by C. L. Wilson
Dilys grabbed Ari’s hand, but instead of the surge of fresh, electric power like that which sparked through his own cells, he found only tingling warmth. Slightly more powerful than the mild boost one usually received from a woman’s laugh, but nothing like the raw energy he was receiving.
A quick glance around told Dilys that the rest of his officers were similarly unaffected. After basking in the warmth of feminine joy for a few moments, the other officers were already heading back into the banquet hall to return to their morning meal.
“Interesting,” Dilys murmured.
Ari’s eyes narrowed, then he gave a bark of laughter. “Ha! I don’t believe it. Here less than a day, and already you’ve formed a of connection with one of them!”
“I hadn’t thought so.” Dilys turned back toward the sound of the laughing Seasons. “Perhaps one of them formed a connection with me?” He’d had numerous oulani women form emotional connections with him before. Quite a few before he had earned his ulumi-lia. Quite a few more afterwards, while he’d waited for the Bridehunters to finish their work. But none of them had ever either formed a strong enough connection or possessed enough power to give him this much energy from just a rich laugh. Only his mother had ever been able to do that.
“My money’s on Autumn,” Ryll said. “I could swear I saw a little of that haughtiness she wears start to melt last night.”
“Maybe.” He knew Autumn found him attractive. All Calbernans were attractive to the opposite sex. It was part of their biology, a lure designed to attract the emotional connections they needed for strength and survival. But as much as Autumn admired his looks, he hadn’t sensed anything that went deeper than the expected physical interest. Not with Spring, either. And the little honeyrose had avoided him so completely, there was no possible way she could have formed any sort of connection to him.
Unless . . . it was possible the connection had come from him. He thought about his inexplicable anger earlier this morning when Ari had teased him over Summer’s marked preference for the company of Ryll. Blessed Numahao, had her blatant preference for the company of other men caused him to unwittingly forge a territorial connection to her just to prevent anyone else from doing so? Was that what had haunted his dreams, destroyed his peace, and left him so ferociously possessive of her this morning? He had never been so petty.
Then again, he’d never been on a mission to win a liana before, either.
For all their affability and good humor, Calbernans were ferociously primitive when it came to claiming a mate. Once a Calbernan entered liakapua, woe betide anyone—especially any male—who tried to interfere. Every fighting skill a Sealord learned during his years of seeking gold and glory would be brought to bear to defeat any interlopers, thus proving himself worthy of his liana’s claiming bond.
Still, Dilys didn’t want to be the kind of man who put himself and his wants and needs before all others. That wasn’t how his father had been. That wasn’t the sort of son his mother had raised.
“Or maybe there is no bond between me and any of the Seasons,” he speculated. “Maybe the reason their laughter powers me more strongly than it does you is because something in their bloodline is particularly well-attuned to something in mine.” He liked that explanation better that the possibility that he was being territorial over a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. Regardless, he needed to know what sort of connection had been formed and who had initiated it. If one of the sisters had forged an emotional tie to him, he needed to pursue it. On the other hand, if he’d inadvertently forged a territorial claim on Summer Coruscate, he needed to undo it so she would be free to explore her interest in Ryll. Whatever the case, Dilys should be able to determine the source of the connection simply by talking to the Seasons and taking each princess’s hand.
He clapped Ari and Ryll on the shoulders. “You two go on back and finish your breakfast.” They’d already filled and consumed three plates of food each, which meant they had a good two or three plates left to go. He started down the hall that led to the terrace from which the laughter of the Seasons was emanating.
“Where are you going?” Ari asked.
Dilys turned around, summoning a grin as he continued walking backward towards his destination. “To find out just how good an impression I made last night.”
Summer and her sisters were still laughing when they stepped through the door that led from the terrace back into the palace. The instant Gabriella crossed the threshold, her “Dilys sensors” started to ping. Her laughter died in her throat. She began looking frantically for a quick escape route, but it was already too late. The tall, devastatingly handsome Sealord had caught sight of them and was heading their way with purpose.
