Apostate: Forbidden Things

by Nikki Mccormack

  Theron stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words as he held her, moving her through the doorway into the room with a gentle guidance.

  The attendant cleared his throat. “Would the lady like a warm bath?”

  She was still crying too hard to respond, but she felt Theron nod. A door opened and closed, leaving them alone. When her tears subsided, Theron backed her away with a hand on each shoulder. He eyed her face and wiped at her damp cheeks with a soft linen.

  “There. That’s a little better. A strong woman like you shouldn’t be drenched in tears.”

  She answered with a tremulous smile. “I suppose I don’t look so strong now.”

  His warm smile brought the sting of fresh tears to her eyes, but she clenched her teeth and drove them back this time.

  “Even the strongest of men would break down after everything I know you have been through, and since I probably don’t know half of it, I’m more than impressed that you have held it together this long.” He considered her in silence for a moment, concern joining his other emotions. His gaze lingered on the tattoo. “When I hoped for an ambitious child, I didn’t expect The Divine to take me so seriously.”

  She sniffled and smiled. “Neither did I.”

  Theron laughed, but the furrowing of his brow warned her that the conversation was about to change. “You do love Emperor Yiloch. I find that a little hard to figure out, but I can’t deny what I saw out there. I have to ask you to set aside all of that and answer me truthfully.”

  She had no trouble meeting his serious gaze now. This was a subject of great importance to her and those she cared for.

  “Did he play any part in the assassination of the Caithin royal family?”

  “He did not,” she stated. “I know who is responsible…” She trailed off when he raised a finger to her lips and shook his head.

  “Nothing is going to change tonight. Tomorrow, we will talk more. Right now, that answer is enough for me. You need rest and food, and a bath is certainly in order,” he added, wrinkling his nose and giving her a teasing wink.

  Unable to express her gratitude in words without bursting into tears again, she settled for hugging him. Theron kissed her forehead. Then he stepped back and brushed his thumb across the tattoo on her cheek, looking over her face as though hoping to etch it into his mind. He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in that smile now.

  “Get some rest. We’ll talk again in the morning.”

  She nodded and watched him leave. There was a great deal they needed to talk about, but she had many things to consider now. Theron was highly respected in the Caithin high council, but she needed much more than the support of one man if Yiloch was to be exonerated of this crime. If she chose not to do things his way, would Theron forgive her?

  She couldn’t stop a bemused smile. It was probably a little late now to start worrying over what other people were going to think about her choices.

  When the attendant came back through the servant door in one side of the lavish bedchamber, she followed him eagerly to the waiting bath. He showed her the waiting robe and offered to send food and drink. Without guilt, she requested that he send the finest Lyran wine in the palace along with the food. Yiloch owed her something for helping save his kingdom and for letting her think, even for a moment, that she really mattered to him.

  She reclined in the hot, scented bath, wondering if some of the steam might not be rising from her own anger with him, rather than the heat of the water. The feelings she had read off him had felt deep and sincere. Was there some way he could deceive her ability that completely? She doubted it. Perhaps her own longing had deceived her, causing her to misread his emotions.

  No. The emotions had been real. He might be skilled enough to deceive her in other ways, but he wasn’t capable of lying to her ascard ability. In which case, he did love her. He did want her. And yet…

  An ache of sympathy for the woman she had seen in the throne room brought the sting of tears back to her eyes. When Yiloch had seen the woman, there had been no sense of guilt from him, only a hint of resignation that touched her ability like a heavy sigh. The only hurt she sensed from him was in response to her own upset. How could he be so cold? The woman—so young, and beautiful, and dressed in attire befitting royalty—had been hurt by what she saw transpire between them. She must be his fiancée. Who else could she be?

  Indigo rose from the bath and wrapped the soft robe over her shoulders. She eyed the bed.

  Less than an hour ago, Suac Chozai had woken her. It would take a great deal more rest to restore her true strength, especially after exerting enough to heal Yiloch’s many injuries.

  She rubbed the spot on her finger where Yiloch’s ring had been. When she woke, the ring was gone and Chozai’s explanation for its absence haunted her still. He had informed her, in a somewhat disinterested tone, that a Lyran adept had been standing over her when they found her. He had been strong enough to take out a number of Grey warriors who came searching for her. This man must have taken the ring, he said. His description of the individual wasn’t a good match for anyone she knew, but after the way Myac had disguised himself in Caithin, she was only willing to give so much weight to a physical description.

  She sighed and walked over to sit in a chair beside the fireplace. There was far too much to think about for her to go to sleep now. Instead, she gazed into the flickering flames, prepared to consider all that had passed in the last several hours and how it might change things going forward.

  A knock on the chamber door startled her awake. A serving woman, who had brought a tray of food and some wine while she was sleeping, and who was now tending the fire, met her eyes. When she nodded, the woman walked over to answer the door. Indigo couldn’t see who was there from her vantage.

  “I wish to see the Caithin woman,” a woman’s voice snapped in the elegant dialect of the Lyran aristocracy.

  Apprehension spiked within her. Was she up to having this confrontation now, because it didn’t appear that she was going to get an option?

