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Win Page 34

by Vera Nazarian


  “Like this nail,” Krui adds.

  “Oh! Eeeow!” Gracie and Laronda both wince and turn away, while I continue watching with a frown, mesmerized.

  “And that’s today’s class,” Gavreel tells me with a formal inclination of his head, then gets up. “It was a pleasure, my Imperial Lady.”

  Krui gets up also, and sweeps up the handful of nails from the table and puts them in his pockets.

  Gordie offers him the nail back, as he licks the small wound in his palm.

  “No, you keep it,” Krui says with a slow smile and suddenly turns to me. I notice he is holding out another nail, exactly like the one in Gordie’s hand. “Almost forgot, My Imperial Lady. We can’t go until you do this little trick yourself.”

  “Ugh, do I have to?” But I take the nail from him. “All right, damn it . . . show me.”

  And that’s how, five minutes later, I, Gwen Lark, end up with a long, scary-looking metal nail or spike thing stuck in the center of my own saliva-cleansed palm. So unhygienic!

  I admit, the piercing was awful. And it hurt like hell, going in—even after they explained how to do it and showed me with surgical precision how to avoid the most vital areas in my hand. In short, you do not want to attempt this thing on your own unless you have been properly instructed, and even then it’s iffy, and yes, you still can cause major irreparable harm to your body—seriously, just don’t do it.

  As for me, the only reason I agreed to it was because the situation is life-and-death, and my survival in the Games depends on learning all these crazy things that might give me an advantage. And yeah, I trembled as I worked the sharp end into my flesh. . . . Ugh! Just, ugh!

  And now, even looking at it makes me kind of queasy. . . . It’s gone in through a weird place between meat and bone and nerves and blood vessels, a unique spot that’s supposed to be relatively harmless. And it still hurts, though somewhat less if I try not to think about it. . . .

  But as a surprising side effect, knowing that it’s there, and the reason for it being there, makes me feel brave and fearless and strangely alive.

  Suddenly, just for a split instant, I’m ready for anything.

  Chapter 28

  The two Atlantean guards and Anu, who is their ride to work, leave, after giving me precise instructions on how to carefully remove the metal spike.

  I’m to pull it out on my own, after a few minutes of practicing dramatic sleight-of-hand moves that I’m supposed to learn for a “show” during the right moment at the Games when I need to make an impression.

  “We’ll stay with you for the afternoon, Gee Two, is that okay?” Gracie says gently, sitting down next to me and trying not to look at my hand, as I hold up my pierced palm, examining the nail with horrified curiosity.

  “Oh yes, thank you!” I say, glancing from her to Laronda to Gordie.

  Laronda comes up to me from behind the sofa and starts to give me a shoulder rub. “We figure you can use some company, and Anu will return later to give us a ride back. . . . Anyway, so where’s your Mr. Princely Hot Stuff? Nice place he’s got here, by the way, what an amazing hillside view! I was dropping my jaw all the way during our drive here, staring at these huge estates, as we flew over Phoinios Heights.”

  “Aeson’s in a meeting back at the Palace,” I say, blinking with stress at the thought.

  “Yeah, I bet he’s busy.” Laronda sighs. “Now that he has you to worry about, in addition to all his other fancy-pants royal duties.”

  Oh lord, she has no idea. . . .

  I smile and mumble something in reply then change the subject. Besides, time to pull out the nail. . . . Ugh.

  While Gracie and Laronda wince and cringe yet again at my efforts, Gordie locates a TV wall panel. He sings the sequence to make it hover before the sofa, and finds the usual noisy sports channels with Pre-Games coverage. Ironic, since Gordie never watches sports—it’s plain weird, what my little brother has to endure on my behalf. Poor Gordie!

  “So are you guys still staying at the Palace?” I ask, dropping the extracted nail on the low table and watching it roll. Then I apply pressure to my open wound.

  “Yup,” Gordie says, with his face turned to the screen, where he’s busy scanning channels for useful entrant-related feeds.

  “We’re allowed to stay there indefinitely for now, in the visitor apartments, all the way up to the Games. Since we’re doing stuff to help you,” Gracie adds.