Gabriella took a quick step back behind her sisters as Dilys Merimydion stopped before them and swept a deep, graceful bow.
“Myerialannas. Myerialanna Autumn.” Turning to Autumn, he graced her with a dazzling smile, took her hand, and bent over to press a kiss on the backs of her fingers. “Thank you so much for the pleasure of your company last evening.” Dilys released Autumn’s hand and turned to take Spring’s. “Myerialanna Spring.” Another bow. Another kiss delivered to the backs of Spring’s slender fingers. From another man, the hand kissing might have seemed contrived or overdone. Not with Dilys Merimydion. Like everything else about him, his gesture came across as charming, sincere, and self-assured. “And thank you for your company as well. I thoroughly enjoyed our discussion and look forward to an opportunity to continue it. And Myerialanna Summer . . .”
As those golden eyes turned their focus upon her, Gabriella shrank back and dropped her gaze, doing her best to appear nervous, uncomfortable, and a little afraid. It wasn’t difficult. She was nervous and uncomfortable, and she was a lot afraid.
She clenched her hands together so tightly all the blood left her fingers.
“. . . We did not have the chance to get to know one another a little better,” he was saying. “But I hope that shall soon change?” He reached out a hand in invitation.
She flinched and stepped back, unclenching her hands only long enough to thrust them behind her back. Touching him right now—or ever again, for that matter!—would be a very bad idea. The monster that her shared laughter with her sisters had put to sleep was rousing once more. And it wanted Dilys Merimydion. It wanted him more than it had ever wanted anything. She didn’t dare lay claim to the smallest part of him—not even by so simple and innocent an intimacy as a touch of hands. Because if she did, she would never let him go.
“Ah,” he said. A wash of strong emotions stung her raw senses. Remorse. Guilt. Piercing shame. All his.
She realized that he had interpreted her flinch as something more along the lines of a battered woman shrinking back from a threatening blow. He saw her as fragile—the shy, sheltered rose everyone believed her to be. He thought he’d hurt her tender, defenseless heart with his earlier incautious words, and he despised himself for it.
She should have jumped on that belief and played it up for all it was worth. Instead, she found herself overcome by an instant and overwhelming desire to soothe him and set his mind at ease. Only with great effort did she manage to keep from throwing aside the powerful weapon he’d unwittingly given her. Playing the fragile, wounded flower gave her the perfect excuse to avoid him.
“Forgive me, Myerialanna Autumn,” he said quietly, “but might I have a moment to speak privately with and Myerialannas Spring and Summer?”
Before Autumn could answer, Spring said coolly, “There is nothing you need to say to us, Sealord Merimydion, that requires greater privacy than this. Besides, Autumn already knows what occurred this morning.”
“Ah,” he said again. But rather than squirming in embarrassment as some men might, Dilys nodded and said, “So be it. Myerialanna Spring, Myerialanna Summer, to my shame, you both overheard a conversation that should not have taken place. My cousins were trying to get a rise out of me over Myerialanna Summer’s marked preference for their
company last night, and to my shame, they succeeded. My poorly chosen words were naught but a crude shield for my own wounded pride. I came here to court three of Mystral’s most admired and desirable princesses: the Seasons of Summerlea. I led my men to war and stood against a risen god for that honor. To be clear: the opportunity to spend time in the company of any of Your Royal Highnesses is a priceless gift, one I do not intend to squander. I apologize sincerely for any wound my prideful foolishness may have caused, and I beg you both, most humbly, for your forgiveness. If you would, please, I would start anew.”
She could feel his gaze upon her like a physical touch. Every word he spoke rang with sincerity, and the sound of his voice set her senses aflame. The low, melodious cadence was like a drug to her, gorgeous, deep, velvety. She wanted to sink into the sound and wrap it around her. She wanted to lay naked in the sun and have him whisper that seductive magic across her skin. Every cell in her body ached to believe him, to forgive him, to begin anew, to—wait!
Was he . . . Persuading her?
