B00CH3ARG0 EBOK

by Christie Meierz

  “Enjoy the hospitality of Suralia, Kazryth,” the Sural said, politely dismissing him. He watched the Paranian heir leave the room, and then dismissed his advisors. As they left, he turned to the apothecary. “Tell me.”

  “The Marann is well,” Cena answered. “Merely overwhelmed. She should rest.”

  Marianne reached for the Sural. “What was that about?” she asked.

  He put an arm around her as Storaas, who had remained in the room when the other advisors departed, sat heavily on the edge of the dais. “She should have warned us,” he said in a weak voice. “What have we done to deserve such inconsideration?”

  “I spared her life,” the Sural said, his voice low and quiet. He didn’t look away from Marianne. “Yet I sensed no duplicity in him.”

  “He was hiding nothing. He does not seem to know who he is.”

  Marianne broke in again. “What’s going on?”

  “The heir of the Parania,” Storaas said, still sounding weak, “had to be fathered by Kazryn.”

  She drew a quick breath. “The Sural’s father?”

  The Sural turned. Suddenly, he radiated alarm. “You are not well, Storaas,” he said, his voice sharp.

  Cena turned her scanner on the old tutor, whose face had taken on an unhealthy color, pale to the point of being tinged with grey. Her lips compressed into a thin line. “A litter!” she called. “Storaas, you must rest. Now.” She fished vials out of her pockets and chose one, removing the stopper and handing it to Storaas. “Drink this. Immediately.”

  He took it from her. “Yes, apothecary,” he replied, swallowing the contents of the vial with a grimace.

  Cena kept her scanner on him, intent on the readout on her tablet.

  “Apothecary,” said the Sural.

  “It is his heart, high one.”

  Aides bearing a litter entered the room.

  “Cena, I can walk,” Storaas said, staggering to his feet.

  “Get on the litter. Now.”

  With a sigh, he obeyed her, allowing the aides to help him.

  “Take him to my treatment room,” she said, following the litter out.

  The Sural helped Marianne to stand. She gazed out the doorway, worry making a knot in her stomach. The Sural put an arm around her, supporting her as she walked.

  “There is nothing we can do, beloved,” he told her. “My apothecary will do all she can for him. You must rest.”

  She nodded and let him escort her to her own quarters. She pursed her lips as they entered her sitting room. “Laura and I were going to watch the Paranians setting up their exhibits.”

  “Better to be disappointed than to do harm to your daughter,” he replied, as he settled her in a divan.

  “And I wanted to practice Paranian.”

  The Sural’s lips thinned.

  “Tell me?” She took his hand and pulled him down onto the divan beside her. “What is going on with this?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and laid his cheek on her hair.

  “Many years ago, in the final days of the Suralia my grandmother’s rule, the Parania came to Suralia as ambassador for her province. She and my father had only just met, but they were ... drawn to each other, and she shared her blanket with him that night. The next day, her father invaded. When all was done, the Paran was dead at my hand, and I chose not to execute her for being present with invading guards. Only I, Storaas, and a portion of the guard survived.”

  “No wonder you are so attached to Storaas,” Marianne said quietly. “So … that one night was fruitful for the Paran’s daughter.”

  He nodded against her hair. “Her son looks like my father, walks like him, sounds like him, is even a poet as was my father. His apparent age is what I would expect for one born the year my father died and who had never received the Jorann’s blessing. I cannot believe anyone but Kazryn could have fathered him.”

  “He looks like your father, but you don’t look like each other.”

  “I resemble my grandmother. Strongly.”

  “Oh.” Marianne was silent for a long moment. “No one knew his mother wanted an heir from your father?”

  “In ancient practice, a woman did not have to inform a man that she wanted him to father her heir. She could take his seed by seduction if she was able, though it is difficult to conceal such an intent. It is no longer permitted in the ruling caste, but it appears the Parania conceived Kazryth in this manner. How she would know if the child met the requirements of the ruling caste…” He trailed off.

