NO WORDS ALONE
Page 17
Xera looked at the wall while she gathered her thoughts. “When I asked him about Tovark, Ryven said he broke him financially and socially. He made the whole thing seem very bloodless, but when I saw Tovark yesterday…” She looked at Shiza.
He appeared disapproving. “You think Ryven lied to you?”
“I think he omitted a few details.” They had a silent standoff for a moment.
Shiza watched her with crossed arms, as if calculating his answer. “The social retribution was for what Tovark did to Namae. The physical punishment concerned what he did to her maid.”
Xera felt her stomach clench. “What was that?”
His look chastened her. “Doubtless he wished to spare you, but it seems too late for that now. Tovark couldn’t reach Namae—her family would no longer permit it. It angered him, so he sought a less well-guarded target. He took her maid and savaged her instead.…Since he didn’t rape her, he was not sentenced to death, but as a member of the family who employed her, Ryven was given permission to execute justice, short of maiming and blinding. You’ve seen the results.”
She took a breath. “So Ryven hunted him down and…”
“Fought him, though Tovark has little skill to boast of. Did you think he was restrained for Ryven’s pleasure? That isn’t how we serve justice.”
“I didn’t know what to think, which is why I asked,” Xera said, feeling sick. “Thank you, I understand now. What happened to the maid?”
Shiza looked pensive. “Namae’s family paid for the recovery, but the girl wanted nothing more to do with serving great houses. She returned home and eventually married.”
At least there was that. “I can see why Xtal punched him. Ugh!” Xera shook her head as if to dislodge the thought. “Okay, I need something more pleasant to think about, and there was one more thing. When is Ryven’s birthday?”
Shiza looked puzzled by the question, but after a long pause he told her. She thanked him and said good-bye.
Of course, she wasn’t really able to shake the story of the maid from her mind so quickly; that sort of thing took a while to process. It was better knowing the truth than doubting her husband’s restraint, though. She had enough problems on her plate without adding that.
Chapter Seventeen
Each day, Xera added an entry to a journal. She’d found the tome in a shop that sold handmade paper and bound books. She’d been charmed by some flower petal paper and amused by a selection of scented inks, but it was the tooled leather notebook with creamy, faintly speckled paper that caught her eye. She hadn’t kept a journal in years, but knew the practice was therapeutic. Figuring she could use a little therapy, she bought the book. Now she used it to keep track of her thoughts. It provided a useful sounding board, and she would consult the entries to fill out messages she would send to her sisters.
Ryven had told her she could send one message a week, and he was generous at that. The cost of pin beam over such distances was prohibitive, to say the least, but she was grateful for everything she could get. It was fortunate he was such a wealthy man, and even more so that her family could afford the bill. It was an expensive way to communicate, but she certainly felt the money was well spent.
She was starting to settle into a routine—one she knew she’d use often, if this separation were usual with Ryven’s job. She missed him, but also realized that even if he were there she couldn’t own every minute of his day. She was thinking of getting a part-time job, something that wouldn’t interfere with her studies. The whole ambassador gig was all good and well, but it made for some slow days when the people she was supposed to represent were light years away.
She smiled, thinking ruefully that she was a true working-class girl. She’d landed in the lap of luxury with few demands on her time, and suddenly the idea of owning her own tavern and busting her tail waiting tables sounded appealing. Not that she really wanted to go back to that, specifically; nor did she want to run a staff of maids as she had done. Being in charge had been an interesting challenge, even though she’d worked as hard at scrubbing as any of the others and been forced to deal with the staff, too. She wasn’t sure what she wanted; she just felt restless. Maybe she needed to own her own business.
Then again, maybe it was more her sisters and less the inn that she missed. Even that was changing now, with Gem married and reproducing, and Brandy’s on-again-off-again relationship. Xera wondered what the status was on that now. She supposed it didn’t really matter; her sisters’ world was closed to her. It was just that she missed her siblings, wondered how they were.
It didn’t help that she didn’t really feel accepted by Ryven’s family. Oh, it had started off well enough, but things were hardly ideal. The lord governor welcomed her, but he just wanted a wife for his son. Tessla was determined to mold Xera into her idea of a lady, because that’s what clan matriarchs did. Namae was all right, but Ryven’s other sisters and wider family made her feel excluded. They were polite, but they had nothing in common with Xera. She had seen a faint look of horror on one lady’s face when she said how much she enjoyed martial arts, and another woman had looked at her as if pained and begun another topic when Xera mentioned how she used to help toss the drunks out of the taproom. They didn’t say anything negative to her face, but she’d seen her sisters-in-law exchange speaking looks. They never said anything hurtful, but they never warmed up, either. Their husbands studied Xera as if they didn’t know what to make of her. Everywhere she went she got second glances. She was different. Alien.
Ruthlessly she shook off the melancholy. Perhaps it was time to assess what her strengths and skills were, maybe do a little research into Scorpio business practices. It might even be worth her while to take a class or two. It would give her something to do.
She mentioned as much to Ryven in an electronic letter.
No, was his one word reply.
