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When We Were Dancing (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 2)

Page 34

by Auryn Hadley


  "For me?" He laughed. "That's not how this game works."

  "It is now. I get five minutes with you, and your owner gets the tax free years. Otherwise, you'll be a free man like all the rest."

  His head tilted to the side, and those dark eyes watched her. "And what do I get?"

  "To be a gladiator."

  He laughed and flicked a hand toward Tore. "Fine. He'd be a fool not to take it. Leave us alone."

  When the owner and the men moved without complaint, Leyli smiled. The door was barely closed before she leaned closer, resting her arms over her knees. "What do I need to know to help you?"

  "Not the question I expected." He turned, propping his arm on the back of the chair. "My name is Claudius Gaius. Your father knew my father. So long as no one can find me, a tiny little law prevents Rhia from crossing into Norihame."

  She sat up. "What law?"

  "In the treaty, Ilario demanded that if any Rhian soldiers entered Norihame without the escort of the heir, Claudius Gaius, then Norihame would be due one half of the annual Rhian treasury each year. Half of what Rhia earns becomes Norihame wealth, Wolf. It's why there's been peace for so long."

  "So why are you here?"

  He leaned over and patted her knee. "Because the Senators will force the Caesar to pay it. Because if I can't lead soldiers, then maybe my country will learn to stop fighting." He placed his large hand over hers. "Because if some bastard can figure out how to kill me, there's a good chance that less Rhians will die."

  "You're doing it the hard way." She dropped her other hand over his, pinning it between hers. "We can find another solution."

  "I'm happy with this one."

  She nodded, accepting that. Everyone had their reasons for what they did, and who was she to tell him he was wrong. "If you ever change your mind, I have a rudis for you."

  "Thank you, Leyli. You're going to be a good Queen. If you figure out how to make peace with Rhia, I might change my mind. Until then? This is the life the gods gave me. How are you settling with Theodian?"

  She patted his hands one last time and stood. "I'm giving him a new job. Tell your puppet master that Theodian will no longer be in the business."

  "Tore's a good man." He smiled, but did not try to tell her she was wrong. "Now I get an answer."

  "Fine."

  "What happens to Norihame when your husband realizes your children are not his?"

  She leaned close to his ear. "He already knows. My Prince is the one that figured out how to change the gladiator laws without crippling our economy. It's how we spent our wedding night. He knows who shares my bed, and it's not him."

  "You, Majesty, are going to make Rhia scared." Death laughed, but ducked his head in respect. "May we never cross swords, Wolf. If you don't kill me, I think your Lion just might. Long live the Gladiator Queen."

  "Long live the true Emperor of Rhia." She turned and left without a backwards glance. In her wake, Death kept laughing to himself.

  Tristan met her in the hall, a brow lifted at the smile on her face. Leyli shook her head and kept walking. First, she found Theodian. He sat in a huddle of men, all of them free, yet with no where else to go. At her approach, he made to stand, but she waved them all back down, moving to take a place beside them. Her dress was already ruined, so appearances didn't exactly matter.

  "So." She looked over at him. "My first decree was to strip the Sarisona family of their titles. As of right now, they are simple commoners living in a very nice house, waiting to be evicted."

  "That's going to be fun." Theodian leaned back, waiting to know why she was telling him this.

  Leyli mimicked his pose. "The new Lord may have a fight on his hands. I'm not convinced they will leave willingly. I'm thinking that his personal guards - which is typically about one hundred men, for most nobles of that rank - would need to be highly skilled."

  "And you think the new Domn of Lanmont would be interested in hiring my men?"

  The grin split Leyli's face and she cocked her head at him. "I don't know, My Lord. Do you think your men would be willing to stick by the new Domn of Lanmont?"

  The gladiators began to chuckle. A few reached over and slapped his arm and back, but Theodian stared at her in shock. "I was a fighter, Leyli. I don't know anything about nobility!"

  "Or business. Yes, we already figured that out. I'm sure you can find someone to help you. If not, I'd be happy to offer a few names."

  "Why me?"

