“I—” I waved helpless hands at her. How could she misunderstand me so completely? “Vhar, I don’t want this.”
“Dearest, you do not know what you want, not really. You have tried men, and look how badly that turned out. Lathran… Arran… this boy god of yours. They have all used you and cast you aside. But I will never do that, because I truly love you. See how good it can be.”
And she reached up, arms around me, and kissed me on the mouth. The last thing I wanted was to upset her, for I’d missed her gentle companionship, and my exhaustion was overwhelming my resistance, but I had to stop her. As gently as I could, I pushed her away and disentangled her arms.
“Vhar, dear, this is not what I want. I love you very much, as a sister, but not in any other way.”
“You would like it if you tried it. Just once, to please me?”
“No. I’m sorry, Vhar, but no. Please don’t cry.”
“Why will you not even try?” she sobbed. “We could be so happy together, you and I. We would not need anyone else, just each other. It would be perfect.”
“It might be perfect for you, dear one, but not for me. Arran was perfect for me.”
“But he betrayed you!”
“He made a mistake, that is all.” I ran a hand over my face, too weary for such a discussion. If only I could crawl into bed and pretend this had never happened. Yet I couldn’t leave things hanging between us. It would be wrong to allow her false hope. “Vhar, understand once and for all, I love Arran. I’ve loved him for a long time, he made me very happy and I can’t erase that overnight. I don’t want to! Those times are amongst my happiest memories. But if it wasn’t Arran, it would be someone else. Some other man. I’ve never looked at a woman in that way, never felt a tenth of what I felt when I was with Arran. It just isn’t in me. So please don’t ever approach me like this again. And now I should like to go to bed.”
Silently, she brought me a nightgown, and I crept onto my side of the bed, keeping to the very edge of it. So many times we’d curled up together and fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, in all innocence, or so I’d thought. When had she started thinking of me differently? How long had she watched me with the eyes of a lover, wanting to touch, to caress, to taste? And all the time I’d thought of her only as my cousin and my best friend.
She extinguished all but the nightlamp, and slipped into her side of the bed. There we lay, far apart, turned away from each other, trying to sleep. Tears dampened my pillow, as I wept for the closeness we’d once had, and perhaps had lost for ever. And I wept, too, for the love I was incapable of giving her, the love she deserved. I stared into the darkness, listening to the silence from the other side of the bed.
~~~~~
I woke late, puffy-eyed and lethargic. Vhar-zhin was gone, my clothes tidied away, and three fresh outfits laid out for me to choose from. I looked at the simple trousers and tunics with distaste. I summoned the servants.
“Bring me some gowns. And something for my hair – combs or some such.”
In the bathing room, servants had already filled the tub with steaming hot water, and set out an array of soaps and towels for me. I chose the roughest kind, as if I could wash away all my difficulties with vigorous scrubbing.
Then I was arrayed in an elegant gown, my hair carefully combed and scented and arranged, my nails trimmed and buffed. I didn’t normally wear gowns, but something in me had changed over the last ten-sun. I couldn’t say what it was: Ly-haam, perhaps, or Vhar-zhin, or maybe it was losing Arran. Whatever it was, I had been pushed and pulled about by the gods far too much lately. I’d felt like a tiny boat bobbing about on a great ocean, buffeted by the whims of other people and the lure of magic. But at last, I was home, I was myself again and I wanted to face the world at my best.
In the big sitting-room, Vhar-zhin was waiting for me, a table set with fruits and pastries and cooked dishes sitting on burners to keep hot. She sprang up as I entered, her face anxious. Guilty, even.
“Dearest! I have morning board for you. Will you eat something?”
I stared at her. So many times we’d shared a meal like this, giggling over some trivial little joke, or discussing the events of that sun. Now all I could think of was her hand on my breast, her lips on mine.
“No, I’ll eat in my apartment.”
Her face crumpled, but I could offer her no sympathy. There was nothing I could say or do that would assuage the hurt she felt. I knew what it was like to lose a dream of love. I had to live with my lost love, and she had to live with hers.
