“Hmm. It was a conspiracy of those who care for you. Sari and Camilla prepared your bath and Elder Patricio was to keep you busy when we rode in.”
“Patricio, too?” Fleur pushed away just enough to look at him then nestled back onto his chest. “I am surprised he helped you.” She laughed softly. “He knows we are responsible for his missing eyebrows. They never completely grew back—just tufts. He looks like a deranged squirrel.” She took a deep, contented breath. “I liked it better when you two were at odds. Now I'm totally outnumbered.”
Lifting her off his lap, he handed her a washcloth and soap with a courtly bow. “We will never conspire against you again, my Lady. I pledge my solemn oath.”
She snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Hah! In the future, you will merely take more care to hide it.”
With a playful growl, he pounced, submerging them both under the warm water.
* * * * *
Fleur, dry and surrounded with a pleasant cloud of soft sandalwood and bergamot scent, snuggled into Ari’s arms as he carried her to her bed. He laid her down, and joined her, propping his head on one elbow, gently stroking her face. “The joint summit was informative. The League will keep two of their battle cruisers stationed in orbit around Verdantia—ostensibly until such time as we can take over our own defense.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued.
“Admiral Lockwood relayed some troubling information about the council. We must address that as soon as possible. We also began discussions on how to organize the recovery of our citizens. On the surface, the talks were cooperation. Underneath the superficial platitudes, they were the usual weary assortment of lies, deceit and ulterior motives.”
Fleur closed her eyes, enjoying his stroking. “We will need a complete briefing. From your tone, the League is a cause for concern. But for tonight, I would like to hold the outside world at bay. Necessary business for Verdantia has occupied all of our time. So, at this moment, I wish to spend a small portion on just us.” She opened her eyes. “Ari, I have done considerable thinking in the month we been apart.”
“And where have your thoughts taken you?”
“For one, to your knowledge of the bedroom arts. Your reputation is, well, notable.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “That is being kind. The word you want is ‘notorious’.” He sighed. “I cannot undo my past.”
“Umm.” She examined his face trying to memorize every detail, every line. If he said yes to her offer, this might be the last time she would have the opportunity. “The limited sexual experience I have had came in performing the Lesser Rites. Until you, I never made ‘love’. I don’t know how to please a lover. I have never had sex when I wasn’t chanting something. Even then, I have had two partners— Perry and some seventh-level who didn’t give me the courtesy of a first name. What I know about sex is what I read in a book or what I learn from you.”
Ari stroked her softly. “Your inexperience is not unattractive.”
Fleur looked at him in disbelief. “Since going back into society, I heard your name coupled with many beautiful, sophisticated women. I recently met several of them. They are amazing.” She dropped her gaze. “How can I possibly hold your interest compared to them? It seems I am like three-quarters of our world, Ari. I am in love with you.” She cleared her throat. “I worry you will find me unexciting, provincial, gauche. Ari, I would die inside if I disappointed you, if I could not keep you happy.”
He made an inarticulate sound of protest but she continued. She could not look at him. I have got to get through this. “Then there is that contract. We will be joined in marriage in the very near future. It seems all Verdantia, with the notable exception of the crown princess, knew how vehemently you despised that contract. If you entertain any second thoughts, any doubts, please tell me now. It would destroy a part of me to discover afterward you felt trapped or coerced.”
She had to force the words out. “A wedding is not required, Ari. There is no stigma in my having you as a lover. I mean… should you want me, that is…as a lover,” she stammered.
He drew back, sitting up. “Look at me, Fleur. Listen to me.” His hands cupped her face, gently but firmly, forcing her to meet his earnest gaze. “I don’t remember any woman before you. Do you understand my words?” His eyes searched her face.
“I think I understand your meaning.” She couldn’t stop a smile from playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Where you are concerned, for the first time in my life, I find myself intensely possessive. I want you legally bound to me. There will be no escape for you. You are mine.”
Dear goddess, thank you, thank you. “Will you please forgive me if I ask you to repeat that from time to time?”
He cuddled her to him and brushed his lips against hers in a soft, searching kiss. As always, her body responded to him. “I will remind you as often as you need,” he promised.
Lying quietly for a few moments, he threw an intent look toward her. “I was sixteen, the proud son of a noble house, as wild as the horses I rode. One memorable afternoon, your father, Elder Patricio, and my parents summoned me. They handed me a marriage contract. What they threatened me with to make me sign it you don’t need to hear.” He gave a slight shudder. “No, you don’t need to hear that.”
He caught her eyes again. “I signed their contract, but a rage burned inside my gut that I could scarcely control. I drowned it between the breasts and thighs of any female who caught my eye.” He sighed. “And there were also men.” Again, he was quiet for a long moment, playing with the fingers of her hand. “Somehow, Fleur, you have brought a peace to me I thought I would never find. It is hard, now, to remember those times.”
Drawing back, he examined her face. “Whose words trouble you? Who has been whispering in your ear?”
“By the Goddess, Ari. If unwound, the list of ladies and lords asking for a private audience to dissuade me from making a ’painful mistake‘ would roll across the room, out the door and down the staircase.”
Ari winced a little at her sarcastic huff.
