Dark Court: The Summons

by Camille Oster

  "Of course." She looked down into her lap, fighting the tears that were forming. "But I am losing him every day now; he is fading. When he passed away, it was like I felt him there around me. I always listened for him to come through the door. I think the mind heals the loss after a while, even if you don't want it to. I cannot recall him so readily as I used to, the sound of his voice, the feel of his touch. These things are fleeting away and there's nothing I can do about it. Some days, I would rather have the grief back, where I screamed and raged. Healing has its own cruelty."

  "Will you marry again?"

  "I don't think so, if I can get away without. It would be a very poor substitute. I don't even know if I wish to love someone the way I did Torunn. I don't regret it for a moment, but it was all-consuming. I think my love will always belong to him."

  "I will never know loss like you have, or love."

  "It doesn't have to be that way."

  "I don't think I could ever stop playing the game. Perhaps I don't have the courage Torunn did. I didn't used to see it that way."

  "I suppose there is no chance of tenderness developing between you and Amethyst?"

  He chuckled. "I think neither of us understand the concept."

  "So will you still seek to seduce me, then, now that you have more or less told me you do nothing without a reason and you are more or less incapable of love?"

  "I have also forewarned you, haven't I? If you succumb now, it is your fault. That might actually make it more tempting, don't you think? I wonder if you are tempted by self-destruction more than anything. Amazingly, people sometimes are. From what you have told me, you have the propensity."

  She couldn't help but to laugh. "You are completely misunderstanding everything I just told you. Besides, I can promise you that I will never fall in love with you."

  "I suspect I am grateful. It sound like a dangerous proposition," he said.

  "You're making it sound like I am propositioning you."

  "Mine would be more fun."

  "Do you really think I would hand over my lands to you?"

  "No," he finally said after a while. "The more I get to know you, the more I doubt you ever would. Not unless I could make you love me like you did your husband, and I stand a poor chance of that."

  In a way the statement broke her heart, because he was basically saying she could never love him. Either he was unlovable or he didn't deserve love—probably both. Unfortunately, it was true, she would never love him, but she was also glad they had reached an understanding.

  "Do you want to go back inside?" he asked.

  "Not really."

  Chapter 18:

  * * *

  "Will these masks truly not come off until dawn?" Ashra asked.

  "No. Raufasger's insistence."

  "I suppose there is no point sleeping."

  "It is not a night meant for sleep."

  Silence stretched between them and it felt comfortable, which made Ashra feel uncomfortable. It was probably not a good idea to be at ease around Roisen Lorcan. There was absolutely no doubt he was a political predator, and being comfortable in his presence was a sign of danger. She hopped off the ledge they were sitting on. "I might stretch my legs."

  Silently, he followed suit. Ashra wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but he seemed to follow, and she could only be grateful. Running around alone at the moment was a risk. This night was an opportunity for debauched behavior, but that anonymity also indemnified people from worse behavior, if they wished, and that was not an assumption she wanted to test.

  Roisen had made no attempts to coerce or force her into anything, so he was still the safest companion she had—also safer than being alone. In a way, she wanted to offer for him to go back, but she would be at risk if he left. "Thank you for spending the evening with me," she said. "I appreciate the… sanctuary."

  "You know there is something about you that shows that is what you seek," he said.

  Ashra tried to think through what he was saying. "Escape might be a more accurate description."

  "You have to admit the proposition I made to you had some merit."

  She looked at him and could see a small smile gracing his lips. "Do you think you know me?" she asked.

  "I am fairly good at reading people."

  As much as she hated admitting it, his offer had its temptations, not that she wanted to admit it. "I think 'manipulating' was the word you were looking for," she teased. "That must come in handy in a place like this."

  She realized she was leading them down to the garden. It was one of the few places she knew. The only other were her apartments, where Tabain would be asleep with his nursemaid, or the Lorcan's apartments, which seemed too confrontational a suggestion to contemplate. No, she was not following Lorcan back to his lair. The garden it was.

  "You like this garden," he said.

  "Well, it is one of the few places I can find."

  "And one of the few places where you can be certain no one can overhear you."

  Not a revelation she perhaps wanted to hear, that the walls of her own apartments might not be safe against prying ears. "What does he want with us?" she asked.

  "Raufasger?"

  She nodded and Roisen exhaled. "To be adored. To keep anyone that can harm him close and under his thumb."

  "Are we supposed to exist like this forever?"

  "He can't really let us go. Our lands are our strength, and keeping us here keeps us weak."

  "Except everyone is running around plotting and scheming."

  "But the situation he's created ensures we do so against each other, not him. He can keep a good eye on us when we are all in his sight."

  They emerged in the darkness of the garden. The moonlight reflected off the long rectangular pond. It was cold, but bearable.

  Why Torunn wanted a wife away from all this was understandable now, someone who wasn't going to stab him in the back. Roisen didn't have that; had never had that. For a moment, she felt sorry for him. "So these nights are for letting off steam, for refilling the well, then?"

  "Some see it that way, I suppose."

  "But not you?"