  “It makes sense.” I nod. “So, where are the others? Dawn, Chiyoko, Blayne? Hasmik was here yesterday with Princess Manala—”

  “Oh, lord, yes, I’ve heard! With that huge stinky cat!” Laronda giggles. “She told us how she helped Manala drag him all the way to the car. Khemji is hilarious!”

  I laugh in response, even though inside I am numb. And then I listen as my sister and Laronda tell me all about the things my other friends are doing on my behalf.

  “Blayne is researching professional strategy trainers for you, and Chiyoko is working with him and Gennio to go through years of past Games footage and choose the best and most relevant bits. Dawn and Hasmik have gone into the city to meet up with some kind of Atlantean equivalent of a lawyer. Supposedly this lawyer can help with understanding your civil rights as the Bride and Imperial Consort. . . .”

  I listen and try to focus, as my friend and sister talk, and my brother makes occasional mumbling comments about the TV feeds.

  After a few minutes, I cease being able to listen properly, and instead this strange sensation overcomes me—a realization that all these people are gathered around me, all of them trying to help me in any way each one of them can, and they are doing this because they love me.

  A familiar stinging lump starts to rise in the back of my throat, and I hold my breath so as not to give in to the pressure of tears. . . .

  Fortunately, I am saved from making a bawling fool of myself by the arrival of Aeson.

  He opens the door quietly, and my heart skips a beat at the sight of him. At once I notice he is exhausted, bone-deep, even though his face is a controlled mask of composure. He is wearing a slightly more formal Atlantean outfit befitting a Palace event, a dark blue jacket embroidered with fine threads of gold over a cream silk shirt and black pants. His silky metallic hair is neatly brushed back to fall loosely over his shoulders.

  “Aeson!” I exclaim softly—since my voice is about to crack with emotion—giving him a tentative smile.

  “Nefero dea,” he says quietly to everyone present, but his intimate gaze is only for me. Such a combination of vulnerability and intensity is there, that it breaks my heart. It’s as if he’s been storing up overnight all the guilt and pain of having burdened me with the knowledge—the terrible side effect of the new level of intimacy we’ve shared last night—and he’s afraid to face me today. That, plus whatever else he had to deal with this morning that drained him so deeply. . . .

  Alien threat . . . darkness, despair.

  No, stop it.

  Everyone gets up to salute and bow to the Imperial Crown Prince. I simply reach out for him wordlessly, and he crosses the room and takes my hands in his.

  “Ouch!” I say as he happens to press the wounded aching spot in my hand. So then I immediately have to explain the palm piercing trick and the two ex-con guards, in a hasty babble accompanied with an awkward laugh.

  He listens, his gaze full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  I can read the true scope of his question. Are you okay, after everything last night? He seems to be asking.

  “Oh yes, of course! And don’t worry, this piercing doesn’t really hurt anymore. Never mind it—how was your morning business?”

  “The meeting was as expected, went on for far too long as usual, and now I’m starved,” he says negligently, changing the subject with diplomatic skill.

  “On that note, we should probably be getting back,” Gracie says with amazing tact. “We’ll let you both eat in peace, and we still have much to do for today. So okay, let’s go, Gee Th
ree, Laronda—”

  “You’re welcome to stay for dea meal, always,” Aeson says to my sister with a smile.

  “Oh, no, no, thank you My Imperial Lord, but we must head out—right, Gee Three? Right? Gordie!”

  “Huh? Oh yeah,” Gordie responds with a start. He’s been giving his attention exclusively to the Games Trials coverage and spaced out in his usual highly focused way.

  “That’s right,” Laronda says. “So where’s troll boy? He should be here by now—we need a ride back to the Palace.”

  Aeson glances at me and raises one brow in amusement. “Troll boy?”

  “She means Anu,” I reply, pressing my lips tight.

  “Oh.” Aeson shakes his head, with a faint smile. “Not a problem. Anu might be engaged elsewhere for a while, so I’ll have another one of my staff take you back.”

  And immediately he taps his wrist comm device and makes the arrangement for a hover car and driver, one of his own estate employees.

