One Thousand Nights (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6)
Page 27
But I did not want to think of that. Tragic for the families and loved ones left behind — yes, even of those who had been lured to Amael’s side by promises of riches and easy advancement. In time, though, the kingdom would heal, and the entire affair would be only a footnote to history.
As we walked, I noticed that the guards were guiding us toward Besh’s apartments, and my heart began to beat a little faster. We had not spoken of that delayed “wedding night” — at least not formally — but our unspoken agreement had been that we would be together after I knew that Therissa was truly out of danger. Her bedside wedding to Malik Sel-Trelazar seemed to confirm that she would be with us for a good long time to come. There was no reason to delay any further.
One of the guards opened the door for us, and Besh hesitated, inquiring, “Will you dine with me here tonight, my lady?”
We had shared some light refreshments at the Sel-Trelazar home, but I knew that was not precisely what my husband was asking of me. By following him inside, I had agreed to be with him wholly, completely. I knew there could be only one answer to his question.
“It would be my greatest pleasure, my lord.”
A brilliant smile illumined his face, and he took me by the hand and led me inside, shutting the guards and the rest of the world out as he closed the door behind us. Almost at once he drew me to him, bringing his mouth down to mine so he might taste my lips. I tasted him as well, heat building within me, an urgent, needy fire that must be quenched.
“Come,” he said simply. We walked past his library, and past the large room he used sometimes to meet with his advisors and generals, and past sitting rooms and parlors. At last we came to the great staircase, but he did not hesitate there, instead guiding me up to the second story. In the open area on the landing had been set out light refreshments — grapes and cheese, and thin slices of cured meats and fine little pastries sweet with honey and almonds. Next to the trays sat a decanter of wine, deep, deep red. He poured a glass for me, and I came and took it from him, then waited while he poured himself some of his own.
“To the wisest and most beautiful Hiereine this land has ever seen,” he said, lifting his glass toward me.
I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks, but I raised my glass and replied, “To the bravest and handsomest Hierarch this land has ever seen.”
He laughed then, and drank, and I followed suit, letting the sweet, rich wine linger on my tongue and then slip down my throat, bringing with it a subtler warmth to echo the one that already lay coiled in my belly and seemed to throb along every vein.
“I am sorry it took so long for us to come to this,” he added, voice quiet, although something in me thrilled at the intensity in it.
“Then that will make us appreciate it all the more,” I told him, swallowing more of my wine before setting the glass down on the table next to the decanter. Yes, the wine was all very well, but I had had enough of waiting.
Besh seemed to sense my mood, for he placed his glass next to mine, then came to me, lifting me in his strong arms. I clung to him, and we moved into his bedchamber, almost twice the size of mine, with an equally enormous bed, all hung with red silk. Seeing that bed made it all the more real, and I stared up at him as he deposited me upon it, my mouth dry.
Perhaps he noted my sudden anxiety, for he asked, “Are you ready — truly ready, my love?”
All hesitation fell away as I gazed up at him, at the sculpted planes of his face, at those amber eyes, glowing with love…and need. “I am ready, Besh. Please…make me your wife.”
He needed no more encouragement than that, for at once he was lying next to me, mouth on mine, hands running over my body, awakening sensations I had never before experienced. In that moment, he was the world, the endless night sky, the entire universe. And I took him into me, our bodies joining in perfect joyful conjunction, and I knew I would never feel alone again.
* * *
Some hours later, after we had wandered out to sate our appetites with the delicacies the servants had left behind, Besh turned to me, eyes holding that certain glint I had come to recognize.
“My lord, as much as I have enjoyed this evening, I do not think I am quite ready to do that again.”
He laughed then, and picked up his goblet and drained it with one large swallow. “My lady wife, I would not think to impugn your…stamina. However, that is not precisely what I had in mind.”
I did not care for any more wine, and instead sipped at some of the lemon-flavored water that had been provided along with the headier drink. “So what do you have in mind?”
“Let us get dressed.”
Puzzled, I followed him back into the bedchamber, discarded the dressing gown he had loaned me, and climbed back into the costume of blue and gold I had worn earlier in the day. My hair was beyond repair, so I pulled it into a hasty plait and reassured myself that there would be no one around, save a few guards, to see my disheveled state.
While I was dressing, Besh did the same. When we were both ready, he extended a hand to me and I took it, reveling in the rush of warmth that went over me at the touch of his fingers against mine. We had done far more intimate things during the last few hours, and yet I was happy beyond measure that something as simple as holding hands could send such a thrill through me.
“Come along,” he said.
We went downstairs and out through the front doors to his apartments. Immediately the guards fell in behind us, but Besh seemed to pay them no mind, so I did the same. From his suite, he moved through half-lit corridors, twisting and turning until we emerged in the moonlit gardens, the air still warm, but in a soft, gentle way, like a lover’s caress against one’s cheek. Then I knew where we were bound, for he chose the path that led to the observatory, taking me past fountains sparkling in the moonlight and flowers whose fragrance seemed twice as sweet as during the daytime.
At last we came to the observatory doors. Two guards hastened forward to open them for us, but by some unspoken signal they remained outside while we entered. Inside, all was blind dark, and I almost bumped into Besh when he stopped a few paces from the door.
“Do you want me to light one of the lamps?” he asked.
“It depends,” I replied. “Are we here merely for privacy, or to watch the stars?”
Although it was utterly black in there, I thought I saw a glimmer of his teeth as he smiled. “The latter. There is something I wish to show you.”
“Then do not bother with the lamp. I trust you to guide me.”
I felt his mouth press against my fingers, and then we were moving forward again, going to where I knew the telescope stood. Sure enough, my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and I could see the cylindrical bulk of it pointed up toward the opening in the observatory’s domed roof.
“I set it up earlier today,” Besh said. “All you must do is look through the eyepiece.”
Moving with care so I would not bump the instrument, I took up my position as he instructed, then gazed upward. There, encircled in brass and swimming in darkness, I saw a bright, flaring light almost pearlescent in its radiance. It seemed to pulse with its own rhythm, almost as if it were alive.
“What is it?” I breathed.
“That, my love, is a star being born. It was not there two nights ago, but suddenly blazed forth in the night sky. I thought it a good omen.”
“It is the very best of omens,” I said, turning away from the gleaming newborn star so I might face my husband.
He clasped his fingers around mine, pulling me close, and I felt his lips touch the top of my head, gentle, warm. “You are a very great gift, my lady wife. I never thought I would be allowed such happiness, but God has seen fit to grant it to me.”
Had I ever felt so safe, so loved? I thought not. Some part of me wanted to weep for joy, but I fought back the tears, instead saying, “After all the sorrow you have suffered, you deserve happiness, my love.”
He kissed me then, kissed me with all his strength and his
passion and his brilliance. How long we stood thus, I do not know, but at last he released me and said, “Here in Keshiaar we have a saying: ‘I will love you for a thousand nights and one more.’ I will love you, Lyarris, for those thousand nights, and the thousand after that, and so on, until the very end of time.”
Truly, in that moment I had no words, no way I could reply, except to kiss him again, and again, and so let him know that I would be his, and he mine, forevermore.
The End
* * *
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About the Author
Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her work includes paranormal romance, and fantasy and science fiction/space opera romance. She now works as a freelance editor and graphic designer in addition to writing fiction. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Trilogy and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!
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