  She shrugged. "Nobility should be noble. I think you're exactly that. You took care of me. You tried to do right by me, even though it meant you would lose a lot of money. Your first thought has always been for your fighters. You're the only man I can think of with the skills, the connections, and the bravado to step into this position at this time." She paused. "I need you, Theodian. I need Lords who will help make Norihame better."

  Slowly, he nodded. "Then I'll do my best, Leyli. Can't say I mind the idea of being a Lord." He grinned and looked at the men before him. "I'll keep you fed till I can get the money to pay you, if you'll still have me?"

  "Hell yeah," Plague said. "Guess this means I need to fight Crush to see which of us will be Captain of the guard."

  Tristan stepped closer. "Maybe." Leaning through the group, he offered a slip of paper to Crush. "Depends on what he thinks of that."

  He peered at the note for a moment, his brow furrowed, then shook his head. "I can't make it out."

  Tristan's shoulders slumped, but Leyli giggled. "Turn it over? See if that helps?"

  His eyes lit up. "That script I can read." Then he froze, his eyes looking up to Leyli. "Really?"

  "What's it say?" Plague asked.

  Crush took a deep breath, then pushed his eyes back down to the paper. "It says that The Royal Guard is required to be literate. Able to both read and write. So long as I meet this last requirement, the Secor and his charge would be pleased to offer a position in the Queen's guard." He looked up. "Not the Royal Guard?"

  "No," Leyli said. "I gave up my shadow so he could become the Prince's Captain. My second shadow was wounded, protecting me." She curled her arms around her knees. "The Lion can't always be by my side, and I'd like you to fill the spot until Gregori is deemed well enough to resume his duties."

  "And then?"

  "Then you'll guard me when they can't. I want you as a permanent member of the Queen's guard, Crush. I think that you're one of the few people I can trust to keep all of my secrets."

  "I have to get my wife." He laughed, breathlessly. "She won't believe this. Really? You want me to be a Queen's guard?"

  "Please? I can't take Plague because Theodian needs him too much."

  He shifted over, closing the distance between them, then hugged her shoulders against his side. "I'd be honored. I'll even teach that lanky fuck how to fight dirty."

  She patted his back, then pulled her feet beneath her. "Good. I'll have the guys settle everything and find you tomorrow. I'm sorry, but the palace just doesn't have room for everyone tonight."

  "We're fine," Theodian assured her.

  She made to stand, and four men moved to assist her. With a chuckle, Crush stepped back. Theodian just smiled, but Plague patted Tristan's arm. "Sorry. Your partner."

  Leyli closed her eyes and took Tristan's hand, letting him lift her from the ground. "I can still stand up."

  "I know, Ley. Makes me feel better, though. You had a hard day."

  Plague chuckled. "He's not going to get any better, either. Just wait until he gets you pregnant!"

  Leyli groaned. "Gladiators."

  Plague bowed before her flamboyantly. "That we are, Wolf. We also know what happens on the sands isn't anyone's business but ours."

  She flapped her hand at him, refusing to admit what they all knew was true. Truth be told, she was touched that they cared. She also secretly liked that none of them doubted her relationship with Tristan.

  Her Secor let her walk beside him back to the carriage, but he lifted her gently inside. As soon
as she was sitting, Leyli realized how tired she was. All she wanted was to have a bath and fall asleep. Her brilliant celebration had turned into insanity, but somehow it worked out. Palino was gone. Her father was safe and insisted that he was happy. Gregori's wound was severe, but he'd live through it with a scar all too similar to her own.

  She didn't mean to, but somewhere in the middle of town, Leyli blinked and her eyes forgot to open again. It was a gentle rocking that made her stir. Just like when she was a child, her head rested on a broad shoulder and the arm behind her back held her close. The strange thing was that he wasn't taking her to her room. This was the hall to the small reception. With a gasp, Leyli sat up.

  "Easy," Tristan said. "Just a couple more things, then you can pass out. How do you feel, pup?"

  "I can't believe I fell asleep."

  He chuckled, kicking open the door. "Not what I asked."

  Seeing her guard and Connall in the room, she sighed and dropped her head back against Tristan's shoulder. "I'm exhausted."

  "Give her the chair," Connall said, jumping up.