She stared in disbelief at the terse message. What did he mean, no? She wrote in response, I hope you didn’t mean to sound rude, boy. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, though I admit I’m rather annoyed. After some thought, she deleted boy and put in Atarus. She went on, I think I would make a great business owner, and it would keep me occupied while you are away on long trips. You’d rather have me busy than moping about after you, wouldn’t you? She thought about adding more, but decided there was no need to rant.
His reply arrived twenty minutes after she sent her message. It read, You’re bored. I will give you something to do.
She huffed. Bored? What was he planning to do, have her knit socks? She wasn’t the type of woman who enjoyed sitting at home doing handicrafts. She was itching to be productive. She’d worked herself into a fine state, in fact, when the door chime sounded. Still scowling, she went to answer.
Lady Tessla looked amused. “I see the bridal days are over. Ready to take the mantle of a real wife, are you?”
Nonplussed, Xera stepped aside as the lady swept into the room. “I’m frankly grateful you’re the industrious sort. Try as I might, I could not coax my nieces to assume the role of family hostess. Coercion didn’t work any better on them than it did on my daughters. Spoiled, really. Too used to their amusements and projects. Well.” She looked Xera over with almost avaricious glee. “And here you are, bored, trained to run a staff and host entertainments, with nothing else to do.”
Xera coughed on her astonished amusement. “Ryven contacted you, didn’t he?”
The lady raised a brow. “If a two sentence note counts as contact. ‘My wife is bored. She’d make a great hostess, wouldn’t she?’ But naturally, he had to say no more.”
“I see,” Xera said. Sort of. Still, Tessla’s enthusiasm was contagious. Perhaps this is what she needed. “What did you have in mind?”
What the woman had in mind turned out to be exhausting. She was giving a little party for three hundred close family members and friends. Everything from the selection of music for the dance, dining arrangements and menu planning would have to be arranged. Xer
a would be required to meet with the head chef, decorators, musicians and florists and help plan the menu. In addition to that, she was to greet the guests at the door with Ryven, who would be standing in for his father as was customary at these functions. Tessla declared it would now be her privilege to join her brother, whom she said had been allowed to enjoy himself alone for far too long.
“Youth must be trained to replace experience,” the lady declared. “And one day you will be experienced and training youth. It’s a very tidy circle, you see.”
Xera frowned, her head already buzzing with endless lists of details. “You’re not planning to kick off anytime soon, are you? I mentioned I’d been in charge of cleaning maids, not the whole inn. My sister Gem could likely do the whole thing without losing sleep but—”
Tessla waved her hand. “You admit the skill is in your blood. You will adapt.” She smiled. “You’ll have to. We have events of this magnitude at least once a month, with smaller dinners weekly. Now that Ryven is married, he can finally set up a proper house hold and entertain.”
Xera sighed. So, she’d become a hostess of what was essentially a rotating dining hall. She supposed there were worse fates. It did throw a damper on her plans for a part-time job. Apparently being married to Ryven was employment in itself.
“Your friends will want to reciprocate, too,” continued Lady Tessla. “I imagine you’ll find yourself with more invitations than you can accept. You begin to see why I exercise diligently.”
Xera shook her head, smiling. “You’re turning me into a politician’s wife.”
Tessla smiled in return. “Only showing you the path, dear. You’ve already arrived at the door, you see.” She patted Xera’s arm. “You’ll be wonderful. Now, about this menu…”
To Xera’s surprise, her sisters-in-law privately confided their thanks for taking on their terror of an aunt. When she just smiled and said she didn’t mind a bit, that it was actually enjoyable at times, they were even more impressed. Her status rose within the family hierarchy.
From her point of view, she was doing nothing to advance it. But Xera soon observed that those in charge of social activities were greatly respected—provided they did a good job, of course. Nobody esteemed a miserly or awkward hostess. Xera had never been shy, however, and understood that adequate portion size and an abundance of good drinks made for good business. It was the same when planning a party: treat the guests much like valued customers, remain formal with staff and rake in the admiration. She had to be satisfied with that, since they certainly weren’t raking in coin. She was staggered by the amount of money these functions cost.
“I’m amazed that you’re spending so much on entertainment,” she admitted to Tessla. “How does the family keep from going bankrupt?”
Tessla looked surprised then laughed. “Have you no idea of your husband’s income? What has he given you for allowance?”
Xera told her, and then added, “He’s been generous, and there’s no way I can spend it all. I like to go out and shop now and then, but I just can’t see throwing money away on frivolous stuff all the time. Value for dollars and all that. It’s a business class thing,” she finished wryly.
Tessla studied her thoughtfully. “This is not such a bad thing. It requires no apology.
“Regarding the entertainments…my daughter, you’ve married into a wealthy house. These gatherings cost no more for us to give than if you’d invited one or two friends to share your own dinner—perhaps even less. Once you have become familiar with the process, it takes only a couple of hours to plan. Staff handles the rest, though of course you must oversee their work, for any flaws in the engagements will be attributed to you. From conception to the moment you farewell the last guest, all eyes are on you.”
Xera nodded. That, too, was just like running an inn. If the staff made a mistake, management took the heat.
