by Derr, Megan
Ikram blinked and followed her gaze—then recalled that without his robe, only in vest and pants, the tattoos on his arms were bared.
As he'd been twenty-four when he'd left the Cobra Tribe, he'd had plenty of years to work on his tattoo. The snake skin pattern ran the length of his arms, from wrists up to and across his shoulders, the two halves coming together to trail down his back and chest. Had he stayed with the tribe, eventually it would have covered his entire body.
He almost winced, thinking of the looks he would get both on his way back to the palace and once he was inside. Ah, well. It was far more important Valerie not go through town with her robes in such poor condition. "Can I escort you home?" he asked.
Valerie shook her head. "No, I do not live far from here—and from now on I will not take this shortcut."
"Do you suppose if we arrange our next meeting, we might avoid catastrophe?" Ikram asked, praying to the Lady that this lady would not turn him down.
"I … yes, I think so," Valerie said. "Have you a location in mind, my lord?"
Ikram barely kept himself from cheering—then he realized he hadn't actually thought as far as location. He scrambled for a suitable location. "The public gardens? We can meet there say, about this time, and perhaps go to dinner?"
"That sounds lovely," Valerie said with another of those dazzling sweet smiles, and Ikram thought strangely that she seemed sort of surprised. "Tomorrow evening at the entrance to the public gardens." She bowed. "And thank you for rescuing me, my lord."
"An honor to assist you, my lady. I hope the Lady guards your steps on your way home." He cut himself off before he could thoroughly confuse her with a greeting he had not used in years. Something about her woke all his old habits, and he wasn't sure why. Bowing low, he turned and left before he wound up doing something stupid.
*~*~*
"My lady," Ikram greeted, holding her hands briefly, "You look more beautiful than ever."
Valerie's pale cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "My lord."
Ikram realized he was probably always going to be caught staring where she was concerned. She really was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, especially those green eyes. Her dress was a darker shade than her eyes, making them more stunning than ever, with simple beadwork all along the edges and throat—glass beads, likely, though he burned to put her in jewels. Her hair, sadly, was braided and twisted up. Pretty, but he wished she'd left it down. "Are you up for a walk before we dine?"
"I would love to," Valerie answered, neatly folding her wrap around her shoulders before accepting his arm.
"Is there a particular flower you enjoy?" Ikram asked.
Valerie smiled wistfully. "I used to love orchids. My mother had a small orchid garden before she passed away. I'm afraid I was unable to maintain it after she passed on and I had to move to the city."
Ikram nodded. "The palace has quite a collection. Perhaps you can come and see them sometime."
"Perhaps," Valerie murmured, and Ikram knew she was just being polite, not believing for a moment that she'd ever go to the palace.
She'd learn differently. If no one else in Tavamara had been smart enough to stake a claim on this jewel, he wasn't going to be stupid enough to give them a second try. He'd helped her twice, by sheer chance happening to be in the area. The Lady did not need to tell him three times.
"Where I grew up, the vegetation is quite different. If there is any vegetation at all."
"Yes," Valerie said, face filled with curiosity. "I … it was quite clear yesterday that you had an … interesting upbringing. You called yourself a savage … that means you are from the desert? It is not something I've heard much about."
Ikram slowed their walk further as they reached the rose gardens—the royal family had long been famous, some said infamous, for their love of plants and flowers. The king's great grandfather had been the one to build the public gardens, to share his love of green things with his people. His descendants had maintained and added to them. He spoke as she admired the rosebushes. "Yes, I was raised in the desert. I grew up in the Cobra Tribe, which is marked by a body tattoo made to look like snakeskin. Mine was never completed, as I left the tribe."
"It was most impressive," Valerie replied, cheeks heating as she turned hastily away to bury her nose in a pale yellow rose.
Grinning, unable to help himself, Ikram continued speaking. "I left the desert about seven years ago, choosing to remain here in Tavamara. My family was not happy, and I miss them, but I find I prefer life here. Far more peaceful."
Valerie laughed. "Far more peaceful when you are not having to rescue silly redheads."
"I am sorry you were being troubled, but I'm not sorry I was your rescuer."
"Nor I," Valerie said softly to a cream-colored rose. She finally looked up at Ikram, smiling. "You are the first truly friendly face I've encountered since coming here."
"If you do not mind my asking, I confess I'm curious as to what a native of Lavarre is doing making her home in Tavamara?"
Valerie looked away, smiling sadly. "I grew tired of being controlled, and the people seeking to control me also wanted to take certain things from me. I could not permit it, and so I fled. I took the first ship on its way out and wound up here."
"Quite brave of you to simply board a ship and see where it might take you."