  "I'm fine," Leyli insisted, but Tristan ignored her, setting her where her husband had been only moments before. She grumbled, but it turned into a yawn. "Ok, what else?"

  Temotio moved to stand beside Connall. "Could he read it?"

  "Perfectly," Leyli assured him. "So, yes, we have a new guardsman. Need to get him and his wife moved in."

  From the side of the room, Gregori sighed in relief. "I'm so sorry, Leyli. I don't know how you did it. Feels like I can't breathe."

  She giggled at him. "That's because you're spoiled. When your only other option is to die?"

  "Thanks, I'll pass. Now, if you want to find some cute little thing to take care of me?" He laughed, then winced.

  Temotio rushed to his side. "You ok?"

  Gregori groaned. "Not the cute I meant. Fuck, this hurts."

  "Need a pillow?"

  Leyli pressed her hand over her mouth, watching the two of them. When Gregori consented, Temotio helped pad the back of the chair behind him, careful not to injure the wound. As he pulled away, Gregori caught his hand.

  "I was a dick. Treated you like shit, and you're still here taking care of me. I owe you."

  "Yeah, you do." Temotio smiled. "Means you're buying the beer."

  "Promise. Now we just have to make sure the new guy keeps his mouth shut. He says anything to you, Temotio, I'll break his face. Don't care if he used to be a gladiator."

  "Speaking of gladiators," Connall said, making the room fall quiet. "As the almost Prince Consort, not quite yet officially crowned, I gain a few little luxuries." He reached to the desk in front of Leyli and grabbed a stack of papers. "This isn't official, yet, since it needs the Queen's seal as well, but I have a feeling she'll approve it."

  He tossed it down before Tristan. The papers slipped, displaying seals and decorative letters on each page. Whatever it was, this wasn't the simple deeds or disputes that Connall normally involved himself in. Leyli sat up to lean closer. As Tristan flipped through, trying to make sense of the flowery language, she saw something that she recognized. There, on the bottom corner of the second page was an Aravatti style lion. The top of the page listed it as an official seal of nobility. She sucked in a breath, making Tristan look up.

  "How?" she asked.

  Connall grinned and pulled out the page Tristan needed to see. "I found this when researching the fights with Rhia. It seems that long ago, the Secor was a traditional position. It passed from master to student, basically. All too often, the nobility in court found it difficult to accept a common soldier as their better, so Queen Leandra formed the House of Oberhame."

  "What does that mean?" Tristan asked, staring at the page.

  "Unlike most inherited titles, the Lord of Oberhame is an earned position. The title grants no lands, but requires that the heir meet certain requirements. Most commonly, Lord Oberhame also holds the title of Secor. His heir, also a Lord, is considered his adopted son - or daughter. His wife is granted the title of Lady, and welcome in court as if she were born to nobility." Connall palmed the back of Tristan's neck, forcing him to look up. "I'm sorry, Tristan. If I'd found this sooner..."

  "And yet, you still looked." Tristan shrugged. "I'm no Prince, Connall. I can't rule the country. My job is to keep Leyli safe. Yours is to keep Norihame running and to protect the people."

  "But your wife?" Connall gestured at Leyli. "You deserve to call her that."

  "It's just a word. I know one that means a lot more to me." He stood, leaving the papers on the table before him, and wrapped his arms around the Prince. "Friend. It's like the family I wanted to have. I'll share my kids with you."

  "And the rest of the country," Armando joked. "Tristan's right. Without Connall, there's no way Leyli could have changed the laws for the gladiators. Never mind you telling Ilario about the rule of war."

  Leyli's head snapped around. "What?"

  "Yeah," Edwyn said. "It was Connall who figured out how to make his execution legal. None of us remembered it. Then, if Ilario stepped down, there's nothing the Sarisona family can do. They can't strip his crown if he's already given it away."

  "But what happens to Dad, now?"

  Connall shrugged. "He's Lord Aravatti. He gets to sleep in and let you do all his work. He'll probably live longer because of it. The stress of being a king is known to take its toll on a man."

  She looked around the room. "And that's it? We all live happily ever after?"

  Gregori groaned. "I fucking hope so. I think we've earned it. Except for all the stupid noble crap you do, yeah."