I collected Cryalla from outside the apartment door. Her eyes swept up and down, taking in the gown and the more elaborate hair, but she said nothing. It was not a bodyguard’s place to comment. But I fancied there was a softening about her eyes, as if she understood something of my feelings.
She was not much older than I was, and I wondered if she had a lover tucked away somewhere, a fellow guard, perhaps. Was there a child, left with her mother or a sister? I’d never thought about her before. Well, I’d never been interested enough to ask. My eyes had always been on the high nobles of the Council, the diplomats and ambassadors. And the Drashona’s own family and retinue, of course. But as we walked along the corridor, Cryalla tucked in behind me, I chided myself for my inattention, and determined that I would make the effort to get to know her better.
Within moments my new resolution turned to dust. When I reached my own apartment, there was a figure at the door, deep in animated discussion with one of the servants. A familiar man’s figure.
My heart turned over, and without conscious thought my feet sped up.
“Arran?”
He turned, his face lighting up with pleasure. “Drina! Thank all the gods you are safe! I was so worried, my love. Let me look at you. You look tired, a little drawn. It must have been such an ordeal for you. Yet you escaped. My brave girl!”
Gods, I was so happy to see him. I forgot Ly-haam and Vhar-zhin, forgot everything but Arran’s handsome face, his wide smile, his hair curling about his cheeks. I giggled like a girl, my cheeks aflame.
“But you look lovely,” he went on, his eyes roving up and down. “I so enjoy seeing you in a gown, my little flower. It suits you admirably, with your figure.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. When he called me ‘his little flower’ and looked at me with such affection – such love – in his eyes, I wanted nothing more than to surrender myself to his strong arms. I wanted him to sweep me up and carry me to bed and make sweet love to me.
Cryalla coughed discreetly. “Perhaps inside the apartment, Highness?”
We were all still standing in the corridor, my steward pretending not to notice what was going on, several other servants inside the apartment goggling at us.
I giggled again. I know I had a huge grin across my face. “Yes, let us go inside. Sharanna, something to eat, if you please. And wine. We will take morning board in the blue room.”
The steward whisked away to give orders to the kitchen, herding the other servants before her. Cryalla followed us to the door of the blue room, then took up her accustomed position outside the door.
Inside, I spun round to look at him by the sunlight streaming in from an arched window. The sun glimmered on strands of his hair, turning them to golden filigree. He looked wonderful. But I couldn’t just fall into his arms. I summoned all my reserves of self-control. Deep breath. And another.
“So how are you, Arran?”
“I am well, as you see. All the better for seeing you safely restored to us.”
“And your wife? And the little one?”
A pause. “They are well. But…” He sighed. “We fell out somewhat. After… well, what happened. I was… upset without you. And then you disappeared, and I was so… I could not eat or sleep, for worrying about you. Then Silla was upset. And my father was cross with me, for spoiling everything with you, for not protecting you. Maybe if I had been here…”
“It was my fault I was kid
napped, not yours,” I said gently. “You could not have prevented it. Here, sit beside me.” I plumped myself down on one of the elegant sofas he’d chosen and patted the seat.
With a wry smile, he sat, legs neatly folded, not touching me. “I… I have sent her back to Hexmore, to my family. She will be better there, with people around her, and her own kin nearby.”
He ran a hand across his face, head drooping. “Oh Drina, I have made such a mess of my life. It was so good with you, and now I have ruined everything, and all because I put off telling you about Silla.”
“It was more than that,” I said sharply.
His head shot up. “What else?”
“You lied to me! You told me the pregnancy was an accident—”
“So it was!”
“—and it happened last year, after you were sent away.”