"If I had stayed, I would have lost everything," Valerie said quietly, fingers gently stroking the petals of a dark pink rose. "By comparison, heading for lands unknown is not such a hard thing." She laughed faintly and turned back to Ikram. "Though I think I would have had an easier time of it had I been able to use a blade as easily as you."
Ikram made a face. "My skill comes at a high price." The blood of Scorpions was only part of that price. He didn't want to kill anymore.
Valerie nodded and dropped the subject, fingers curling once more into the crook of his arm as they resumed walking. "So what exactly do you do in the palace?"
Learn how to cleverly tell kings what they should be doing, and that aggravating his council was not on that list. Training a prince not to follow in his father's footsteps. "Various things. I'm … a glorified clerk, I suppose you could say."
"You look a trifle mature to be a clerk, I think," Valerie said teasingly.
"Surely I don't appear to be that old?" Ikram asked, holding a hand to his chest.
Valerie laughed. "Not at all."
"I'm certain many think I'm far too old to be showing you around the gardens."
"I'm no young miss, sadly. I think a younger girl would probably want to be taken to one of those pretty cafes and show you off." She smiled. "I am just as happy to keep you to myself."
This was much more fun than careful games to cautiously gauge interest. More like the desert—direct. "And I you. Truly, I'm surprised you are not already claimed."
Valerie laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. "Someone once told me I was a trifle too much like my hair, if you see what I mean."
"Perhaps that is a problem in Lavarre, my lady, but in Tavamara it is to be commended. I am glad Lavarre was stupid enough to let you get away." He stopped again as they reached a section that was mostly taken over by a large pond, noticing the way Valerie stared at the water lilies.
Valerie nodded at his words, and smiled before moving closer to the pond, but again Ikram had the sense that something troubled her, or that she didn't believe him.
Well, he was nothing if not patient. "So what other things do you enjoy, my lady?"
"Valerie, please, my lord. I'm only a humble peasant, I feel silly being called lady."
Ikram thought about it for half a second, but he was ultimately a Cobra—he knew when to strike. "I am not calling you 'lady,' however. I am calling you 'my lady.'"
"Ah," Valerie said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and once more taking his arm. "I suppose I could permit that."
"Where would you like to dine tonight, my lady?" Ikram asked.
Valerie smiled and held his arm just a bit tighter. "There's a quiet little place I've seen over on the west end that always looked inviting, and it's too mature for the younger girls, so I won't have to worry about them stealing you away."
Ikram laughed. "There is no fear of that. Let us look at the wildflowers and then we'll go."
*~*~*
Ikram had finally figured out why men spent all their time arguing and fighting—between eating and sleeping.
He would much rather fight Scorpions than face Valerie tonight. A bloody battle was far, far easier than asking her to marry him.
Even though he was pretty certain she'd say yes. Hadn't things been going perfectly for the past couple of months?
He ignored the part of him that said Valerie had been increasingly unhappy about something, and that all his efforts to discover the source of it had ended in failure.
As had finding out where she lived—for he wouldn't follow her, that implied distrust.
She never talked about her past, except in snippets. Never about her life in Tavamara, except in snippets.
All in all, she knew much about him—though he still wasn't ready to tell her he would be the king's advisor in probably just a year or so—but he knew very little about her.
He did, however, know she was sweet, kind, beautiful—perfect. No one and nothing could be more perfect.
Well, them getting married would be more perfect.
Which brought him back to desperately wanting to go and find a Scorpion to beat up. Possibly several. Ikram rolled his eyes and forced himself not to check on the ring tucked into a hidden pocket of his sash for the millionth time.
They'd agreed last night, before he'd finally let her go home, to meet today at the café which had become their favorite spot. It was only a few minutes from the public gardens, but tucked away so that it was never crowded and usually only patronized by a few dozen regulars and the occasional stranger.
He waited impatiently at what had become their table, trying to look as though he was the epitome of patience—he rather thought from the look the waiter was giving him that he was failing miserably however. Rolling his eyes again, Ikram signaled the man to bring wine.
Moments later the wine was poured, a dark, rusty red, perfect for early autumn. It was spicy and sweet, a perfect compliment to the pastries Valerie was so fond of.
Just as he thought he would scream with frustration, the scent of lilacs washed over him and he turned and stood, catching her hands and kissing them. "Valerie. I think you like making me wait," he teased—and stared in horror at the way her face collapsed into misery.
"Ikram," Valerie said, looking at him a moment before dropping her eyes, which were unusually dark. "We need to talk."
Dread twisted his stomach. This wasn't how this evening was supposed to be going. "What's wrong, my jewel?"
If anything, the endearment only seemed to make her more miserable. Feeling sick, Ikram helped her into her seat and gave her his own full dish of wine, not taking his own seat until she had several sips and seemed calmer, if not any happier. "Now tell me what's wrong, my jewel."