  “Wow, thank you,” Gracie says awkwardly, and Laronda echoes her. Gordie just nods and sends the levitating TV panel back to its spot on the wall.

  A few minutes later they all head out, having endured my spontaneous and overly emotional hugs—yes, I’m too disgustingly sappy with general gratitude for my family and friends right now, and I don’t care—leaving me and Aeson to enjoy our privacy.

  As soon as we’re alone, Aeson turns to me silently and takes me in his arms. His initial touch is gentle and tentative, as though he’s afraid that my immediate response would be some kind of hesitation, distance, or even a rejection of him. . . . Poor Aeson!

  But I cling to him with all my strength. I’m in such an emotional hair-trigger state, that it comes easy. Hugging him tight, my hands rub his lower back and then sweep up along his spine to caress his shoulders and arms. My fingers and palms run over the velvety fabric of his jacket, feeling his muscular body underneath, and I feel him tremble like a fine thoroughbred and then relax into my touch. Meanwhile his own embrace around me deepens.

  “Oh, Gwen . . .” he whispers into the top of my head.

  “I’m so glad you’re back . . . I’ve missed you so much!” I say, as he lets go of me at last, just enough so that I can look up into his eyes.

  “You don’t hate me?” he says softly, looking down into my eyes with his lapis lazuli blue ones.

  “What?” I frown then tug the closest lock of his golden hair with fierce affection.

  “After all the things I’ve told you last night—”

  “No, I love you more, Aeson, so stop it! I love you so much, do you understand?” My words tumble forth in a torrent of frustration. “All the things I know now, all of those awful things only showed me how much you’ve endured in secret, and my heart breaks for you, and now at least I can share some of it with you—and you don’t have to bear it alone, never again—and—”

  In answer he sighs in relief, and kisses the top of my head, like a child.

  I sigh also, and then take his hand and pull him after me toward the sofa. We sit down next to each other, and just look, without touching, at first.

  “In a minute I’m going to ask you how your horrid IEC meeting was, and you will have to tell me every depressing thing that happened, in every excruciating detail. . . . But first, we’re going to just breathe and not think about it, okay?” I say in a firm voice, taking command of the moment.

  “Okay.” He looks at me with impossible love. “Thank you.”

  “Good. Now . . . start kissing me!”

  His eyes widen in surprise.

  I admit, I’ve just surprised myself. . . . Such bossy forwardness, out of the blue, is so unlike me, who’s usually an insecure dork, awkward and still mostly inexperienced when it comes to intimacy. And yet. . . . What’s come over me?

  I place my hands on his chest, and run my fingers in circular strokes over the front of his jacket, parting the velvet fabric. Then I move my palms against his fine silken shirt and feel the warm solidity of his body underneath, so that again he starts to tremble at my touch.

  “Ah . . . Gwen!”

  “Kiss me. . . . But, slowly! Very slowly . . . my sweet Prince. . . . I don’t want you to ‘keep away from me’ as you’ve threatened last night. Instead I want you so very near me, but completely under control. . . . And that takes practice.”

  His breath shudders, and he starts to move toward me, inching closer, while my hands remain at his chest, keeping him slightly away, as a subtle reminder.

  Strangely obedient, mesmerized by my words, a fine smile comes to his lips as he takes hold of my shoulders, steady but gentle.

  “Breathe, Aeson,” I whisper.

  I can hear his controlled breath. And I can now feel it flutter against the skin of my face, as his lips draw closer.

  And then Aeson kisses me—and it’s delicate as a butterfly. Soft gentle touch, his mouth brushes mine lightly . . . and pulls away . . . causing a tremendous pang of sensual awareness to move through me.

  He pauses to look at me, and his eyes are so very dark. “Like this?”

  “Yes . . .” I whisper. “Again. . . .”

  And his lips touch mine again.

  Oh dear lord, but his touch sears me! This faintest contact acts as sunlight upon skin, and I feel its sensual echo traveling down my nerve endings in a million lines of energy.

  He does not need prompting now. Aeson kisses me for the third time, still with the lightest impression, which again causes a grand harmonic of sensual awareness in me.