“It did. Once, that was all, a stupid mistake on my part but I was so low after… And she was so sympathetic. Well, no excuses. But then she thought she might be pregnant and… I could hardly abandon her, so we married, but I had no thought of living with her. It was only so that my family could take care of the child. I left her at Hexmore, and came back here. But she followed me, Drina, and… and I had to do something with her, for she refused to leave me. So I set up some lodgings, and… naturally… you can guess…”
He looked so miserable, I wanted to hug him tight, and kiss away all the sadness. Of course he had shared her bed, she was his wife and I could well imagine how she’d enticed him. And so she got herself truly pregnant, as she’d always intended, that much was very clear. Poor Arran! He’d been far more deceived than me. If only he’d been open with me from the start, I could have dealt with this Silla, with her seductive ways.
Such a relief! He hadn’t lied, he just hadn’t told me the full extent of his situation. A bubble of hope rose from my chest and burst into pure happiness. He hadn’t lied!
I was too wound up to form a coherent sentence. “I see,” was all I said.
“Do you?” he said, his face brightening. “I thought I had told you everything, but I suppose I was not thinking straight. I was in such a state! I was so happy with you, everything was so perfect and then it all fell to pieces. I hardly knew what to do with myself. And then you disappeared and I…” He leaned closer and his voice fell to a whisper. “I was so afraid for you, Drina. I realised then—”
He stopped himself with an exclamation, pulling away from me.
As the silence lengthened, I leaned towards him. “You realised…?”
“How much I loved being with you!” he burst out. “And I never told you so. I wished I had. I wished many things, but that most of all.”
It was not quite the declaration I wanted, but perhaps it was enough. I hesitated, but there was one question that needed an answer. “Do you love your wife?”
“No! No. Not in that way. I was – I am fond of her, I suppose. I have known her for ever. She is the stable master’s daughter, and she was always interested in me, always around to talk to. I liked her well enough, as a friend. But I never loved her.” He clicked his tongue. “I am sorry. I swore to say nothing of myself. I know I have lost my chance with you. My only purpose in coming here was to enquire after you, to be sure you were well – not injured in any way. And now I must go—”
He made as if to rise, but I reached for his hand and lifted it to my cheek. His touch set me tingling, my stomach turning somersaults. His fingers were so warm against my skin. Closing my eyes, I turned my face into his palm and kissed it very softly.
His intake of breath was audible, but he said nothing, waiting.
When I opened my eyes, his lips were apart, his breathing ragged. His expression was full of hope, but there was fear, too. So much fear. Not for long. It was time to set all the misery behind us.
“You are still my drusse,” I whispered.
That was all I said, but he made a little gasp in his throat and then his lips were on mine, his arms around me. He hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.
“My little flower,” he murmured into my hair.
I never did get morning board that sun. Before the servants reappeared, he had swept me into his arms and carried me through to our bedroom. There he tenderly undressed me and made slow, gentle love to me. Afterwards, I fell asleep with my legs wrapped around his, and my head on his chest.
It was blissful.
21: A Proposal
“You are an utter fool. But I daresay you know that already.” Yannassia’s demeanour was calm, as always, but there was an icy tone to her voice. She was not pleased with me.
“At least I’m a happy fool,” I said, lifting my chin.
Yannassia made a barely audible ‘tuh’.
We sat in one of Yannassia’s smaller sitting rooms, which she used only in hot weather. It faced an atrium in the centre of her private tower, with doors which folded away and a small balcony overlooking rustling treetops rooted many floors below.
It was Yannassia’s hour with her children, a tradition that she maintained even though three of us were adult now, and Hethryn almost so. Zandara fancied herself too grand for such occasions, and sat a little apart, flapping an ivory fan to cool her face. We rarely had heat sufficient for a fan, but this one had come all the way from the northern coast, imported at vast expense by her new drusse, so she liked to use it. Axandor yawned in a corner, while Windrayla and Yussia played a game of dragon stones, another import from the north.
The two girls turned big eyes on me. Windrayla giggled behind her hands – at eleven, she giggled at any mention of men or drusse or babies. Yussia, the youngest, watched and listened. She was sharp, that one.
“I think she deserves some happiness,” Hethryn said stoutly. “Drina has had a rotten time, lately.”