  He didn't answer; he didn't have to as he'd already told her he used these nights to rest. How did he refill his resources?

  "Is there no one here you trust?"

  "No."

  "That is a brutal way of living."

  "You get used to it." But he had also stated he'd been confused and then curious about her and the choice Torunn had made in marrying her.

  "How could you possibly offer me sanctuary if you don't understand the concept?" she teased, walking along one side of the pond, while he did the other.

  "I suppose you have me there."

  "So you lied?"

  "Not exactly."

  She stopped and turned to him. It was hard to see expressions through the mask. "You offered me loyalty but had never known any? Or are there? Are there lovers you are loyal to?"

  He snorted. "To be honest with you, because it is a night for being honest—in deed, mostly, but we can extend it to intent, if you wish. I only take a lover to exert control. They want me and through their desire, I control them."

  "You are really not selling yourself."

  "I wasn't aware I was on the market." A half grin tugged on his mouth.

  "Not what I'm suggesting. But as you say, this is a night of honesty, and as for your seduction attempt, you are doing a very good job of ensuring I'll never fall for your tactics."

  "Honesty always has its drawbacks."

  "Then why do it?"

  He didn't answer for a while. "Because it is a night of rest."

  They stood still, staring at each other for a while. "I am sorry you live that way."

  "Don't be sorry. I am not."

  She wasn't one hundred percent sure he was being honest now. He'd revealed that curiosity he held about her, and she suspected he still did—otherwise, he wouldn't be here.

  "I don't think you would have any
idea how much I would demand of you," she said after a while. The statement surprised him; she could see it even through the mask.

  "Are we entering some kind of negotiation here?"

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. "Absolutely not. I think we can conclude we would be terrible together. I have expectations of the man in my life—heart and soul. You can't fake that. I know exactly what I want—I've had it before, and I won't compromise."

  "I think, Lady Greve, that perhaps you would be the bigger predator out of the two of us."

  "That's the thing, Lord Lorcan. It isn't predatory. It means dropping every one of your defenses and trusting someone completely and unreservedly. It's something you can't fake." He seemed to shudder at the idea and she laughed. She was actually scaring him off, which was novel. "It's heavy and demanding, and takes no prisoners."

  "A position I could never afford to put myself in."

  "It risks everything. High risk, high reward."

  "You are a gambler, I think."

  "No. Not when you are sure about the other person."

  "I am not sure what pretty words Torunn Greve whispered in your ear."

  "Not pretty words, hard words. Do you seriously have any notion you could actually seduce me?"

  He didn't say anything, instead started walking again, at a slow, leisurely pace. It seemed he was considering her words. "Probably not words I could ever form."

  It felt like they had reached a deeper understanding. They also reached the end of the pond and the water between them no longer served as a barrier—a necessary barrier for an honest conversation. And now something felt laid to rest.

  "But then tonight is the night for the impossible, for things we cannot bring ourselves to do any other time. A night where there are not consequences," he said. Ashra wasn't sure what he was saying, was confused, even as his hand snaked around her neck and firmly drew her to him, into a kiss. She hadn't seen it coming, too shocked to respond. Soft, sweet lips pressed to hers, demanding.

  Her mind was battling with the sensations rioting in her. He tasted of warmth and wine. In a sense, she had no idea what was going on, but she couldn't make herself break the kiss. It fed something, refilled a well that had run dry.

  "I can never be with you," she said breathlessly as he released her, shifting his lips down the column of her neck, finding that spot that made her senses swoon. How had he found it so easily?

  His fingers shook as he touched her. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

  "Something we should never do," he said, his mouth seeking hers again. She could only agree. They should absolutely not be doing this, but equally, she couldn't make herself stop. She needed this, needed a release for the months and months of heartache, and frustration and longing. Roisen Lorcan was the wrong man in every sense, but maybe this was a night for doing all the wrong things. And it felt so good.

  The heat of his body felt welcome. The firmness of his arms around her, the demanding kisses. Deep groans resonated in her ear, reverberating down her entire body, flaming the heat that reared harshly inside her. She didn't know whether it was him, or simply longing, that was driving her, and just now, she didn't care. The need was so strong, she couldn't fight it. It felt like a dam had burst.

  Soft grass met her back and his weight pressed down on her, feeling glorious. Her legs held him to her, his hardness pressing to her, feeling like the most natural thing in the world. Something in the back of her brain was screaming a warning, but it didn't break through the cloying desire that weighed down every breath with heady sweetness.

  Deep kisses demanded more in desperate urgency and forceful fingers cleared any garments separating them. His cock pressed at her entrance and for a moment, the alarm screamed. Soft eyes pleaded with her and he pressed inside her, her body yielding. Deliciousness swirled out from her center, claiming every part of her body, and pleasure coursed, heavy and demanding as she opened herself up to him, taking him into her.

  Their heavy breaths mingled as he stilled, buried inside her—a moment of sheer intimacy. Then he moved and tension slammed into her, clawing inside her. She needed more. A firm thrust sent wild sensations spiraling through her and her entire existence narrowed to their joining and the pleasure that demanded more.

