by Maisey Yates
She did. Oh, how she did. And that wounded her to confess it.
“If you have no honor, then leave.”
And she could not allow him that. Would not.
“I will finish what I have sworn to finish. But I will not go along quietly. I will not. They are good people. And I’ve spoken my piece.”
“Good. Have yourself a rest, and then, we will make use of the baths.”
Her skin prickled. “Why?”
“It is not yours to question me.”
And with that, he left her there in the bedchamber, disappearing into another part of the wing.
And she did not know what would happen next. For the first time in a very long time, she did not know.
* * *
Lazarus was still angry about the confrontation he had with Agnes a couple of hours earlier. But he was intent on doing exactly as his brother had bade him. He was not here, so he would not see whether or not Lazarus and Agnes used the baths, but he had offered it. And it was entirely possible that news of whether or not they had would filter back to Alexius. And he must do nothing that would cause him to question Lazarus’s motives.
He went into the bathroom and stripped naked, putting on one of the robes that had been provided for them. And then he took the other one that was hanging in there and brought it out to the bedchamber, where he found Agnes, sitting on the bed, looking angry. She was still wearing the red dress that she had had on since that morning.
And the idea of being alone with her in the baths made his blood hot.
“Put this on,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Now?”
“Agnes,” he said. “I haven’t time for you to develop a sense of maidenly modesty. We are fighting a battle. Take your dress off, put the robe on.”
And perhaps it was more for him than for her that he issued this challenge. Perhaps it was about proving that he was a man in control.
A man who could still keep Agnes in her proper place. As he must.
Her expression was scathing as she stood from the bed and reached around behind her back. Then she turned away from him, lowering the zipper, and it took him a moment to realize that he was standing there staring, his gaze fixed on her body. And even when he realized, he did not alter course.
Rather he clenched his jaw, tightening his hands into fists as the scarlet fabric dropped from her golden skin and slithered down onto the floor. She unhooked her bra with deft ease, and then pushed her panties down her thighs. Stepping out of them when they reached the floor. He had a good sense of the shape of Agnes’s body. They had trained together, after all, engaging in intense physical hand-to-hand combat. But seeing all that ripe golden skin was different than simply having an understanding of it. Her rear was round and well muscled like the rest of her, but still looked as if it would make a pleasing handful. Too quickly, she slid the robe on, covering her body, and then she turned to face him. And he managed to will his body into absolute submission. Managed to keep himself from getting hard. He was a man of eminent control, and so it would be the same with her.
“Ready,” she said, giving him an evil look.
“I’ll lead the way.”
One good thing about testing himself with Agnes’s body and her beauty was that it gave him a chance to focus on something other than the hauntingly familiar halls of the palace. He did not wish to have memories. Not of this place. He did not wish to think of his childhood here.
That boy that had been born in this palace was dead. He had been dead to his family from the moment he had set foot in the forest, and he must be dead to Lazarus himself. It was the only way. The only real thing. And so those memories were nothing. This was nothing.
They went down to the lowest part of the palace, as Alexius had instructed, but this room was not a typical bath.
It was... An indoor river that seemed to flow beneath the palace, lined with gems, which glittered on the walls.
He looked at Agnes, whose eyes were wide, her mouth dropped open into a perfect circle.
“You like it,” he said.
“Yes,” she responded.
“I do not remember this,” he said.
And he detested the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, because he was not giving any credence to his memory at all. Whether it was there or not.
“I imagine this was not a place for children.”
It was true. This was a place of very adult luxury, and he knew well enough to know that it existed in part for debauchery.
For no place so lavish could avoid being the site of many a sexual adventure.
He dropped his robe without preamble or warning, and Agnes’s cheeks went scarlet. She looked away from him quickly, not even bothering to pretend that she was not shocked and horrified by the sight of his bare body.
And it restored a sense of power to him, which he appreciated. He stepped away from her, and toward the water, so immersing himself and covering anything she might not have seen before.
He looked back at her, but she was still not looking at him. Her hands were at the belt of her robe. And he could see the moment she decided to meet his challenge.
And then his control was badly shaken. For her hands began to work at the knot on her robe, and in that moment, there was nothing. No vengeance. No palace. Nothing but this.
Agnes.
His strong, brave Agnes, removing her robe from her shoulders and exposing her entire body to his view. Those high, round breasts, her strong, lean body, and yet gently curved hips. And that dark thatch of curls between her legs, that place where he had tasted, and suddenly his mouth watered for more. He was hard as an iron bar beneath the surface of the water, and he was only grateful that she could not see. Because she would see this as exactly what it was. A weakness.