  “Yes, my lady.”

  The serving woman opened the door and bowed out of the way.

  Bitterness preceded the Lyran woman into the room, bitterness that formed a thin shell over a core of hurt. Her perfect, refined features were cast in a mask of aloofness when her pale eyes fell upon Indigo. Indigo forced herself to her feet, her bare feet, and pulled the robe more completely around her as the other woman dismissed the servant. She was all too aware of how inappropriate her attire was for such a meeting, but she’d been given no warning. This would have to do.

  The door closed, leaving them alone in the dancing light of the fire. Absently, Indigo used ascard to light candles around the room, wincing when the woman started in surprise at the casual display of power. Well, perhaps the small demonstration would keep things civil.

  The woman’s anger flared again, chasing away the moment of fear.

  “I am Emperor Yiloch’s fiancée, Lady Auryl Vyram,” she introduced in a tone that could freeze a river.

  Indigo kept her expression impassive despite the ache those words opened up within her. You knew this had to happen, she reminded herself. The ache remained.

  “I can’t imagine what he sees in you,” Lady Auryl said, eyeing Indigo with a grimace of disgust. “A Caithin woman, of all things, and rather unremarkable looking at that.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Indigo snapped back, her calm disintegrating before the degrading tone. Did the woman think she could chase her away with petty insults? She felt a brief flare of jealously in response to the other woman’s beauty. What did he see in her compared to this gorgeous, delicate creature? “Perhaps you should ask him what it is I have that you apparently lack.” Temper flared, and pain, such a deep, aching pain. Indigo held up a hand to stay Auryl’s retort. “I’m sorry, Lady Auryl. That was wrong of me to say.”

  The sudden apology undermined Auryl’s rage, and tears sprang to her beautiful eyes. “He loves you. How can he love you?�
�� Auryl’s voice cracked and her proud shoulders sagged forward as a sob shook her.

  “Please don’t,” Indigo soothed her with ascard, manipulating her emotional pain with a touch of calming sedation. The effort sapped her, proving how much rest she still needed even now. “Please, Lady Auryl, sit with me.”

  Auryl dabbed at her tears and nodded, her regal façade broken by the power of her sorrow. At least she appeared unaware of Indigo’s manipulations. Indigo waited while the other woman crossed the room, and then sat when she did, hoping to suggest an equal status. Lady Auryl wasn’t the empress yet and Indigo was, if nothing else, a Kudaness priest and a powerful adept.

  “I’m Lady Indigo Milan un Ani,” she offered in the ensuing silence, resisting the brief wicked urge to add un Yiloch to the title.

  Auryl stared into the fire. She had come here, judging from her initial words, to cut Indigo down and perhaps even chase her away. Now she appeared lost and frail, closed in on herself in the big chair across from Indigo.

  “Yiloch and I…” An eyebrow lifted, a flicker of the earlier temper flashing in those eyes because she used his name so familiarly. Indigo continued, refusing to change the way she referred to him for the other woman’s sake. “We should never have had this relationship. We should never have had the chance at it. Life is a strange thing. I can’t really explain how it all started, but I do love him. I can’t change that. Perhaps he loves me—”

  “He does. It was in the way he looked at you, in the way he held and kissed…” her voice cracked and she fell silent.

  “We can’t be together. You and I both know that, and so does he,” Indigo felt the long-standing wound of that truth breaking open and bleeding fresh within her as she spoke. Turning away, she stared into the fire and tried not to hate this woman who could have everything she so desperately wanted.

  “That should be enough really,” Auryl murmured into the silence. “When I learned I was to marry him, I didn’t think I would care if he loved me. I would bear him heirs, as duty required, and then find my emotional pleasures elsewhere. I’d met him as a child and remembered being rather intimidated. When I met him again as an adult, I was captivated by how handsome he was, but even then, I didn’t think it would matter. Anyone of such status is expected to have lovers. Most of us do. It wasn’t until I saw the two of you…” She paused, collecting herself. “I expected him to have lovers, but I did not expect him to actually love them.”

  She put her face in her hands and silent sobs shook her shoulders.

  Despite her exhaustion, Indigo got to her feet and walked over, kneeling next to the other woman’s chair. Tentatively, she rested a gentle hand on Auryl’s arm.

  “I’m so very sorry,” Indigo whispered. “I envy you more than you can imagine that you can have him as a husband, for what little that is worth.”

  Auryl looked up. Her pale eyes followed the path of a tear as it ran down Indigo’s cheek. Reaching up, she brushed away the next tear that followed it, but another quickly took its place.

  “Such beautiful skin,” she murmured.

  Indigo took her hand and held it. It was soft, as her own hands had been once, though the long days on the road had roughened them some.

  Auryl smiled, a tremulous curving of her full lips. “Why couldn’t you have been horrible,” she sniffed. “I could have hated you. I could have thrown you out of the palace without another thought.”

  Indigo let out a soft laugh that held little mirth. “I’m leaving before dawn, if it makes you feel any better.”

  “Not really.”

