She pulled away to sit on a divan.
“I know why he had to do it,” she said, as he took a seat and put an arm around her. “He was just protecting Tolar. Marianne told me his side of it – I was there with John, but they were speaking Tolari, and I couldn’t understand them. She told me the Sural ordered John to leave Tolari space, and he wouldn’t go. I know Addie was egging him on – I could see that much. When I think about how Addie used my husband and got him killed ...” She clamped her mouth shut, anger making the muscles in her jaw ripple.
He wasn’t sure of the exact meaning of all the words she’d used, but made a guess from the rest of what she said. She blamed a human named Addie for John’s death more than she blamed the Sural. Even if she realized he’d had no choice, Kazryth could understand how it could be difficult for Laura to live in the Suralian stronghold.
“At least the Sural didn’t kill the whole ship, or I’d be dead too,” she finished.
“I am glad he did not,” he murmured.
She half-laughed, her tone bitter. “For weeks, I wished he had killed the ship,” she said. “Since then, I’ve wished every day that I could be with John just one more time. I—” Her eyes went to his. “I shouldn’t say these things to you.”
He gave her a squeeze. “You will always miss him.”
“I feel disloyal,” she said, looking away and biting her lip.
“No.” He shook his head. “Your John is part of you, always, but he is your past, not your ... he is not your now. He is not your tomorrow.” He made a frustrated noise. “I must learn more English.”
“I’m trying to learn Tolari,” she offered. “But I’m not very smart, and it’s hard.”
“You try to learn Suralian,” he corrected, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Suralian is very difficult. Paranian is easier.”
“Oh?”
“Very much easier.”
As she nodded again, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she were stifling a sudden yawn.
“You are fatigued?”
“Excuse me,” she said. She heaved a sigh, apparently trying to stifle another yawn. “Yes. Very tired. I just don’t want you to go.”
A smile danced onto his lips. “I can stay.”
“Can you?” Her smile was a little uncertain. “I don’t think I’m up for ... more ... not after ...”
He chuckled. “We will sleep,” he said.
Chapter Sixteen
Waking up next to someone again was wonderful.
Laura opened her eyes to find Kazryth gazing at her with his head propped on one elbow and a smile in his deep brown eyes. It warmed and aroused her, even at her age and in spite of all the ... activity ... the evening before.
Really, Laura, she thought. You’re acting like a wanton.
But it was the best way to wake up.
“Good morning, my love,” Kazryth said, and leaned over with the obvious intent of giving her a kiss. She reached to put a hand behind his neck and pulled, and he toppled onto her, landing nose to nose. “I can like this,” he said, grinning.
Coherent thought fled in a tangle of bodies.
The brilliant colors of dawn had faded into a turquoise summer sky before she gave him one last lingering kiss and dragged him off her sleeping mat to the bathing area. When they emerged, clean and playfully swatting at each other with the smooth, absorbent cloths that Tolari used for toweling, they found the servants had taken the opportunity to clean the room and leave them fresh robes.
Laura donned the robe and trousers left for her and spun around. “Look at this,” she exclaimed. “Purple! I’ve been wearing light blue for so long. It’s been something over two months, I think.”
Kazryth donned his pale green. “I have always worn the color of my province,” he said, a bemused smile on his lips. “But you are in the artisan caste now. You can go anywhere, wearing their color.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m looking forward to seeing your province. Is it very different?”
“It is much warmer than Suralia. We are near the—” He frowned. Then he brought his hands up and made a fist with one hand while running a circle around it with the other index finger. “Middle of planet?”
She knew that one. “Equator.”
He mouthed the word before saying it aloud. “Equator.” He looked around him and gave a slight shiver. “Suralia is cold. The people are cold. Parania is warm. My people are friendly.”
“I think you’re wrong. The people here only seem cold. They’re really very warm. Even the Sural.”
“Tell me again, after you meet my people,” he said with a smug grin, and dropped into the lonely chair sitting against one wall.
She laughed at his pride, starting a little as a servant appeared out of nowhere to deal with his hair. So that’s what that chair is for. When the servant was done and he was on his … peds … again, she tucked a hand under his arm. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”
* * *
Marianne had to look twice when Laura strolled into the refectory wearing a deep purple robe. “You look wonderful in that color,” she said.
Laura beamed. “Thank you!”
The Sural indicated that Kazryth and Laura should take Kyza’s and Thela’s customary places and murmured a welcome. Then the two girls pelted into the room, chasing each other. Since their seats were taken, they piled their food next to the Sural’s and crowded onto his lap, each girl perched on one knee. A gleam of parental satisfaction glinted in his eyes.
He loved being surrounded by friends and family so much, Marianne thought. It was hard for her to picture how long he’d been alone – more than 260 years. Alone so long! It challenged her ability to imagine it.
Kazryth interrupted her musing by switching to Suralian and addressing Thela. “I am honored to greet you,” he said. “I have heard much of your ability since I arrived. When you are of age, will you give a concert in Parania?”
“You honor me, high one,” Thela replied, very formally, with a shy smile. “I would be pleased to perform for Parania.”