“As for your concern about money, I think it will be well for your husband to sit with you and discuss his finances and business affairs, since you are competent with such things. Many women are not and could care less where the money comes from, as long as there is plenty of it. Be assured that Ryven has an astute financial mind and will not impoverish his house hold.
“As for your allowance, I suggest you learn to enjoy it. If you don’t wish to spend it all on yourself, then use a portion to support charitable endeavors. I favor those that train the poor in profitable skills, but there are many to choose from.” Lady Tessla smiled and squeezed Xera’s hand. “Yours is a new life, but it can be rich and full. That is what I want for you.” She patted Xera’s hand and leaned back. “Besides, it will benefit Ryven if you are happy, and I do like my family taken care of.”
Xera laughed, touched by Tessla’s concern. “I’ve noticed.” She was silent for a moment as she considered whether she’d enjoy the role Tessla offered. At length she decided to give it a fair trial. While it wasn’t the life she’d thought she’d lead when she’d left home to start her career with the GE, it had its challenges. If she tried it and didn’t like it, she could always find something more interesting to do. Besides, the things she’d learn in this role were bound to help when she put on her ambassador hat…when there were actually humans to represent, that was.
She frowned. There had been no pin beams from the GE or IC for her. Had Ryven known how little she’d be called on to do her job? She remembered his comment about her moving into an “advisory position” and wondered. At the time she’d had other things on her mind and thought he’d meant one day in the future, but perhaps she’d misunderstood. Had he known all along, even from the beginning, how little she’d be called on to perform her duties? But that made no sense. Why would he have wanted the position for her, if that were the case? They were going to have to talk about it very soon, but it would have to wait until he got home. This was not the sort of conversation she wanted to have over e-mail.
She was dreaming of autumn. Leaves fell all around. Bright and beautiful shades of bronze and gold, they evaded her fingers and fluttered to the ground, forming a soft carpet under the trees. Xera spun with delight and fell into a pile. The leaves felt as soft as thistledown.
She was not alone. The sun blinded her to the man above, but she knew his voice. Ryven had come home. His lips caressed her neck and praised her softly scented skin. His fingers slid into her hair, enjoying the silk of it. His body settled over hers.…
She awoke with a start, and froze. There was a man in bed with her. “Ryven?” she whispered, spooked.
He laughed, his breath a soft puff against her mouth. “Did you think they would let anyone else in?”
She pushed him back so she could breathe. She sat up. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and stroked her back. “I meant to surprise you.”
“You did. I’m not used to men crawling into my bed at all hours.”
His voice held a smile. “Saints be praised for that.” He reached over and turned on the bedside light. “Is that better?”
She let out a sigh, surprised at how tense she was. “Yes, thanks.” The reality of his presence hit her. “You’re really home!”
He smiled. “Yes.”
She laughed. “Well, then…” She tackled him. He went down easily, a willing victim, and laughed at his surrender.
Ryven glanced ruefully over his shoulder the next morning as he was getting dressed. His first attempt at rising hadn’t been successful; they’d ended up back in bed before he’d had his shirt fastened. Not that he minded; his wife had a delightful way of making a man feel welcome. They had business to attend this morning, however.
As soon as Xera was up and dressed, he led her into the next room to eat breakfast. After she had caught him up on the family doings, he gave her an overview of their finances. And his aunt had been right—he should have done so sooner. Xera seemed amazed and reassured by what she learned. He hadn’t realized what a source of concern it had been for her until he saw her shoulders relax. He
was also pleasantly surprised by her astute questions. Her intelligence was pleasing…but he was not as thrilled when she mentioned running a business again.
“Why would you want that? We don’t lack for money, and my aunt has ensured you have plenty to do.”
She studied him. “Arranging a couple of parties a month is hardly a drain on my time. I’m used to doing a lot of work, Ryven. I’ve got a lot of energy.”
He scowled. “Tell that to my sisters. For years they’ve complained that the burden would crush them.”
Xera shrugged. “They just don’t have the knack, is all. It’s not that different from running an inn. You just have a different customer base.”
He stared at her. “You’ve forgotten what will happen when we have children. Raising them properly is very time consuming. I won’t have them brought up by servants.”
She considered that. “They could always go into the family business when they’re old enough. I was helping in the kitchen when I was five. It builds work ethic.”
Those brimstone eyes of his heated ominously. “I won’t have my child working like a servant.”
“Not like a servant—like a member of the family.”
He took a breath, calming himself. “I understand your point of view on this. I know you were raised to see things differently. I also know we are not relocating to apartments above a business so that you can spend your waking hours directing it.” He watched her blink, saw the frown start between her eyes. “As interested as I am in your happiness, you will have to find another way to pursue your interests. I am not an innkeeper. I command a starship and am a noble. My father is the lord governor of Rsik.” And that was that.
Xera pursed her lips and willed herself not to comment on her husband’s haughtiness. It was an integral part of him, and unlikely to be cured in a morning, if ever. Besides, he was unwittingly playing into the real argument she had coming. It would be interesting to see how he acted when she brought up the ambassador thing. She could be devious when necessary. She took a breath herself. “Okay. No lowbrow establishment for you. Do you have a more genteel option in mind?”