The Pages of the Mind (25 page)

The orgasm took me harder than I expected, my vision going momentarily dark, the spinning in my head from Nakoa lowering me to the bed again, cozying me in his arms. I started to roll onto my back, expecting the rest, but he stilled me. The tang of disappointment also surprised me.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“Too sore.” He stroked my cheek. “We have all the prosperous future.”

Thrice-damn me and my guilt. We'd had full intercourse only the once. I'd been relieved the night before, especially as the sting of my torn tissues made themselves known. We'd played several games of
kiauo
—and I nearly won twice. But then we'd simply gone to sleep, Nakoa seeming as drowsy as I.

Now I wanted that again, him inside me and our bodies joined. If only to stop the plaguing thoughts that I would inevitably wound him when I left. Something he'd just as inevitably take as a betrayal, though I'd never asked for any of this.

Still, his cock thrust against my thigh, large and hot—and the prospect of it abrading me again did seem like a bit much. Curious, as I hadn't had the opportunity to explore him as he had me, I pushed away from him and dragged the sheet down, the sheer white cloth a lovely backdrop for his dark skin. Bemused, Nakoa watched me, willingly rolling onto his back when I nudged him, then closed his eyes with a groan when I wrapped my hand around his shaft.

It probably wasn't appropriate to be taking mental notes, but his organ fascinated me. So long and hard, compared to my oyster and pearl. His skin was even silkier there, moving subtly in my grip over the turgid tissues beneath. My fingers barely encompassed his girth and I marveled anew that he'd fit inside me, knowing what I did of my own shape and size. But then, I'd watched Ami give birth, the babies' heads far larger. A woman's channel was meant to stretch, it seemed.

Looser, more ruffled skin like my own sex, covered the head, easily pulled back to reveal the darker, slicked skin beneath. I checked Nakoa's expression to be sure I wasn't hurting him, though he hadn't moved to stop me, and the set, even tense expression arrested me. “Painful?” I asked and his eyes flew open, the black as hard and bright as diamonds.

“Not how you mean,” he said, voice rough.

Encouraged, I rolled the skin down to expose him, running a fingertip over the pearly seed that swelled from the slit at the top. Curious, I tasted it with a flick of my tongue and Nakoa rumbled, his hand coming up to tangle in my hair. I tried it again, swirling my tongue over him as he'd done to me, judging my success at pleasuring him by the tightening of his fingers. But I wanted to do it right, to give him what I could in bed, so he'd have some pleasant memories of me, to compete with the sour. I shouldn't care, but I did.

“Have you done this before?” I asked, and he nodded carefully. I had to kick aside the ridiculous flare of jealousy at imaging the lovely Nahanaun girls doing this for him. “Show me what to do.”

Gently, he wrapped his hand over mine on his shaft, showing me how to move it up and down, much harder than I had been, all the while watching me with his obsidian gaze. “And this?” I asked, using my tongue.

With a light touch, he held my hair and thrust farther into my mouth, so my lips surrounded him. I sucked him in deeper and he made a growling sound, his hips flexing. I couldn't get him far into my mouth, but the more I did the more he liked it, his palm going hot over my hand as I stroked up and down, no longer guiding me, more hanging on. He thrummed under my touch and I tasted the giddy sense of power at having him thus harnessed.

“
Mlai
,” he gasped, body going tense, fingers going tight in my hair almost painfully—except that the pull shot straight to my groin, already aroused again from ministering to him. No wonder he hadn't minded so much, those evenings he'd played my body and received no satisfaction in return. In response, knowing how it had felt for me, I intensified my efforts.

He climaxed, calling my name, hips and thighs bucking beneath me, much as I'd done only a bit ago. His seed spilled salt and sweet across my tongue, tasting like another variation of his skin, of new life and the fertile sea.

Letting go of my hair, he seized my arms and dragged me up along his body, bringing me to his mouth like he would a goblet, kissing me with a passionate fervor that left me shaken. He'd taste himself on my lips and tongue—but then so would I my own body. An odd realization, but it seemed right, that we would intertwine in this way. A way I'd never imagined possible for myself.

