nutrients the rapidly growing child needed would be taken from her own body's store, and without such supplements the rapid growth cycle could quickly turn dangerous. Even so, the waiting was difficult for Jorlan. When he slept and his control lessened, his Sensitive's nature rose within him. The lightly perfumed scent of her skin and the brushes of her ripe body next to him made him ache. Often at night, he would awaken in a sheen of sweat. Always hard and throbbing.