  Marianne sensed a shadow of suspicion in him. “You think she didn’t really care about your father? That she only seduced him for a child?”

  The Sural was quiet. After a long moment, he shook his head. “No,” he decided. “I saw them together. Storaas saw them together. He would have detected it if her affection was feigned. But since then … perhaps she has grown bitter over the years of her tenure as Parania. One hundred thirty years is a very long time to rule, especially for one who is not a grandchild of the Jorann. Most rulers lose interest in ruling after fifty years or so. She is, in fact, the last left of those who ruled when I first took power.”

  “If she knew her father was going to destroy your bloodline the next day, maybe she acted on impulse, to save it.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “You know,” she said softly, “in human terms, he’s your brother.” She used the human word.

  “He is of Parania.” His voice dripped acid. “I am Suralia.”

  “Beloved, he doesn’t even know.”

  The Sural sighed and nodded. That would have to suffice to soothe his outrage.

  * * *

  He stayed with Marianne through the rest of the morning, more to calm himself than to ensure that his bond-partner rested. When they emerged from her quarters, heading for the refectory for the midday meal, he felt confident that he would no longer be caught off-guard by buried griefs while interacting with the Paranian heir. His beloved was, he thought, correct. Kazryth did not seem to know who he was, and it was not seemly – nor was it what his beloved called fair – to direct anger at him for the circumstances of his conception.

  “We should see how Storaas is doing,” Marianne said.

  He nodded and made his way toward the head apothecary’s quarters. There, an aide informed them that Storaas was asleep.

  “It was necessary to sedate your chief advisor,” Cena said, coming out of her study. Her voice was full of provoked undertones. “He would not rest.”

  “How is he?” Marianne asked.

  “He has been neglecting his health. Several of his internal organs are damaged or diseased, in addition to the damage to his heart.”

  “Repair the damage,” the Sural said, “and heal the disease.”

  He sensed his apothecary struggling with his command – she would be concerned for the ethics of treating Storaas against his will, he realized, but her own relief at his orders was also clear. The relief and obedience prevailed. “He will be angry when he awakens and realizes what I have done.”

  “Then tell him I ordered it, so he may direct his anger at me. And keep me informed.”

  “Yes, high one.”

  * * *

  The refectory was full, except for the high table, where only Kyza and Thela sat near the heavy chair at its head. Marianne stifled a chuckle at the satisfaction running through the Sural as he looked around the room and invited all those with enough rank or status to sit with him. He accorded Kazryth the place next to Kyza, who sat in her usual place at the Sural’s right, which displaced Thela. Marianne seated herself at the Sural’s left, Laura by her side. Thela, who understood little English but was very fond of the grandmotherly Laura all the same, squeezed a chair in next to her. The rest of the table crowded with high-ranking artisans and musicians.

  Kazryth, directly across the high table from Laura, caught her eye and gave her a warm smile. “Do you also come from Earth?” he asked in polite Suralian. “Or are you from one of the human colonies
?”

  Laura ventured an uncertain smile and gamely attempted to respond in the same language. “My greetings, yes?”

  Marianne came to her rescue. “Laura is still learning the Sural’s language,” she told him. “I don’t think she understood you.”

  “Ah, forgive me.” He caught Laura’s eye again. “Hello, my name is Kazryth,” he said in passable English. “I am heir to Parania.”

  Laura broke into a delighted grin. “You speak my language!”

  “A little,” he said, returning the grin.

  “I’m Laura Howard. Just call me Laura.” She started to extend a hand across the table, but stopped herself.

  “I am very glad to meet you, Laura,” Kazryth said, and surprised Marianne – and Laura too – by extending his own hand across the table to grasp Laura’s.

  Marianne thought she saw something flash in the Paranian’s eyes, but he was holding his barriers so tight, she couldn’t be sure what it was. Laura gave his hand a firm shake, radiating pleasure, her face wreathed in a huge smile.

