then lowered once more to the floor. A surge of irrational anger filled Raina. How dared he discount her so quickly and with such lack of interest, when even the most fleeting memory of him last night set her own pulse to racing!
She was a warrior, curse it all! She deserved respect and consideration for that, if for nothing else. "The arrogant slime worm," she muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?" Marissa glanced at her. "I could've sworn I heard—"
"It doesn't matter. I can handle him."
Marissa shot her a disbelieving look. "Do you want me to introduce you, since you've supposedly never met?"
"No." Raina's reply was swift and terse. "There's no need for you to stay. You said Brace awaited you. I'm quite capable of dealing with this monk and the king."
"Ef, maybe I'd better stay." Marissa drew to a halt. "There are times when your blunt approach tends to . . ." Her words died and she looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Tends to offend, to anger, and irritate?" her friend smilingly supplied.
"Yes, if you must know the truth."
Raina chuckled. "Have no fear, sweeting. I haven't been leader of the Sodalitas for the past eight cycles without learning the proper time and place for my bluntness. I find, though, that a straightforward approach generally works well with males. They're not particularly known for their ability to perceive subtleties."
Marissa's mouth quirked wryly. "Well, be that as it may, have a care with the king. According to Brace, he's none too tolerant of rebellious or uncooperative subjects of late."
"No, I'd imagine not," Raina admitted. "And, as little as I think of the man personally, he has good reason to be concerned. The Volans are a grave peril to us all." Her friend took her hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. "I know you'll make the right decision."
Raina smiled grimly. "Yes, I will. You can be certain of that." She squeezed Marissa's hand briefly, then pulled away. "Go. Your husband awaits, and I've a monk to make the acquaintance of."
Marissa nodded and stepped away. "Good fortune," she silently mouthed, before turning and striding back the way they'd come. Raina watched until she disappeared around the corner. Then, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she turned and walked over to Teague Tremayne.
Teague watched her approach. Curiosity, for a moment, overcame his monkish discipline. The woman was quite tall and slender, and she moved with a sure, athletic grace. A warrior woman, if he wasn't mistaken.
His glance slid down her body once more, taking in her dark auburn hair in its severe braid, her sparkling green eyes, her fair skin, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Teague found the freckles endearing, softening her in some inexplicable way. She wouldn't like to know that, though, he realized with a surprising surge of insight. She would pride herself on her warrior's prowess and presence.
He didn't know how he knew this about her, or why he even cared, but the certainty of the knowledge unsettled him. Teague had never let anyone get too close to him in any way, not even his fellow monks, save for the former abbot who'd died five cycles ago, carrying Teague's secret to the grave. And he certainly had no desire whatsoever to become attached to a female.
She pulled up before him, dressed in a belted green, long-sleeved tunic, black knee-high boots, and black breeches. The scent of her wafted to him on an eddy of air. Teague's nostrils flared, unconsciously inhaling her unsettling essence of fresh spring breezes and the hauntingly sweet valleria flower.
His instinctive, primal response startled him. In all the cycles since he'd left Incendra, he'd never felt any stirrings toward a female. True, he'd found many attractive, but no more so than a beautiful animal or an exquisitely wrought sculpture or a glorious sunset. But this female . . .
Well, there was just something about her.
She extended her arm in an Imperial greeting. "My name is Raina,
She was a warrior, curse it all! She deserved respect and consideration for that, if for nothing else. "The arrogant slime worm," she muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?" Marissa glanced at her. "I could've sworn I heard—"
"It doesn't matter. I can handle him."
Marissa shot her a disbelieving look. "Do you want me to introduce you, since you've supposedly never met?"
"No." Raina's reply was swift and terse. "There's no need for you to stay. You said Brace awaited you. I'm quite capable of dealing with this monk and the king."
"Ef, maybe I'd better stay." Marissa drew to a halt. "There are times when your blunt approach tends to . . ." Her words died and she looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Tends to offend, to anger, and irritate?" her friend smilingly supplied.
"Yes, if you must know the truth."
Raina chuckled. "Have no fear, sweeting. I haven't been leader of the Sodalitas for the past eight cycles without learning the proper time and place for my bluntness. I find, though, that a straightforward approach generally works well with males. They're not particularly known for their ability to perceive subtleties."
Marissa's mouth quirked wryly. "Well, be that as it may, have a care with the king. According to Brace, he's none too tolerant of rebellious or uncooperative subjects of late."
"No, I'd imagine not," Raina admitted. "And, as little as I think of the man personally, he has good reason to be concerned. The Volans are a grave peril to us all." Her friend took her hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. "I know you'll make the right decision."
Raina smiled grimly. "Yes, I will. You can be certain of that." She squeezed Marissa's hand briefly, then pulled away. "Go. Your husband awaits, and I've a monk to make the acquaintance of."
Marissa nodded and stepped away. "Good fortune," she silently mouthed, before turning and striding back the way they'd come. Raina watched until she disappeared around the corner. Then, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she turned and walked over to Teague Tremayne.
Teague watched her approach. Curiosity, for a moment, overcame his monkish discipline. The woman was quite tall and slender, and she moved with a sure, athletic grace. A warrior woman, if he wasn't mistaken.
His glance slid down her body once more, taking in her dark auburn hair in its severe braid, her sparkling green eyes, her fair skin, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Teague found the freckles endearing, softening her in some inexplicable way. She wouldn't like to know that, though, he realized with a surprising surge of insight. She would pride herself on her warrior's prowess and presence.
He didn't know how he knew this about her, or why he even cared, but the certainty of the knowledge unsettled him. Teague had never let anyone get too close to him in any way, not even his fellow monks, save for the former abbot who'd died five cycles ago, carrying Teague's secret to the grave. And he certainly had no desire whatsoever to become attached to a female.
She pulled up before him, dressed in a belted green, long-sleeved tunic, black knee-high boots, and black breeches. The scent of her wafted to him on an eddy of air. Teague's nostrils flared, unconsciously inhaling her unsettling essence of fresh spring breezes and the hauntingly sweet valleria flower.
His instinctive, primal response startled him. In all the cycles since he'd left Incendra, he'd never felt any stirrings toward a female. True, he'd found many attractive, but no more so than a beautiful animal or an exquisitely wrought sculpture or a glorious sunset. But this female . . .
Well, there was just something about her.
She extended her arm in an Imperial greeting. "My name is Raina,
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