He was not doing well in fighting against his desire for this woman.
And how could that be so?
For they were bonded in a way that made that impossible.
And yet.
Did she not break the bond?
She had. She was leaving.
Leaving.
And suddenly, suddenly, he saw his world for what it was. Dark and devoid. But there was something about her that made it feel like it might be more. Something about her that made his life seem more... More like a life. And she would remove herself from it. Entirely. And he no longer had any say in the matter. For he could not... He could not keep her in a cage.
Could you not?
And for what purpose?
But if she was no longer his and she was no longer under his protection? Not in the way that he had always seen himself as her protector. And if that was the case, did it not just make them a man and a woman in this moment?
A man and a woman in this space.
And she was... She was glorious.
Brave and strong, a goddess as she began to step into the water.
And she did it all because she was angry with him. She did it all filled with spite. But it made no real matter to him.
For she was here.
The one and only thing that had ever truly been his.
Agnes.
She got into the water, up to her waist, covering that delectable space between her legs, but leaving her breasts bare to his view.
“Why do you look at me like that?”
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “And I am a man.”
“I thought you were rock.”
“I am rather hard at the moment.”
She blinked. “I’ve not ever known you to make jokes. Particularly not of that nature.”
“I’ve not ever known myself to make them either,” he said, not certain as to what was happening now.
He took a step toward her.
“Don’t,” she said.
And he stopped.
&nbs
p; “Don’t want?”
“Do not... Do not play games with me. I’m not a plaything. You used my body against me last night. Used a feeling that I’m not familiar with to make a mockery of me, and I hate it. I would beg you not to do that. Not ever again.”
He looked at her, and he felt all the need contained in the universe echo inside him. “And if I said I simply wanted you?”
She looked away. “Why?”
A good question. And suddenly the answer seemed clear.
“Because you’re going to go out into the world after this, a free woman, you say. And I want... I want to be part of teaching you what it means to be a woman. Have I not always been there for you? Have I not always been your teacher?”
She looked away from him. “I hardly think...”
“Let us not think.”
He was angry all of a sudden, that he should want this, want her, here in this place, and feel denied. This palace...
How he wanted her. And he didn’t want to be denied. Not anymore. Not her, not anything.
No, he did not wish to exhibit restraint. There were hard lessons that she needed to learn. The world was unforgiving, and she would have to be strong. She was strong in many ways. In the ways of battle. But she did not understand this sort of fight, and she had no tolerance for it.
She would have to learn or find herself harmed in the world.
And was that not the function of a mentor?
He had been made to face a pack of dogs after nearly being consumed by wolves.
She would face him.
Reckon with the need she had created in him.
Her eyes went wide and she backed away from him, against the wall, the gems glittering behind her, the reflection of the water casting glowing waves over her skin.
She was beautiful. And he didn’t believe her showing of fear. Not for one moment. For she could attack him if she saw fit. Best him in any sort of battle that she so chose. So why play the uncertain maiden? It made no sense.
“Where has your fire gone?”
“Don’t,” she said. “You’ve already proven that my defenses against you are not where they should be. You’ve already proven that you could take advantage of me if you had a mind.”
“What makes you think I require this display of you?”
Her eyes sharpened. “What makes you think it’s for you? Am I not allowed to have my own feelings? You’re right. I’ve never been touched by a man. Not like that. Not before yesterday. Not... I had one man, once, attempt to have his way with me. But he was rough and violent. And I fought him off. But this? You made me desire you. And you are supposed to be... You are supposed to be safe. But you’ve gone and changed the rules.”
“I have,” he said. “You attacked me with a sword, Agnes. And you act like my giving you an orgasm is somehow worse? More of a betrayal?”
“Well, yes. Surely that wasn’t the first time you’ve ever been attacked by a sword.”
“Why don’t you show me what you’re made of.”
“Why?”
“I like your spirit.”
She laughed, the sound hollow. “You don’t like my spirit. You only like it when you can bend me to your will. When you can be amused at it. A waste of my spirit.”
He braced his hands on the wall, on either side of her shoulders, and her breasts came very close to brushing against his chest. “What is it that scares you the most? That this is unknown? Or that you desire me.”
“What does desire have to do with anything? I am a woman, after all. For all that I have attempted to fashion myself into a warrior, and only that, you have not done the same. I have watched you satisfy your urges with many women. They come and go from your chamber in an alarming pattern. No, it is only women who must become strong by denying their desire. By denying their gender. And so this... This is only the same. The same as you and all those other women. I have a desire, and you are here. You’ve taken your clothes off.” She looked over him. “It is natural that I might think of how things could be between us. But you...”