  “You’re the first Tolari I’ve met who will shake my hand,” she said.

  He gazed at Laura for a moment, a distracted look in his eyes, before he seemed to shake himself, smiling. “I have been studying human manners. You are an interesting people.”

  “At times,” the Sural said. “They are still undisciplined.”

  Kazryth mouthed the unfamiliar word. “I do not know this word.”

  Marianne gave it in Paranian. He nodded his gratitude, and then did a double take.

  “You speak my language!” he said, in the same tone of voice Laura had used.

  She grinned. “‘A little,’” she quoted, her mouth twitching itself into a grin as she tried – and failed – to keep a straight face.

  “We must speak later,” he said in Paranian, chuckling. Switching back to English, he addressed Laura again. “Do you stay here long?”

  Laura shook her head. “I’m staying here indefinitely,” she answered. “I can’t go home. If things change... maybe someday, but for now, it’s too dangerous for me to leave.”

  “I am very sorry,” Kazryth said, his eyes softening in sympathy. “Do you have family in the human worlds?”

  “Five children, nine grandchildren.”

  “Five heirs?” He blinked several times, his eyebrows climbing.

  “I know,” she said, “it seems like a lot to you. It’s a large family for us, too. People used to have even larger families, hundreds of years ago, but two or three is the usual now. Five or six is the most I have ever seen.”

  Kazryth had his brows drawn together as he tried to follow her words. “Five or six heirs – for two parents?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “But your lives are so short!”

  Laura opened her mouth, closed it, and said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Marianne butted in. “Humans have their children all at once, dear one,” she told Kazryth. “They have a child, then a few Earth years later, another child, then a few years later, another.”

  “Many young children at one time?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Laura. “That’s the usual way.”

  He shook his head slightly, a small, incredulous smile on his lips and, Marianne thought, a gleam of growing respect in his eyes. “And you had five children in this manner?”

  “Yes, exactly. Mine were all about two years apart. Earth years.”

  “I found having my one daughter was a challenge,” he said. “Vondra was very—” He stopped. “I do not know the word.” He looked over at Marianne. “Headstrong,” he said in Paranian. Marianne translated.

  Laura laughed. “Yes, I had a couple of those.”

  “More than one – headstrong – child at one time?”

  “Oh, yes. Patrick was very difficult, and Elizabeth was next to impossible.”

  His smile grew wide. “I am impressed.”

  Laura blushed and looked down. Kazryth’s eyes lit with delight.

  The Sural’s eyes were glittering, and to Marianne’s mind, a little dangerous. “How did you come to name your daughter Vondra?” he asked, affecting casual disinterest.

  He’s not disinterested, she thought, wondering what it was about his daughter’s name that had caught her beloved’s attention. He’s very interested.

  Kazryth cocked an eyebrow, radiating mild surprise at the question. “I was ... uncertain how to name her,” he answered. “Mother suggested it.”

  “Ah. How is your mother?”

  The Paranian’s face clouded. “Not well.”

  “I had not heard this.”

  He glanced at Laura, then back at the Sural, and switched to Suralian. “She allows herself to age,” he explained. “She is now quite old. In truth, it surprised me when she ordered me here. She seldom allows me to leave Parania. When she gave me orders to come here and messages to relay, I think she did not realize who I was.”

  Marianne exchanged a significant look with the Sural. Senility, she thought, would explain much. She sensed the Sural relax as he seemed to come to the same conclusion.

  “I understood a little of that,” Laura said. “Your mother is very old? And you seldom leave Parania?”

  “Yes,” he said with a smile, but he shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject. “Laura, will you like to see the art we brought with us?”

  “Oh, yes, very much!”

  He rose and rounded the table to help her out of her chair. Laura flushed with pleasure and gave him a delighted smile. Marianne grinned as she watched the pair head into the corridor.

  The Sural shook his head. “I did not expect her to draw the attention of a provincial heir,” he said.