  Indigo released her hand and returned to her seat, brushing away her own tears now. Silence reigned, broken only by the serving woman who poked her head in. Auryl sent her to get another glass for wine and they sat watching the fire in silence until sometime after they had each finished their first glass and dark had fallen outside. Without prompting, the serving woman had a full supper delivered to them. Indigo found it ludicrous, but somehow fitting, that she was here supping with Yiloch’s fiancé.

  “You’ve been with him?” The emphasis on the word been made Indigo shift uncomfortably in her seat. “Sorry, I suppose that probably offends your Caithin sensibilities. I am less upset by the thought of you having sex with him than I am with knowing that he loves you.”

  Indigo held her silence, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that.

  Auryl filled their glasses. She took several sips of the wine before she spoke again. “I suppose there are worse people to share him with.”

  Indigo sighed. “I told you I’m leaving. You won’t have to share him with me.”

  Auryl gave her a level look. “I saw the two of you together. Whether or not you are here, I will always be sharing him with you. Regardless, I am sure you will be back. You love each other.”

  And I have nowhere else to go, she thought. A deep, empty ache swelled within, filling every corner of her being.

  “What is it?”

  Indigo brushed away a fresh tear. “It’s nothing. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Everyone needs a little help sometimes.” Auryl smiled, a warm encouraging smile. When Indigo remained silent, she said, “The tattoo is rather stunning. I like the effect.”

  Indigo started to explain the symbol and Auryl shushed her.

  “I know what it means, but I like it for more than its meaning. Now,” she paused to take another sip of her wine, “what weight rests on your shoulders that it brings such misery to your eyes, and do not play strong with me. We are women. It is our privilege to comfort one another.”

  Indigo gazed into the fire and took a long sip of her wine. She swirled the glass, holding the liquid in her mouth for a moment to appreciate its complexity. A faint touch on her links told her Ian was soundly sleeping down the hall. She envied him the rest. Yiloch was still in the council chamber off the throne room. He too, needed rest, and more healing. Sometime in the night, he would get it… the healing at least.

  She met Auryl’s eyes and nodded, pushing away a twinge of guilt. Relaxed by the wine and warmed by it as much as by the surprising welcome in the other woman’s eyes, she began to speak.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Lady Auryl left a few hours later. She had listened to Indigo talk for much of that time and was now the only one who knew the truth about how Indigo had met Yiloch. As strange as the circumstances were, Indigo felt she had gained a friend and ally in the other woman. Midnight was drawing near. Yiloch, his weariness resonating with her own through their link, was in his chambers now. Like her, he was still awake, troubled by worries and plagued by pain from a body that needed more healing.

  She could help him, but after spending so much time with Auryl, it was hard to go to him without feeling as if she were betraying the other woman. For a short time, she paced the room, determined to resist. Acutely aware of his need and of how much she wanted to see him in spite of everything, she finally slipped from the room, using ascard to ensure that she went unseen as she traversed a few hallways to his chambers. Outside his door, she hesitated, feeling ahead for the signature of anyone else in the room. He was alone and still very much awake.

  She pushed open the door. The room was dark, dimly lit by the light of a moon filtered through wispy clouds and faceted crystal windows. He reclined in a chair, gazing out toward the ocean.

  “I hoped you would come,” he said without turning. Perhaps he feared what he might see in her eyes after the way they had parted.

  “Hm.” She closed the door, listening to the soft click of the bolt as she locked it, and walked up behind another chair, resting her hands on the back, the solid object offering a sense of stability. His long silver hair gleamed in the moonlight, pale features statuesque and perfect. She ached to touch him. If only he would look at her, but then, she wasn’t sure her resolve could withstand that gaze. “I spent the last several hours talking to your fiancée.”

  Regret rose up in him.

  She scowled at his back. “I
would be less angry if I thought you felt at least a touch of guilt for what you’re doing to her.”

  He snapped to his feet and she could feel the pain of his injuries, of his stiff and bruised muscles, through their link. Despite that pain, he moved over beside her. She turned away from the chair to face him and he placed a hand against her cheek, staring into her eyes. His gaze was demanding and filled with a desire that sent blood rushing through her in a wave of heat, but there was a much deeper emotion beneath that. Something that made her heart soar and ache at the same time. His touch was so warm, so wonderful, she struggled against an urge to close her eyes and forget all the things she wanted to say.

  After a few seconds, she managed to pound the desire back down. She needed to keep her head clear and speak to him. There was so much she needed to say, but too much wine still fogged her thoughts and his touch only made it worse.

  “Do you feel guilty?” His voice was a soft growl, desire mixed with anger. “Do you feel any shame for coming here?”

  I did not come here for that. She met his pale eyes in the darkness. Need coursed through her, giving lie to the thought. Passion and longing surged up so powerful she swayed beneath the force.

  “How could I not come?” she asked when he steadied her with a hand on her arm.

  His kiss banished all her thoughts. She wanted him, all of him, his emotion, his passion, his bare warm skin pressed against hers. Pushing ascard through him, she found and finished healing his wounds, then leaned into him, struck by a sudden rush of fatigue. Yiloch lifter her into his arms and carried her to his bed, laying her down with care.