I returned the kiss, drowning in him, threading my fingers through his hair as he'd done with me, holding him captive and close. All mine. He held me with same fierce zeal.

For once, we understood each other perfectly well.

23

A
preemptory knock sounded on the chamber doors, somehow so essentially Inoa that I snorted out a laugh. Nakoa grinned in response, shaking his head in some exasperation, but he also gave me one last kiss and, tucking the sheet around me, got out of bed and donned his
kylte
. Glancing at me to be sure I was ready, he unlocked the door, stepping aside for an impatient Inoa and a stream of ladies bearing various burdens—including more buckets of water for another bath. Sticky again, I would not refuse that.

She kissed him on one cheek, patted the other, and told him to go to some other place I hadn't heard of before to bathe and ready for the day. The tones she used sounded like she anticipated it would be a long one, and not happily so. Nakoa endured her instructions with his usual affectionate patience, but didn't leave immediately. Instead he brought me a fresh garland, cupping the back of my head and kissing me deeply after placing it around my neck. With my body so freshly roused from the recent play, my heart accelerated and I had to restrain a moan of desire. Nakoa pulled away with a pleased—and mischievous—smile, so I thumped his chest.

“Oh, go on,” I muttered, not dimming his smile one iota.

He stopped to kiss Inoa on the cheek, and left the room in great good humor, singing a cheerful tune even as his guard snapped to attention outside. The door closed and Inoa turned to me with an expression of gladness, clasping her hands together and bowing deeply.

“Thank you, my queen, for all you've given us. The future is gloriously bright.”

I shifted, uncomfortable with her gratitude. I hadn't done a thing but indulge in an amazing sexual encounter with the most compelling man I'd ever met. One I intended to walk away from as soon as I could secure my freedom. Leaving the sheets behind, resolved not to give the bloodstains on them another thought, I climbed into the tub and sank in, thanking the maid who offered even more hot water.

It felt good to soak and even better when one of the ladies expertly washed my hair. It seemed to be longer, though that shouldn't be possible. They toweled me dry and rubbed oil into my skin. Apparently the tending hadn't been all due to my invalid status. Once again, Inoa and her ladies fell into a pattern of friendly chatter, assuming I could not understand. Much of it, in truth, I couldn't quite parse, as they did not attempt to go slowly or choose words I already knew, as Nakoa so thoughtfully did. They also spoke in a less formal, more casual shorthand, what I interpreted as familiar language.

Mostly they discussed the events of the day before, and the interminable challenge of entertaining so many guests. Chief Tane seemed to be spreading dissent, something that annoyed Inoa greatly. There was a continued problem of some islands being out of contact, again a mention of birds.

None of them had any doubt over what had happened between Nakoa and me. The dragon flew in the sky, which heralded the return of a golden era. That last using the same word and intonation I interpreted as “beautiful.” Several of the women commented on my great good luck, and I tried not to contemplate which of those casting me envious glances from their liquid dark eyes had been ones to taste Nakoa as I had—or to tutor him into knowing how to pleasure a woman's body so well. A ridiculously possessive concern to have—and not at all like me. Particularly regarding a man I had no intention of keeping. I knew well that jealousy was a sign of insecurity, but then . . . I'd never been all that secure in the realm of sex. Or men. Might as well face that.

Still, I wished I knew what drew Nakoa to me. Magic? Fate? Something else entirely? Such a stretch to believe he'd recognized me on the ship because he'd somehow seen me before. And that he'd sent me rain so I could live, three decades before. Andi was able to scry long-distance, and into the future, but she'd never said how that worked. She had recognized Harlan from visions, however.

Possible, I supposed, that a wizard king who could make it rain could also have seen me from afar.

Though that still didn't address why me, some orphan girl of a minor noble family of a people and culture entirely different from his own. If we were connected, how could that be?

Perhaps Akamai could assist. Surely something in the library would give some clues. I made a mental list of where I'd look first, as soon as the ladies set me free.