“I will direct your tutors to add the music of Paranian composers to your lessons,” the Sural said.
Kyza, whom Marianne had taught English as well as five other human languages, jumped in with more suggestions for Thela’s education. “You should also learn human languages,” she said. “At least English. Then you could understand Laura.”
Thela glanced from Kyza to Laura and back. “You will be Father’s ambassador to the humans, so you need to know their languages. I have no time for it.”
“You could if you wanted. You are too lazy.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Thela huffed. “Not!”
“Are!”
“Daughters,” the Sural growled.
“Forgive me, Father,” they said, almost in unison, wincing at the force of his disapproval.
Marianne strangled a laugh. The Sural shot her a reproving look as well, and she pasted a contrite expression on her face, her lips twitching. Across the table, Laura coughed in an apparent effort to cover mirth. Marianne didn’t think she could have understood much of the exchange, but experienced mother and grandmother that she was, she didn’t have to understand the words. Then, for no apparent reason, Laura dissolved into peals of laughter, leaning helplessly against Kazryth.
The girls looked over at Laura. Kyza shrugged a shoulder at Thela, at which point Marianne lost her battle to control her amusement and laughed.
“Perhaps,” the Sural said to Marianne, in a carefully neutral voice, “your daughter will give you reason to exercise your patience.”
Marianne only burst into fresh giggles, Laura joining her. Kazryth, who seemed more inclined to sympathize with the Sural, gave him a knowing look and a slight smile. The Sural raised an eyebrow. For a moment he looked as if he was going to say something, but instead he shook his head and went back to eating.
“My
daughter was very trying,” Kazryth told the Sural, in Paranian. “I do not envy you two strong-willed daughters.”
The Sural’s mouth twitched. “My father had a great deal of difficulty with me,” he replied. “As I fathered the Marann’s child, it would not be implausible to suppose she will have some difficulty with her own daughter.”
Marianne wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “I do understand Paranian, you know,” she pointed out, stifling a chuckle. “And there is no way to know how difficult Kyza might become as an adolescent.” She reached out to touch the Sural’s wrist. “Forgive me, beloved. I really did not mean to undermine your authority. That was just ... too amusing.”
The Sural’s reply was interrupted by a chime and an insistent buzzing coming from under the table. Kazryth frowned and pulled his tablet out of a pocket. His face drained of expression and his presence faded as he read.
He can close his barriers completely, Marianne thought. It was a rare ability. A sense of foreboding came over her. What had happened that would provoke him to exercise it?
The room went silent. She wasn’t the only one wondering why Kazryth had shut his barriers.
After a few moments, he pocketed his tablet. “I am the Paran,” he said, in a quiet voice that carried across the room. Paranians in the refectory gasped and began to weep.
Another tone chimed. The Sural pulled out his tablet. “The Jorann summons you,” he said, still speaking Paranian – out of respect, Marianne thought. He lowered his voice and added, “My heart grieves for your pain.”
Kazryth – the Paran – glanced at the Sural. “My gratitude, dear one,” he replied in the same language, with a sigh. “Her health was stable when I left.”
Laura looked from Marianne to the Sural to the man at her side and back to Marianne. “What’s happened?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Ka – ”
“Don’t use his name!” Marianne interrupted.
Laura flinched. “What? Why not?”
“His mother just died.” Marianne kept her voice pitched low. “He rules Parania now. You must never use his name again.”
“Like the Sural?”
She nodded. “He is the Paran.”
Laura turned to him. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
He put a hand over hers with a grateful look and closed his eyes. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes again and straightened.
“Have you Parania brocade here?” he asked the Sural, his voice steady.
The Sural busied himself with his tablet, nodding. “You will find it in your guest quarters.”
When she’d worn Suralia brocade to visit the Jorann, Marianne thought, it had made her feel like a swaddled infant. Or perhaps a mummy. Parania brocade would be green – five layers of the stuff, in five shades of the color. The dark inner layers were soft and lined for warmth in the frigid cold of the Jorann’s ice cave; the pale outer layers were heavy.
The Paran turned back to Laura. “My love,” he said in a low voice, “I must go to the Jorann. When I return, I must leave for Parania immediately. Will you be ready to come with me?”
Laura looked caught off-guard by the suddenness of it all, despite her announcement the night before that she wanted to leave with him.
“I must return to Parania,” he repeated. “After I see the Jorann, I must leave immediately.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
In a very un-Tolari-like fashion for such a public place, the Paran caught Laura’s head in his hands and kissed her, long and deep. Marianne bit her lip, choking back tears. Laura was leaving. Today. After everything the poor woman had gone through, she deserved all the happiness she could find, but ... Marianne was going to miss her terribly.
The Paran pulled away and left the refectory without looking back. Laura sat breathless and blushing, watching him go. After he was gone, she turned back to the table and met Marianne’s eyes.
“Don’t say it,” she warned.
Marianne shook her head. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “I just wish this didn’t mean that you’re leaving.”
Laura heaved a sigh, her face relaxing in obvious relief. “I’ll be back. Suralia and Parania are allies. I can visit any time I want, as far as K— as far as the Paran is concerned.”