  Marianne turned back to him. “I caught the interest. You think he’s attracted?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Well, well, well,” she said. Then she frowned. “Oh my. What if they become entwined? He can’t stay.”

  He shook his head. “Living in my stronghold for the remainder of her days is perhaps not the best outcome for Laura.”

  She huffed. Then she caught his eye. “About the Parania, were you thinking what I was thinking?”

  “That her mind wanders with age? Yes. It would explain much.”

  “Maybe she kept him out of your sight in consideration for your loss.”

  He nodded, staring out the refectory door with a thoughtful expression. “I prefer that theory,” he murmured.

  * * *

  Kazryth offered Laura his arm before they ascended the stairs leading to the top floor. She took it, not even trying to suppress the smile that came to her lips when he covered her hand with his own. Warmth pooled in her belly. She took a deep breath and pushed the feelings away. You only just met him, you silly goose, she thought.

  But he’ll be gone in a few days.

  “I disagree with the Sural,” he said. “Human manners are delightful.”

  Laura pressed her lips together. “I miss my culture,” she admitted. “It’s so nice of the Sural to call this conference for me.”

  “He did this for you?” His eyes were wide.

  “That’s what he said. Where I come from, we have big affairs in ballrooms of reinforced glass, floating over events like special art exhibits and concerts and theater openings. This conference is probably as close to that as you can get on Tolar.” She paused, wondering how much of that he could have understood, and added, “He wanted to entertain me.”

  “Very kind of him,” he said with a warm smile, as he guided her to the first room of Paranian exhibits.

  The room was full of paintings, the sight of which drew a burst of enthusiasm from her. “They’re so vibrant!” she exclaimed. “The Suralian art is exquisite, but this – this is bold.” She stopped in front of a painting of sea creatures breaching during a storm. “Dramatic! Look at the colors!”

  When she glanced up at him, a pleased smile lit his face. “The oldest works begin here,” he said, as he led her towa
rd them. He began, in sometimes halting English, to outline several hundreds of years of art history in his province, as artisans and laborers arranged and rearranged the displays.

  Laura soaked it in, dragging him from one exhibit to another. When he’d told her as much as he knew, she pulled him over to the Sural’s collections to show him the spectacular sculpture by Tarric.

  Kazryth stared at it, unconsciously stroking her hand with his thumb. She couldn’t stop herself from shifting her weight to be a little closer to him. He glanced down at her with a warm look, and her breath caught in her throat. Was he attracted to her? The answering tremors in her stomach took her by surprise. If he wanted her as much as she was beginning to want him...

  You’re too old for this, she told herself sternly.

  The part of her that was interested in Kazryth denied that. Sixty wasn’t old. And it wasn’t like she looked her age, even then; she’d had the best care Central Command could offer. She didn’t look a day past her early fifties, and she could still fit into the wedding dress she wore at nineteen. He appeared to be about her own age of sixty, but if he was grey, and men four times her age still had black hair...

  She gave him a sideways glance. It couldn’t hurt to flirt a little. After all, this Tolari prince was acting very much the gentleman, and the schoolgirl quivers she was having were a welcome change from the dreary loneliness of missing John. She smiled up at him. Heat flickered in his eyes, and her knees turned to jelly.

  He looked back at the sculpture. “Do you understand bonding?” he asked.

  “A little. Marianne told me about it.”

  “It is more than the body. This pair, their hearts are joined. Like two ices melting into one pool. Then, when they are apart again, some of each one is with the other. Always. Like water, they cannot be unmixed. They are never alone again.”

  Never alone again. A pang shot through her. He patted her hand gently. “My heart grieves for your pain.”

  Laura swallowed. “That’s right,” she said, feeling a little rueful that she’d forgotten he was an empath like the rest of them. “You can sense everything I feel, especially if you’re touching me.”

  “Does this trouble you?” He turned and searched her eyes, concern flickering across his face.