But it was not to be, alas—which became rapidly clear as the ladies laid out what I was to wear. Apparently I'd advanced to a new level, a further step from my former self, and deeper into Nakoa's world. All the better to immerse myself, I kept in mind, stilling the uneasiness as the ladies dressed me in a light skirt of copper silk panels that hung low on my hips, caught there by a girdle of golden chains. They gave me breast plates of a similar shade, tooled with intricate scales, along with arm and ankle bands of twining dragons, much like Nakoa's.

While two of the ladies set to work decorating my hands and feet with a red-black dye, drawing intricate designs on me, Inoa herself brushed my hair, attempting one of the elaborate braids I'd seen on some of the other women.

“Like silk,” she said, both admiring and frustrated as the fine stuff slipped away from her efforts. “Pretty, but too short, yes? It will grow.”

“Perhaps in the prosperous future,” I agreed, to keep her happy. I knew well how impossible my hair was to style, which was why I never let it get past shoulder length. It always immediately fell out of any coil I tried to put it in. Eventually Inoa gave up, settling for weaving in flowers that matched my garland.

“King Nakoa KauPo says you can walk?” She spoke slowly and formally, frowning in earnest concentration. I nearly broke down and let her know that I could understand better than she thought, but circumspection won out. I learned a great deal from listening to their conversations. Look at me—perhaps I made a decent spy after all.

“Yes, thank you, Inoa.” I started to bow to her, partly to expatiate my guilt and apologize for the injury she had no idea I gave her.

She stopped me, though. “No, no! Queen.” She raised her eyebrows significantly and bowed deeply to me. “See?”

Inoa showed me the final result in a mirror the ladies brought carefully in, the frame distinctly Dasnarian in design. A precious import, then. The image in it looked equally exotic. Though I was still fair-skinned in comparison to the Nahanauns, and despite the days spent indoors recuperating, I'd tanned a fair amount, my skin a golden brown shades lighter than my hair, though my freckles remained darker points. The gold jewelry echoed similar sunstreaks in my hair, my brown eyes that had always been unremarkable picking up the shimmer of amber, eerily evoking a memory of the dragon, sailing silently down the volcanic air. I looked as wild and barbaric as Nakoa—and perhaps as queenly as I'd badgered Ursula into looking.

Advanced in rank due to one night of wild sex. The way of the world in some places, but still it rankled. I'd done nothing like my true queens had done to deserve their kingdoms. They could dress me up as a queen, but I would still be an imposter.
You are no queen.

I'm having a big piece of jewelry stuck on my head
, Ursula had said before the coronation. The one I'd meticulously crafted for dramatic effect on every level. Could she have felt this, too? She'd stared at herself in the mirror so long, so soberly, much like this. Looking for the truth of it in herself. Or seeing the lie in it.

I insisted on adding the knife belt Jepp had given me but allowed Inoa to adjust it so the drape fell along the same lines as the golden girdle. The only splash of red in the metallic scheme, the ruby seemed to be the one note that anchored me to home, to where I truly belonged.

Inoa accompanied me as we walked through the corridors, soon bound in a new direction that I suspected would be where Nakoa held court. Everyone we passed bowed deeply to me, making gestures of reverence and joy, murmuring blessings all shaded with tones conveying fruitfulness and prosperity.

How long before Ursula's ships would arrive? Days more, at best. It had taken us that long to get here and we'd moved far faster than most groups could, plus the weather would only have gotten worse. The
Hákyrling
had been gone three days—it could be that they still worked on navigating the barrier. Zynda might not have even made it to Annfwn yet. I could be playing this role for weeks more, Nakoa working his devastating magic on me every night. By the time rescue arrived, I might believe the lie.

What was I going to do?

We entered an open-air hall, the grandest I'd yet seen, formed primarily of a thin gold-and-copper arching roof, held up by pillars of carved obsidian. All dragons, in various sinuous poses. People—all of higher rank, by their clothing and jewelry—stood assembled, grouped in various contingents according to the colors they wore. They bowed in a rippling wave as I entered, Inoa falling back to trail behind me.

At the front of the hall, Nakoa stood from a throne woven of living vines and branches, all in flower. The typically stern lines of his face radiated pride and affection as I walked toward him, uncomfortably aware of how like and not like Ordnung's throne room this was. If any of those courtiers saw me at this moment, they'd shout me down for being presumptuous, for rising above my station.
Little better than a servant.
More than one person, even Ami, had said as much. For it was the simple truth.