He grabbed hold of her hands and quickly wrapped his fingers around her wrists, drawing them up over her head. Pinning her against the wall. And then he did press his chest flush with hers, feel the excited tips of her breasts against his chest. “And yet you do not desire another man, do you?”
She was breathing hard, her eyes wide, but she did not fight him, and he knew that she could. That she could make him very uncomfortable, very quickly.
“I don’t know any other men.”
But she would. Someday she would give all this strength and softness to someone else. It was part of allowing her into the world. A part of allowing her to experience time away from him. He had taught her to fight. He had taught her to protect herself. Why shouldn’t he teach her this? Why shouldn’t he be the one to teach her all that her body could do?
She was the one intent on breaking their bond for good. The one intent on shifting the power balance. And why then should he keep her at arm’s length?
And why... Why should she get to dictate what happened between them? So many pronouncements from this woman he had cared for. From this woman he had...
There was no deeper bond than the one that they shared. It did not exist. Not in the whole of the universe.
And she wanted to walk away from him completely.
“What are you afraid of, little one?”
She lifted her chin. “Not you.”
“Are you strong enough then, to have me this way.”
She squared her shoulders, her chest pressing forward. “And what will I get for it? In the end, I will go on my way. And what will I have gotten? For becoming one of the many women who have paraded through your bedroom. One of the many women to satisfy your baser animal urges. I would be better, I think, for having turned you away. For who is strong enough to do that?”
“But you want me? So what does it matter?”
“Because I have been inconsequential. I have been nothing. And in you, in the wood, I found a home. It matters. And if you just wish to use me as you do your other women, to combat the fact that I have defied you, to make me into something that you forget... Well then, I want nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.”
He looked at this woman, this woman whose life had been so linked to his own. Who was so different from every woman he had ever desired.
“You are Agnes,” he said, for it was all he could say. He was never at a loss. Not ever. And yet, she put him there. “I would never confuse you with another.”
And he looked at her, really looked at her, and he saw that her fear was real. But with it, she was strong. With it, she was exhibiting great strength.
And it occurred to him then, he didn’t know why he had not thought of this before. But he had to keep her. He would have to keep her with him forever.
He had wanted to give her distance from him because he had not accepted the truly honorable thing to do.
To bind her to him forever. In every way.
The truth was, he could not have Agnes in halves. Once he wanted her, he had to let her go...
Or make her his bride.
For she was his in a profound sort of way that he could not give voice to. His in a way that went beyond logic. And she would need... Not this.
Shows of strength, battle, it was what Agnes knew. And she had been used. Many times. Used by her father in order to accomplish his ends.
But had anyone ever worked to gain her trust. Really and truly. Had anyone ever done anything for her. It was clear now what she wanted. Agnes wanted to feel special. And as for himself, Lazarus knew nothing about feelings. What he knew was strength. What he knew was power. A sense of duty and honor. And a sense of ownership.
He knew care, because it was what one did when they had a responsibility to another person. Yes, he knew about those thi
ngs.
But he had to figure out just how to show those things to her. To find a way to reach her so that this time when he pleasured her she was not hurt or upset.
He had to try something new.
And he took a step away from her.
“Enjoy your bath.”
“What?”
“This should be for you. You have been without comfort for so long.”
“Why?”
“You’re right. I have no right to make demands of you. You... Agnes, you must be cared for. I have no wish to frighten you or take advantage of you in any way. And here we are, in this place of luxury. Are you not to enjoy that?”
“Why?”
“Because you should. Because you do matter. Because you are not like other women, not to me. Not like any woman. I am... I am sorry.”
He turned away from her and waded out of the bath, walking up out of the tub and grabbing his robe again.
And then he left Agnes sitting there in the water.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AGNES COULD NOT understand what had happened. One moment she had been engaged in... She didn’t even know. Some form of seduction at his hands, and the next... Well, the next.
The next he had walked away. She had no idea what her body was doing; her heart felt like it was about to hammer straight out of her chest.
And she was... She was disappointed. She was angry. She couldn’t countenance why. Except that she had wanted his mouth on hers again. And on other places. And she felt restless and unsettled for having not gotten it. She should not feel this way.
She didn’t know what was happening with Lazarus. A man who was usually... He was usually so easy to read. He was a man of great integrity. And therefore his actions tended to be deliberate. Never random, never...
But he had been like a wild beast these last few days and she... Her heart couldn’t take it. She loved him. And she had tried very hard to put that love in its proper place. But now the things that he’d done... It indicated that he desired her. But did he? She couldn’t read him and she had no idea what he was playing at. If she was the one who mattered or not. And how would she ever know?