She nearly started out of her shoes. Holy Halla! He was! Since coming to adulthood, she’d never met another person—not even the most gifted of her Seahaven relatives—who could actually Persuade her. But if the Calbernans possessed a strong enough gift to influence her mind, it would explain why they had sensed the strong push of Persuasion she’d used on Dilys last night.
Well, this put a whole different spin on everything. Calbernans possessed the gift of Persuasion. No wonder people everywhere (especially women) found them so charming, so impossible to resist. No wonder they’d been willing to fight a war for the chance to wed their prince to one of the Seasons of Summerlea. Somehow they must have found out about the strong Persuasive gifts that ran through Seahaven’s royal family—a gift her mother’s family worked hard to keep secret, for obvious reasons. Most likely, her father had revealed the information himself as a way to convince the Calbernan mercenaries to support his efforts to retake Summerlea, though obviously he hadn’t mentioned which of his daughters possessed the magic.
Maybe this was the secret ulterior motive Spring had been obsessing about. This courtship wasn’t about claiming a bride with weather magic to help with Calberna’s shipping industry. Dilys Merimydion and his men were seeking to strengthen their own ability to influence and control minds!
The dirty sneaks!
Of course, the fact that she had been using her gift to influence and control minds all her life was completely beside the point. She’d never done it for personal gain. If anything, she’d used it to keep herself from being a danger to others.
Obviously Summer wasn’t the only one feeling Dilys’s Persuasion. Spring was actually smiling at Calberna’s prince as she accepted his apology with an uncharacteristic warmth. “Thank you, Sealord. That was a most gracious apology.”
Silence fell . . . stretched out. Still smiling pleasantly, Spring stepped back and deliberately trod upon Summer’s slipper-clad toes. The sharp pain in her toe snapped Summer to full attention.
“Yes, thank you,” she muttered. She lifted her gaze as far as Dilys’s nose before the peripheral gleam of those golden eyes sent the blood thundering through her veins. Her gaze skittered away. Considering what had happened to her yesterday, the first time she’d met Dilys Merimydion’s gaze, it was possible the Calbernans could Persuade with their eyes as well as their voices. She wasn’t going to risk it. “Most gracious of you.”
Another silence stretched out, then the Sealord cleared his throat and said, “I invite the three of you to join me aboard the Kracken this evening for dinner and a sail down the fjord to watch the sunset at sea. There are storms out in the western Varyan, so it should be spectacular.”
Autumn and Spring both accepted the invitation, but Summer shook her head. Refusing him took effort. The seductive lure of his Persuasion curled around every word he spoke, making it nearly impossible to deny him. She’d had a lifetime of learning how to deny herself, though, so she managed. “It sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I must decline. I teach at the queen’s new school in town, and I am quite behind on preparing the lessons for next week.”
Thankfully, the Sealord didn’t insist on pressing further. With a final, deep bow and a promise to collect Autumn and Spring at eight o’clock, he excused himself.
Summer didn’t breathe easy again until he disappeared from view.
“Well,” Spring said, “You have to give him credit. He doesn’t beat around the bush. What do you think, Autumn?”
“Hmm?” Autumn murmured absently. “What?” She dragged her appreciative gaze off Dilys’s departing backside, paused to admire a group of Calbernans who were lifting heavy objects for the delight of several other female onlookers, and wiped a hand over her lips as she turned to Spring. “I have to say, Storm wasn’t exaggerating when she warned us these Calbernans were walking erotic dreams. Check my face. Did I miss any drool?”
Spring rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
Autumn gave a small laugh. “At least now I feel a little more sympathy for those poor sods who walk into lampposts around me.” Not that any of the Calbernans would know how sincerely and appreciatively Autumn was ogling them. To those who didn’t know her well, she would appear every inch the haughty princess. She’d perfected that mask years ago and wearing it had become second nature.