As I drew closer, I spotted Akamai, seated at a table near the companion throne to Nakoa's, my journal and other papers neatly stacked there. He gave me a deep obeisance, driving home the irony of the moment. I should be sitting at that table, taking notes and observing the goings on, not . . . whatever I'd be doing.

As they'd all clearly waited on my arrival.

Nakoa took my hand and guided me to the throne on his right. With my back to everyone else, I gave him a suspicious frown, which he ignored, settling me in my seat and keeping my hand in his. The chairs were truly works of art. Ursula's had been carved to look like this, but these seemed to grow out of the ground. The floor, of inlaid wood in intricate patterns that mimicked dragon scales, radiated out from the sturdy trunks, densely interwoven, but seemingly rooted in actual soil.

Irreverently, especially considering how solemn the occasion seemed to be, I wondered about the servant assigned the task of watering and grooming the thrones. Near the hand not held by Nakoa, a blossom like those in my garland fluttered in some wayward draft, the ruffled petals moving almost like the wings of a butterfly. If only I could snatch my journal from Akamai and take a moment to sketch it.

But no. Far less enjoyable, Chief Tane stepped up before the thrones. He dipped in a bow that barely met the demands of their usual customs, his demeanor polite on the surface but seething beneath. I'd had no opportunity to discuss strategy ahead. If Nakoa wanted me up here playing queen, then he'd have to spend some time filling me in on the politics.

“King Nakoa KauPo,” Tane began in a ringing voice, one he apparently loved the sound of.

“And Queen Dafne Nakoa KauPo,” Nakoa corrected, steel in his tone that he'd lacked the day before. I risked a quick glance at him. Though his grip on my hand remained relaxed, even gently protective, his expression had gone as thunderous as I'd ever seen. Enough that I must have flinched, because he turned his head slightly to take my measure, then lightly stroked the hand he held.

Tane had more spine than I, because he added the greeting to me without missing a step, and with no apologetic tones. “What assurance do you bring that . . .”

I began to lose the thread of his remarks, though I picked out that he spoke of me and the dragon. More about tests of the ancestors. Missing islands. Important information for me to understand—and I needed to devote my mind to parsing a strategic response, not verb tense. Having enough of this, I gestured Akamai to my side. Tane paused, puffing in affront, though I'd been subtle in my movement. In Ordnung, such a thing would have caused no offense. Had I misstepped?

I looked to Nakoa, who only watched me with interest. The tamped-volcanic fury there behind his opaque gaze still, but not focused at me.

“Akamai will translate for me,” I told him quietly enough that no one but the three of us could overhear. Not sure how Nakoa would take his secret being revealed, but figuring I'd be better off for laying it on the table. “Via Dasnarian. Subject to your . . . pleasure,” I substituted, not certain of the phrasing for acknowledging his ultimate authority to deny me.

A glimmer of warmth showed in his eyes, the human variety rather than the harder, volcanic kind, and he bent his head close to mine. “You are my pleasure,
mlai
.” He turned back to Tane and gestured to him to continue. Considering the permission implicit, I beckoned Akamai closer and he began whispering the translation.

Between Tane's oratorical embellishments—he was making quite the speech—and Akamai's less than perfectly fluent Dasnarian, this method fell short of ideal, but I got more than I would have otherwise. Tane acknowledged that Nakoa and I had attracted the dragon, but he questioned our ability to keep her from “going wild,” which I took to mean rampaging through the population. Fortunate for me to have a delay on processing that accusation, as I had no idea how to tame or restrain a dragon. Or what one ate. Meat, certainly, but . . . human? Big as she was, wouldn't she need a lot of food, as in big animals?

Tane went on, citing a long list of trials in Nakoa's kingdom, reminding me very much of the Aerron ambassador Laurenne's propensity for waxing on in excruciating detail about her kingdom's woes. Not that she wasn't justified, but she seemed to think that repeating the information enough times would produce the result she wanted. Perhaps it had, as Ursula's first request of Andi had been to send rain to Aerron.