I smiled at him. He was sitting beside me, as he always did, although I never encouraged him to do so. I liked him, though. He was quiet and unassuming, which meant that nobody took the slightest notice of him. Whereas I, who had always done the most outrageous things and drawn attention to myself for all the wrong reasons, was courted and respected. The noble houses all had their favourites to succeed Yannassia. Axandor and I both had our supporters, although Zandara was in the ascendant at the moment, because the war was going so well. But no one considered Hethryn.
“We do not always get what we deserve,” Yannassia said, an unusually waspish tone to her voice. “Sometimes the gods choose a different path for us. But where we have a choice, it is necessary to consider every aspect before coming to a decision. Axandrina’s action in allowing a failed drusse to return will be viewed as dangerous weakness by the nobles.”
I bristled at her words. “He is not a failed drusse. He made a mistake, that is all, and he is truly sorry for it. It is not weakness to show forgiveness and compassion.”
Yannassia eyed me thoughtfully, but chose not to challenge me on the point. I could argue from sunrise to sunset if I thought I was in the right, but she seldom gave me the pleasure of a good argument. “I hope this will not interfere with your willingness to entertain the idea of a political marriage.”
My breath caught in my throat. I’d begun to think that would never happen. “Do you have something in mind?”
“For myself, no, but House Gurshmonta has found an Icthari candidate, a prince of some sort.”
“House Gurshmonta?” For a moment, I was surprised. They had always been Zandara’s supporters, not mine. But they had trading links deep in Icthari territory, and I remembered that conversation with Shallack Gurshmonta, when he had hinted that he would like to see me married and, perhaps, out of contention for heir. “Terms?”
“It is too early to discuss terms, but one thing I will insist on: he must live here. Your health will not permit you to move anywhere else. We shall see if that is acceptable to them. The young man is twenty or so, and supposedly very handsome. The Icthari are keen to strengthen the alliance that your father established. Would that be of interest to you?”
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I hesitated, but I couldn’t think of any reason to refuse. It would benefit Bennamore to have the Icthari more tightly tied to us, and if I could stay in Kingswell, I could keep Arran and have full access to magic whenever I needed it.
“She prefers her lover, I think,” Zandara said, her eyes watching me above her fan. She was always trying to needle me, in her devious way.
“Naturally I do,” I said. “That doesn’t mean I’d object to a husband as well.”
“Yes, I suppose that would suit you quite well,” Zandara said. Windrayla giggled behind her hands again.
Axandor sniggered. “The more men she has, the better Drina likes it.”
It was fortunate that the servants arrived just then with refreshments, so I was spared the need to reply. I was used to the two of them, so I was in no danger of losing my temper, but I found their sniping tedious, all the same.
“So I shall tell Shallack Gurshmonta that you are agreeable?” Yannassia said.
“Why not?” I said. “I have an interview with House Gurshmonta very soon, so I can discuss it with Honourable Shallack then. But I have no objection, in principle. Let him come here to be inspected, by all means, this handsome young man, and then we shall see.”
Zandara filled her plate with pastries and began to work her way through them. She had developed a huge appetite while she was pregnant, which had not abated since her son had been born. If anything, she was plumper than I was, now. “If you do not like him, perhaps Vhar-zhin would be interested,” she said.
For a moment, I was taken aback. The mention of Vhar-zhin conjured up vivid images which I had no wish to recall. That evening had been a painful one for both of us, best forgotten.
“Why would you suggest Vhar-zhin?” Yannassia asked, lowering the cake she had been about to bite into. “Why not yourself, for instance? Or one of the cousins? There are enough of them, the Sun God knows.”
Zandara smiled benignly. “She has more in common with the Icthari than I do, or any of the cousins.”
“Nonsense!” Yannassia said. “You mean she has dark skin, I suppose. But her mother was Nyi-Harn, and, I assure you, she means nothing to the Icthari. You and Drina are the obvious candidates for an alliance there.”
The Fire Mages' Daughter Page 20