For a moment it looked as though Valerie was going to cry, something he'd never seen her do, not even that day in the alley way. "I … Ikram …"
"Just say it, my jewel. All will be well."
"Ikram, the time I've spent with you has been the happiest time of my life," Valerie said to her wine dish. Slowly she looked up, voice growing fainter with every word. "I don't think it's presumptuous of me to think that you wanted our relationship to take a more serious step."
"That's why I wanted to meet tonight," Ikram said, heart sinking.
Valerie nodded, and Ikram wondered what he'd done so horribly wrong that the woman who should be agreeing to marry him instead looked as though she were discussing a funeral. "I … You're wonderful, Ikram. All that you've told me of your past, your family … I cannot fathom why they would choose to reject you. You deserve a real wife, someone who would bring you honor and a wonderful family."
"I want you to be my wife," Ikram said, amazed at how easy the words were to say when he seemed to be on the verge of losing the only thing he'd ever really and truly wanted.
At his words, Valerie started crying.
Ikram felt like he was drowning.
"I can't marry you," Valerie said, more miserable than Ikram thought it possible for a person to be. "I should never have led you along, except you're the first man to make me so happy, to treat me like a person rather than a pawn to be used and discarded." She wiped the tears from her face. "I am sorry to have been so cruel. I was selfish, and I would continue to be selfish, except I love you. You deserve a real wife. I cannot be that. Truly, I am sorry. I … please don't hate me completely." She looked for a moment like she wanted to say something more, then merely shook her head and stood. "Goodbye," she whispered, then fled the café.
Ikram waited just long enough that she'd be far enough ahead of him, then threw down several coins and followed after her.
Lady take the dratted woman, he had not acted like a complete idiot and spent the bulk of his savings on her and the ring in his sash just for the woman to vanish in a flurry of tears. What could be tormenting her so? Why wouldn't she trust him? The minute he had the ring on her finger, he was going to shake her until something resembling sense found its way into her head.
Honestly, he was beginning to think of all those battles with a nostalgic pang.
Though he'd never followed her home, he'd made note of the routes she took whenever they parted ways, where she came from when she met him somewhere. He knew precisely which street she took when leaving the café, and took that, moving slowly but steadily.
Sure enough, five minutes later, he saw her several yards ahead of him. Head and shoulders drooping, moving as though she had something to outrun.
It was early evening, still plenty of light, but Ikram had learned how to hide when there was nothing but sand all around him. He ducked out of sight every time she turned to look over her shoulder. Was it just his imagination that she looked sort of disappointed whenever she saw that no one was there?
Probably, but a man could hope. He wasn't going to take tears and 'you deserve a real wife' for an answer. No, the only answer he was going to take was 'yes, Ikram.'
Though he would have preferred it be done over dinner like he'd been imagining in his head almost since they met, not after acting like a Ghost and shaking sense into her. Sighing at himself, Ikram waited until she resumed walking briskly and then followed her, ducking into another corner right before she looked over her shoulder again.
He hadn't expected her to live so far from the middle of the city; the houses got poorer and poorer as they went, and Ikram grew increasingly horrified.
She'd never elaborated on her past, but it wasn't hard to tell that she had some sort of noble upbringing—he'd always burned to know why she'd really fled Lavarre. That she lived in such an awful district of the city …
It terrified him. He was taking her home tonight, even if he had to be savage about it and carry her off. They were going to the palace, he was going to make her see reason, and then they could begin to plan their wedding ceremony.
Though he'd just as soon have the king marry them and be done, but he'd been around enough women in his life to know that even the most level headed got strange things into her head where a wedding was concerned.
He shook off his wandering thoughts as Valerie slowed down and finally stopped at the edge of a cluster of houses. Houses like this were really just one or two rooms to a family or person, the building surrounding a courtyard on three sides, the open side spilling into the street. Little communities, they shared the duties of caring for the building, the rent cheap for that reason and the fact that it was right on the edge of town.
So often she'd said she lived 'nearby' and Ikram felt cold, sick, at how easy it would have been for more men to assault her.
The woman called herself weak … sh
e should be calling herself insane. He was going to shake her within an inch of her life.
Though he knew there was no other man in her life, he almost wished there was so he could beat someone senseless for allowing Valerie to travel alone in so dangerous a district.
Still she stood at the edge of the courtyard, not quite going toward the building where she lived. Ikram realized she was drying her eyes, trying to make it look as though all was well. He fisted his hands, making himself hold still, fighting the urge to go up and comfort her. Somehow, he was responsible for those tears, and that thought tore him apart. They were supposed to be celebrating; instead he was slinking around like a criminal and she was crying all alone on a dangerous street.