“Again, you are always welcome here,” the Sural said.
A grateful smile lit her face. “Thank you.”
“I know it has been difficult for you,” he said in a softer voice. Then he looked at the two girls on his knees. “Kyza, Thela, go to your tutors,” he told them, in a tone that brooked no disobedience.
“Yes, Father,” they both said, slipping off his knees and scampering out of the refectory.
“Marianne, please send word when Cena thinks you’re close,” Laura said. “I don’t want to miss your daughter’s birth.”
“I will,” Marianne replied.
“You can communicate with each other directly,” the Sural said. “Ask the Paran for a tablet with the capability. I will make one available to Marianne.”
Marianne beamed a smile at the Sural, who quit his chair and bowed, offering each of them one of his arms.
“Shall I escort you to the morning concert?” he asked. “A Suralian performs today.”
* * *
“I am hungry,” Storaas said, surprised at himself.
Cena hovered nearby. “Good,” she said. She helped him to sit up and handed him a mug of tea. An aide offered him a trencher of food.
“I will be monitoring you closely, Storaas,” Cena said as he bit into a roll. “It was necessary to repair a great deal of damage to a number of your organs.”
He suppressed the annoyance that shot through him. “You only delay the inevitable,” he said.
“Vent your anger on the Sural.” Her eyes glittered. “He ordered me to act.”
“I cannot live forever.”
Cena crossed her arms. “You will if I am taking care of you.”
* * *
Laura declined to attend any of the art sessions after the morning concert, going instead to her quarters, where she paced, trying to calm herself. The man she was falling in love with had just lost his mother – and she knew what that was like. Her eyes went moist. Blinking the tears back, she wrapped her arms around herself and halted by the window of her sitting room, gazing out at the stronghold gardens.
The man I’m falling in love with. And John gone ... only four months, she reckoned, or maybe five. After forty-one years of marriage. What was she thinking? Was she crazy? Good lord, woman, you’re sixty years old. Act like it and control yourself.
Control herself. Ha. It was far too late for that. Perhaps if she hadn’t spent the rest of the day after lunch with K— with the Paran, if they hadn’t talked half the night, if she hadn’t let him kiss her after the morning concert, maybe then she might have been able to keep a rein on herself and not ended up in bed with him.
Or she might have kept a grip on herself, if he didn’t look exactly like the sort of man she had dreamed about when she was a girl. That really didn’t help. Head over heels she went, and now she was getting ready to go off into unknown parts of Tolar with him – a man she’d only just met. Widows her age didn’t act like this.
Hours ago, he’d gone off to see the Jorann, summoned bare minutes after receiving word that his mother had died. Couldn’t the Jorann even give him some time to grieve? You’d think she was old enough to have some patience. Surely a few days would have been soon enough.
But there it was. The Jorann would be taking his name away and bonding him to his people. She couldn’t imagine what that was like, but the Tolari seemed to believe it was necessary. How do you take someone’s name away? What did it feel like?
And now he was the Paran. She shook her head. She’d liked his name, but she could never speak it again, and Marianne said she shouldn’t even think it, to prevent slipping and saying it out loud. That, her young friend had said, would actually cause him pain.
&
nbsp; And after he returned to his province and his people pledged their lives to his, he would be the living representation of them. She supposed, she thought wickedly, from now on when she made love to him, she was making love to Parania.
She shook her head again and smiled to herself. My Tolari prince – my Latin lover. She’d found, quite by accident, a man who seemed to want nothing more than to make her happy. How lucky could a girl get? He wasn’t jealous of her grief over John and wasn’t trying to compete with him; he only wanted to be a part of her life now. And he was a prince.
No, a monarch, now. And that made her ... made her what? She could marry him, but it wouldn’t make her a queen, or anything like it – not that she had any ambition to be a queen. And it wasn’t marriage; it was bonding. Would he want to bond with her? Would she even be able to do that? Being able to join their hearts together, being able to feel his emotions as if they were her own – for all that she could usually pick up on what other people were feeling, she knew she couldn’t do that.
The idea was incredibly appealing, though.
Well then, to bond, she would have to become Tolari, as Marianne had. She would face that when she came to it. If he asked her to bond with him, she’d take the Jorann’s blessing so she could, or if she started to feel too old and wanted to be young again, or if ... or if she just wanted to, because being human on this planet wasn’t exactly safe when it came to food.
A knock sounded at the door. Her heart skipped a beat. Amused to see herself acting like a love-struck teenager, she ran to the door and flung it open.
Of course it was the Paran. No one else would have knocked. He looked different, standing in the hall in front of her door, a new air of authority draped about him, wearing a new robe covered with white embroidery from collar to waist instead of just on the collar and cuffs. It took a moment for her to realize what the difference was. His face was younger. The lines were gone, though his hair was still grey.
He bowed. She moved aside to let him into the room and flung herself into his arms as soon as the door was closed, pulling away to look at him.
“You’re changed,” she said.
She reached up to touch his cheek. He smiled, his eyes warm with affection.
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