  And then his next kiss, still faint and delicate, moves a millimeter lower. His mouth covers and captures my bottom lip, pulls it in then releases, quick and sudden, inhale and exhale, so that I shudder with yearning. . . .

  He inhales again, and his controlled breath goes ragged for a moment. And then his mouth returns, placing another delicate kiss on my upper lip, then yet another on the side of my mouth, and the opposite side. He is still amazingly controlled as he continues to give faint soft kisses like butterflies, until my mouth is alive with arousal, and all my nerve endings sing. . . .

  And suddenly I’m warm with a head-rush, melting into him, my lips parted and receptive like I’ve never been before. Somewhere in the back of my mind it occurs to me—if he were to take this further, to lose control after all and press onward this very instant, to continue with the natural progression wherever it leads, I would let it happen.

  I am ready for him.

  Good thing, in that moment as my Bridegroom continues to softly kiss me senseless, the door opens, and in comes Anu Vei.

  Anu sees us and immediately exclaims, covering his eyes, “Argh! Mother of shibet! Crap, that’s disgusting! Eeow, gross! Ugh!”

  Aeson and I both come apart quickly, as though someone dumped a bucket of cold water over us. We’re both flushed with arousal, breathing hard, and now it’s turned into a flush of embarrassment.

  “Anu, you need to knock!” Aeson exclaims, red-faced, as he glares at Anu.

  “Okay, yeah, sorry, My Imperial Lord and . . . um . . . Lady,” Anu continues, groaning, and still covering his eyes with one hand. “But seriously, ugh, gross!”

  “Next time, you will knock before you come in, is that understood?” Aeson’s tone has become commanding.

  “Yeah, yeah, okay . . .” Anu mumbles, lowering his hand from his eyes and looking at us both. Then he bows his head and his own pasty white face reddens.

  It occurs to me, Anu is more embarrassed than we are.

  “So what is it, Vei?” Aeson says, composed once more, as though nothing happened.

  Meanwhile I take a deep breath and exhale, bringing down my own elevated state.

  Anu nods sullenly with his head in my direction without actually making eye contact. “Where are her—I mean, sorry—the Imperial Lady’s sen-i-senet and that other one, the major pain-inducing Earth girl? I’m supposed to take them back to the Imperial Palace.”

  Aeson frowns. “Watch what you say.”

 
; “Sorry.”

  “And, you’re late. They already left with one of my house staff.”

  “Crap. . . .” Anu rubs his forehead, looking momentarily lost in thought. If I didn’t know better, I might think he’s disappointed. “I mean, yeah, okay, whatever. I got held up . . . was going to be back here earlier.”

  “Next time, call ahead,” Aeson tells him in a cool manner, then points at the door. “Now, feel free to stop by the staff area for dea meal, then head back to the Palace. Before you go, pick up that boxed equipment in my upstairs office to take back with you to my Palace Quarters.”

  Anu listens intently as Aeson continues giving him the instructions, frowning in concentration, and actively avoiding glancing at me. Finally, he bows and heads out the door, slamming it behind him with more force than necessary.

  As soon as Anu’s gone, I giggle nervously.

  Aeson turns back to me, and he is grinning also. “Well, that was rather unfortunate,” he says wickedly.

  “Or maybe it was fortunate,” I say. “The interruption happened just at the right time.”

  “You’re right.” Aeson shakes his head with amusement.

  “Anu is ridiculous.” I bite my lip, giggling again. And then I add, “He’s seriously out of control, don’t you think? Rude and kind of awful in the things he says! So, what’s his story? Why do you allow him to speak to you like that? I mean, he’s so aggravating with everyone, but now and then, it’s just too much, considering you’re his Prince. He seems to get away with all kinds of inappropriate behavior.”

  Aeson shakes his head again and snorts. “Anu, Anu, oh yes, he is unique. . . . Let me tell you about him, then. But, over dea meal. Or we can resume the other activity we were engaging in—”

  “Aeson!” I exclaim and punch him on the arm, while he continues to stare wickedly at me, with sensual intensity.

  We’ve both of us forgotten about the darkness for a moment, reluctant to broach the subject of the IEC meeting. And the subject of Anu seems a lighthearted continuation of this happy illusion.

 

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