  "Yeah," Connall said. "We're also down here because Ilario had the rooms moved. We're taking over the King and Queen's suite, my dear wife."

  "Really?"

  He nodded, smiling deviously. "Why yes. Seems that the Secor's rooms will be adjoining yours, my Captain's will attach to mine, and our staff will be placed across the hall with our guards."

  She sighed and leaned deeper into the chair. "Good, because I want a bath and a long night of sleep."

  "You deserve it," Connall told her. "Tristan, can you help her up the stairs?"

  "For once," Leyli told them both, "I'm not even going to complain. I can't believe I'm this exhausted."

  Tristan scooped her into his arms. "I can."

  Dropping her head against his shoulder, she murmured in agreement. "Trying to say I've been spoiled in the palace?"

  "Yes, but only because we do our jobs very well."

  Connall rushed to open the door, making sure that at least one person saw him let the Lion out before he returned to the room. Leyli giggled. "So who is going to carry Gregori to his room?"

  "Temotio. He's the one that carried him in from the arena."

  "Good." She yawned.

  He chuckled. "Figured out why you're so tired, yet, pup?"

  "Unh uh."

  He shifted her closer. "Then maybe I should teach you to count better. Astrid says the maids have been commenting on your very clean sheets."

  "And?" She could barely keep her eyes open.

  "And they should have been stained with blood last week." Reaching their door, he set her down, then gently pushed her inside. "Ley, your courses are late."

  Suddenly, she was very awake. Sucking in a breath, she turned to him, replaying the last few weeks in her mind, struggling to separate one from another. Shocked, she ran the days through one more time, coming up with the same thing. Thirty-six days. She was more than a week late.

  "Tristan?" Her voice shook as she realized what that meant.

  He nodded slowly, smiling down at her. "Yeah, Ley. I'm gonna be a father. You are going to look so gorgeous pregnant with my child."

  The air fell from her lungs, and she took the two steps to the closest chair before dropping into it. "I'm pregnant."

  "Happens when you roll in bed with your man every night."

  Gently, she touched her stomach, unable to tell any difference. "I'm final
ly pregnant?"

  "Pretty sure, pup." He knelt before her, clasping her hand between his. "You ok? Is this still what you want?"

  A smile lit up her face, and she nodded. "Tristan, we're going to have an heir."

  "Yeah." He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. "And tomorrow we can tell Connall. He's going to be so excited."

  "But tonight," she said, reaching up for the back of his neck, "I'm all yours."

  "Just tonight?"

  "No," she promised. "Forever, Tristan. The Lion and the Wolf."

  Without warning, he scooped her up, heading to her bed room. "Yeah, right after I show you who is the king in this family, bitch."

  When he dumped her onto the mattress, Leyli was laughing. Maybe everything was going to end up ok after all.

  Epilogue

  Plague trotted down the stairs, shifting his new uniform to sit better on his shoulders. He still couldn't think of himself as Maxen. Oh sure, Leyli had given him a toy sword that made him free, but it wasn't the same. Most of the guard still called him Plague. Then again, most of them had been gladiators. Some he'd trained, others he'd fought with. The ones he'd fought against were all dead and gone.

  That's why he almost missed the man calling for him. "Maxen Tenacus? Sir? Captain of the Lanmont guard?"

  The last got his attention. "Yeah?"

  Whoever this jackass was, he didn't seem impressed with Plague's common way of speaking. The man lifted a brow and crossed his arms. Plague huffed, amused that some inbred noble idiot thought he'd care.

  "What d'ya want?"

  "My name is Terenzio. I'm the heir to the Boieret of Abindon." He cocked his head to the side, waiting for something.

  Plague just shrugged. "Yep. Nice to meet you, or something. Look, I have men to train, so if you don't mind?" He moved to walk past the pompous prick.

  Terenzio caught his arm, halting him. "Right. You're one of the gladiators?"

  "Was. Plague, now Captain of the Domn's guard." The man before him smiled slightly, making Plague even more annoyed. "What the hell do you want?"

  "My little brother said if I ever needed anything from Lanmont, to talk to you." Then he held out a piece of paper. "Just tell me you can read?"

 

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