Their oldest sister huffed a long-suffering sigh and directed her attention to Summer. “And you, Gabriella. What was with the flinching and cowering just then? Are you really that upset about his stupid remarks earlier, or did something happen between you and Sealord Merimydion last night that you haven’t told us?”
Summer stifled a wince. Spring had a habit of seeing much more than most people wanted her too, including Gabriella. “No, it’s not that,” she lied. “But he made his preference clear, so I thought I might as well use that to my advantage. I truly am busy with the school, so since he already thinks I’m no bolder than a cup of milked tea, I might as well live down to his expectations. That way, he won’t feel compelled to waste his time or mine with a courtship doomed to go nowhere.”
Autumn’s pansy-purple eyes widened. “That’s really good thinking, Gabi.” The wide-eyed look of admiration turned to narrow-eyed accusation. “What a shame it’s also a total pile of horse shoto.”
Summer’s cheeks went hot.
“Aleta!” Spring hissed.
“What?” All humor fled Autumn’s face. “It’s true and you know it. Gabi runs away from every man there’s even the slightest chance she might feel more than friendship towards. And she does it for the same reason you try to find the deep, dark secret they’re all supposedly hiding.”
“Like we’re the only ones? What about you and the way you’ve been objectifying these men?”
“Yes! I do it, too! I admit it! We may have different methods, but we all do the same thing. For all the same reasons. Because we’re all afraid of falling in love and ending up like him.”
The three of them shared haunted looks.
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m tired of being afraid,” Autumn continued. “We all have dangerous gifts. Some more dangerous than others.” She held her palm over a lit candle on the table, close enough that the heat from the flame should have scorched her flesh, but she didn’t flinch. She closed her hand slowly, and the flame died. Then she opened her fist with a sharp flick, and all the candles in the room flared to sudden life. She met her sisters’ gazes. Her purple eyes were flickering with fiery lights. “But Storm and Wynter have gifts every bit as dangerous as ours, and that hasn’t stopped them from finding love.”
“That’s different,” Spring said.
“Why? Because she didn’t have a choice and we do?” Autumn stood up and gave her skirts a shake to smooth out the wrinkles. “This is our chance, sisters. Everything we know, everything we’ve read, everything we’ve learned says Dilys Merimydion is an honorable, noble man who comes from a country famous for how well they treat women.
”
“He’s a mercenary,” Spring reminded her.
“And an obscenely wealthy merchant, and a landowner, and a prince,” Autumn shot back. “And a freer of slaves. And as handsome as any woman could ever want. And charming, too, with a surprisingly excellent sense of humor. Your objections, Viviana, are just obstacles you keep throwing in your own path out of fear. Khamsin likes him. That goes a long way with me. So, you two can keep making excuses to avoid him and not let yourselves like him, but barring any dreadful revelations once the information from Uncle Clarence gets here, I intend to welcome his courtship and see what comes of it.”
It took Summer hours alone in her room, focusing all her attention on planning the children’s costume project, before she finally managed to extinguish the fires of possessive fury that Autumn’s parting declaration roused. Even then, when the threat of a deadly loss of control had passed, she knew it was only a temporary reprieve. Her defenses were shaky at best, and when it came to anyone else laying claim to Dilys Merimydion’s attentions, they were virtually nonexistent.
Worse, that ferocious desire to have and keep him for her own was no false desire manufactured by the Persuasions he’d tried to manipulate her with earlier. No, that craving was entirely hers. In Dilys Merimydion, it seemed, her deepest lifelong desire had found its focus. She could not shift nor sway it, no matter how she tried.
As for Autumn’s brave claim that Wynter and Khamsin had found and embraced love despite their dangerous mutual gifts, she was right, but Summer’s parents had been happy too—blissfully so—until Queen Rosalind’s death.
Dangerous power and deep emotion did not go well together. Period. As happy as Khamsin and Wynter were today, that love skated on the crumbling edges of disaster.
So, while Autumn was right that Dilys Merimydion was potentially the best husband any woman could hope for, that was the problem. With him, marriage would lead to love, and love would leave the door open for disaster.