the low central table, poured and drank. She told them of Rozite's disobedience and her own adventure in a few succinct words.
“So where did you stash this thief?” Stone peered around the room, as if suspecting her of hiding him in a corner.
Leyja scowled, slamming her cup down hard enough to dent the thin metal. “He got away."
Everyone stared, shocked. No one escaped Leyja, unless they were very, very good indeed.
Kallista sighed. “I suppose we should see about getting a copy of the necklace made. Rozite will be impossible if she never gets the thing back."
“See if he brings it for ransom first.” Leyja collapsed onto the nearest divan, sprawled out in weariness. “I offered."
“You think he understood?” Stone collapsed next to her.
Leyja shrugged. “At least, since it's been confiscated, I'll have time to find it before I have to tell Rozite I got her necklace stolen."
“Rozite got her own necklace stolen by wearing it when she was told not to.” Kallista perched on the edge of a round upholstered stool. “But you're right. It's been taken up. She doesn't have to know it's missing. Not yet."
She sighed. The diversion was over. “While we have a moment to ourselves—” She tried to sound casual, but knew she failed miserably when every head turned toward her, every body tensed, drifted closer. They all sat, as if awaiting some news too awful to receive standing.
“We have to be careful,” she said. “You know how things are here, without iliani."
“We know. Believe me, we know.” Stone made a face, eliciting a few chuckles. “I don't like sleeping alone. And I especially don't like doing without—"
At Kallista's upraised hand, he broke off, changed direction. “Without other things,” he finished.
“We're alone in this room, but how alone are we?” She indicated the room with its pierced stone tracery and wall hangings that servants were meant to lurk behind. “We brought as many servants with us as we could, as we needed for the journey, but more were hired locally. Every one of those local servants is a Daryathi spy—perhaps not bearing tales to the en-Kameral, but to their neighbors, their local prelate. Tales about the scandalous behavior of wicked Adarans. We need to be careful. More than we are used to being. More than we have been."
“Goddess.” Torchay swore a few more choice oaths. “It was me, wasn't it? I did it. I said—I called you—I'm sorry, Kallista. I didn't think—” That one word, one endearment— love —at the wrong time could ruin everything.
“No, you didn't think—” Obed stopped when Kallista touched his arm.
She spoke for his ear alone. “It's going to be hard enough. Don't make it worse."
Obed put on that perfect blank-face he did so well, hiding his emotions, but he subsided. Kallista couldn't read anything through the link either. Having grown up in Daryath, Obed had struggled with jealousy from the beginning. Jealousy that tended to focus on Torchay because of the years the bodyguard had spent at her side before ever the godmarked magic struck. Would it become a problem again?
She looked up at Torchay. She wanted to hold him, tell him his mistake didn't matter, that he could call her “love” all he wanted. But it did matter, and he couldn't call her that or any other sweet name, couldn't touch her even in passing because if he did, she would be touching him back, and more. She sent as much love down the link to him as she could.
“We have to remember at every moment that things are different here. We might be able to share quarters because we are bound as godmarked, but here, we cannot all be married together.” She kept her voice quiet, reinforced the sense of what she said through the links. She couldn't speak through the links, save to Joh when she was seeing through his eyes, or when the others were dreaming together with her, but she could send a sort of knowledge. “Here, we are paired ."
And the pairing made things
“So where did you stash this thief?” Stone peered around the room, as if suspecting her of hiding him in a corner.
Leyja scowled, slamming her cup down hard enough to dent the thin metal. “He got away."
Everyone stared, shocked. No one escaped Leyja, unless they were very, very good indeed.
Kallista sighed. “I suppose we should see about getting a copy of the necklace made. Rozite will be impossible if she never gets the thing back."
“See if he brings it for ransom first.” Leyja collapsed onto the nearest divan, sprawled out in weariness. “I offered."
“You think he understood?” Stone collapsed next to her.
Leyja shrugged. “At least, since it's been confiscated, I'll have time to find it before I have to tell Rozite I got her necklace stolen."
“Rozite got her own necklace stolen by wearing it when she was told not to.” Kallista perched on the edge of a round upholstered stool. “But you're right. It's been taken up. She doesn't have to know it's missing. Not yet."
She sighed. The diversion was over. “While we have a moment to ourselves—” She tried to sound casual, but knew she failed miserably when every head turned toward her, every body tensed, drifted closer. They all sat, as if awaiting some news too awful to receive standing.
“We have to be careful,” she said. “You know how things are here, without iliani."
“We know. Believe me, we know.” Stone made a face, eliciting a few chuckles. “I don't like sleeping alone. And I especially don't like doing without—"
At Kallista's upraised hand, he broke off, changed direction. “Without other things,” he finished.
“We're alone in this room, but how alone are we?” She indicated the room with its pierced stone tracery and wall hangings that servants were meant to lurk behind. “We brought as many servants with us as we could, as we needed for the journey, but more were hired locally. Every one of those local servants is a Daryathi spy—perhaps not bearing tales to the en-Kameral, but to their neighbors, their local prelate. Tales about the scandalous behavior of wicked Adarans. We need to be careful. More than we are used to being. More than we have been."
“Goddess.” Torchay swore a few more choice oaths. “It was me, wasn't it? I did it. I said—I called you—I'm sorry, Kallista. I didn't think—” That one word, one endearment— love —at the wrong time could ruin everything.
“No, you didn't think—” Obed stopped when Kallista touched his arm.
She spoke for his ear alone. “It's going to be hard enough. Don't make it worse."
Obed put on that perfect blank-face he did so well, hiding his emotions, but he subsided. Kallista couldn't read anything through the link either. Having grown up in Daryath, Obed had struggled with jealousy from the beginning. Jealousy that tended to focus on Torchay because of the years the bodyguard had spent at her side before ever the godmarked magic struck. Would it become a problem again?
She looked up at Torchay. She wanted to hold him, tell him his mistake didn't matter, that he could call her “love” all he wanted. But it did matter, and he couldn't call her that or any other sweet name, couldn't touch her even in passing because if he did, she would be touching him back, and more. She sent as much love down the link to him as she could.
“We have to remember at every moment that things are different here. We might be able to share quarters because we are bound as godmarked, but here, we cannot all be married together.” She kept her voice quiet, reinforced the sense of what she said through the links. She couldn't speak through the links, save to Joh when she was seeing through his eyes, or when the others were dreaming together with her, but she could send a sort of knowledge. “Here, we are paired ."
And the pairing made things
Similar Books