  It refused to be controlled, or slowed, wanting more—everything. She couldn't breathe, the tension holding her lungs like a vice. Another thrust and pleasure surged over her, drawing her into the undertow. Lips sought hers as every part of her tightened, drew together painfully to then implode in exquisite surges.

  His hips, ground to hers, fused them together while the pleasure stole everything from them. A strained cry escaped him, holding him in sweet agony for a moment, before he collapsed on her, spent of every strength.

  Chapter 19:

  * * *

  Biting the end of her thumb, Ashra sat at the dining table and watched as Tabain ate his breakfast. He was bright and bubbly after a good night's sleep, but Ashra hadn't slept yet. Her mind was racing because of the developments the previous night.

  Had she, despite refusing to be seduced, been so? It had seemed so natural and compelling at the time, but now, in the harsh light of day, she could only conclude that perhaps she had done something silly. It was the night for silliness, however, she told herself. Out of character behavior was allowed, and it had been just a one-off, a moment to assuage the loneliness and ache for an entirely different person.

  It couldn't happen again. It was certainly not going to be a precursor for an affair. Still, she couldn't stop herself from turning over the implications in her mind, some possible strategy he could be using against her. If this had been a game on his part, he was much better at it than she'd given him credit for. If this wasn't a game, she wondered if that was even worse.

  Having Roisen Lorcan in love with her might be a much worse outcome. Not that she expected him to go against a lifetime of ingrained behavior and personality. No, he was not the kind of person who fell in love, which again made her endlessly return to the question of what this all meant. Closing her eyes, she conceded she had been stupid, causing herself unnecessary complexity. It had been so magical, though, a chance to let go of all the burdens—just for a moment.

  If it could only be a one-off thing that meant nothing more, but unfortunately nothing was ever that simple here, was it? And the last thing she wanted was to make her life more complicated. Not to mention the fact that he had a wife. Admittedly not a marriage in the way she defined a marriage, where the partners loved and trusted one another, or even seemed to expect loyalty. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that she had trespassed on something and she didn't feel good about it. No, what they'd done could never happen again.

  Taking a breath, she looked out of the window and across the valley and tried to still her mind. It had happened; it had been a moment of weakness and it would never happen again. With a sigh, she turned her attention to Tabain, who was making a mess with his meal. She smiled and joined him, determined to spend a few hours with him before she slept.

  *

  It was with nervousness that she entered the hall where Raufasger was holding his audience that night. There were some who still looked worse for wear from the night before, but most looked as sparkling and refined as they always did. A juvenile instinct crept in, wondering if Roisen had told people of what they'd done, bragged about his conquest.

  Perhaps that would be good, a clear indication that they were not friends, and there would never be a question that there would be something more. This was the fraught thing. What if she fell in love with him? That was the thing that could not be borne. Love of any kind would be disastrous.

  Obviously, she would never let that happen.

  She smiled to Lord Merrywor as she walked past, a man she didn't really know, but seemed to be an acquaintance of Lord Wierstoke. Alliances of alliances had to be respected. By extension, this man might seek to protect her alliance with Wierstoke if it were ever th
reatened. Otherwise, like a house of cards, they might all fall down. Unfortunately, it went both ways and she would be embroiled if Merrywor was challenged. On the upside, she was enveloped in a very strong faction.

  Roisen stood on the other side of the room, talking to a man Ashra didn't know. Casually, he looked over, apparently noticing her attention. A slight nod of his head was the only acknowledgement. She nodded back, then turned away. It told her nothing, but it wasn't bad news either. She would just have to wait to see how this played out.

  "Where is she?" a man yelled loudly and everyone stopped talking. With surprise, Ashra turned to see a man standing in the middle of the room, staring up at Raufasger who was sitting on his throne. "Where is she?" the man repeated. He looked frantic. It was Lord Gray, the man who had presented his daughter mere days ago. What was going on?

  Ashra's gaze shifted to Raufasger, whose eyes, instead of being confused and concerned, were narrowed. "Lord Gray. Have you misplaced your daughter?" Raufasger said wryly.

  "What have you done with her?" the man accused.

  "Silence," Raufasger said and the man quieted. The entire hall was deathly silent.

  "Tell me what you have done with her," the man continued, his voice shaking. In fact, his whole body was shaking.

  "I have no idea what you're referring to," Raufasger said curtly, but his anger was clear.

  "Give her back."

  "I said silence!" Raufasger roared.

  "Gerald, please," a woman pleaded, obviously the man's wife.

  "She is not yours to take. Give her back. Tell me where she is."

  "You dare challenge me! I said I don't know, but you're still talking." Raufasger rose from his chair. "How dare you? You think you can demand anything here? This is my court. You do not make demands."

  "Our girl," the man pleaded. "We want our girl back."

  "Still you prattle. I want, I want, I want. Am I here to please you, Lord Gray? Am I here to cater to your incessant demands?" The liege's voice was rising, echoing off the ceiling. "I want, I want, I want. I don't care what you want. How is what you want possibly relevant? You are nothing."