“It would be easier to list those who did not seek me out. Just…” She paused, then continued. “Promise you will tell me if I am…” There was a long silence while she considered her words. “If I am ever not enough for you.”
“My feelings about you are unique in my experience,” he sighed. “With my past, you can trust I know my mind.”
Gathering her to him, he lay back and settled her under his arm.
“I will be faithful to you, my Lady. You can trust me.”
They lay there in a relaxed silence for several minutes before she took a deep breath. “I believe you, Ari.” But do you love me?
* * * * *
“Your Royal Highness, Conte DeTano. Please, take a seat here. Thank you for attending us so promptly this morning. I apologize for the early hour, but we could not wait any longer.”
Elder Patricio ushered Fleur and Ari into the council chambers and seated them in the large cushioned chairs facing the horseshoe shaped, stair-stepped gallery. She glanced about and cast startled eyes at Ari. The entire quorum of L’anziano was present. The rustle of robes and shush of whispers halted as she and Ari settled into their seats.
Pacing nervously back and forth, Elder Patricio began.
“As I know the conte likes plain speaking, I will come straight to the point. From the end of the Tetriarch, 456 years ago, every elder in the L’anziano has studied, worked and dreamed of being alive when that special combination of genes reoccurred. It is the reason we elders exist. Our life’s work is to construct the bloodlines to recreate a genetic combination evidencing that ability again. Conte Camliel Aristos DeTano, Princess Fleur de Luna Constante, you possess two of the three gene profiles required.”
Elder Patricio seated himself on the first level, not three feet from the couple. His wispy voice vibrated with triumph. “The genetic profile of the Tetriarch has reoccurred.”
Patricio waited for the rustle an
d stir in the chamber to die down before he continued. “We were not certain, of course, but with the extraordinary results after the Great Rite and then Renewal of Small Flame, we had such hope. We felt we had at least two of the genetic keys.” He nodded at Ari. “When you came to my rooms and advised me of your interaction with Verdantia’s sentience, I was almost certain.”
She looked at Ari in wonder. He reached for her hand, holding it closely clasped in his.
“Conte DeTano, I know you did not neglect your history,” the elder noted. “Your Royal Highness, tell me what you know of the Tetriarch.”
She cleared her throat and looked at Ari nervously. “Primo Federago, Segundo Agentio and Prima Isolde ruled jointly in Verdantia from NT Solar Date 4142 to 4185. They established the sigil tower network protecting us. Critically important was the Tetriarch’s ability to empower all thirty-two tower diamantorre. And they did it without cinnagin. The Tetriarch founded the L’anziano to preserve and duplicate their combination of genes and further our understanding of Verdantia’s electro-magnetic energies—what the commoners call magick.”
The elder leaned forward in his chair and nodded his approval. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness. The L’anziano has, over the past few centuries, observed one individual in a given generation with the proper genetic map but we never had two living in the same generation—much less three.”
Turning to Ari, he began tentatively. “Conte DeTano, your military attaché, Visconte Doral Celestia Agentio DeLorion, forgive my plain speaking, could you bring yourself to, ahem, enjoy carnal relations with him? Do you find him distasteful in any way?”
“I find nothing about him distasteful.”
“I am relieved to hear that. We were concerned. After a year and a half together, the two of you never, umm, that is, we, ah—feared—there could be some, ah, sexual impediment,” the elder stammered and finished hurriedly. “I ask, of course, because we think he carries the third genetic signature.” Elder Patricio sank into his chair and eyed Ari apprehensively.
“How do you know we never…” There was a long pause and Fleur watched while Ari studied Patricio. His fingers set up a steady drumming on the arm of his chair. “Is there no end to your manipulation and spying on me?”
“You would see it that way.”
Ari stared at the elder for long moments, his face a cold mask. “You played with Visconte DeLorion’s life and mine for your own purposes, Elder.”
“Verdantia’s purposes, not mine.”
“You risked Fleur’s life,” Ari seethed.
“You are straying from the subject, Conte DeTano. It was her duty. There was no other option.” Patricio’s flat voice softened. “My remorse was genuine.”
She could feel the bones in her fingers rub together as his hand gripped hers tighter and tighter. “Ari, please, you are crushing my hand.”
“Sorry.” He relaxed his grip.
His eyes narrowed, spearing Patricio with an assessing stare. “My order forbidding superior/subordinate sexual relations must have scrambled your little game, Ruprecht,” he drawled.
A long sigh escaped the elder. “It was not a game, Conte DeTano. We had hoped you would have established a more—intimate—relationship with DeLorion by now. We needed to know.” Patricio brought up a trembling hand and massaged his forehead. “We meant well. It was so important you had a chance to know each other. DeLorion is unaware of his heritage. To him, you were just his next posting.”
“From your point of view, I suppose we have been manipulative. It changes nothing.” There was a mass clearing of throats and a rustle of robes signaling a general unease.
She looked at the gathered assembly, then to Patricio and finally back to Ari.
Ari was eyeing Patricio in blatant disgust. His lips curled contemptuously. “If you wanted me to fuck him so you could test your pet theories, why didn't you just ask me to?”
With an inarticulate bellow of exasperation, Patricio stood, throwing his hands up. “Because for fifteen years, you have been insanely resistant to cooperating with us!” His shout reverberated throughout the chamber. Patricio slumped back into his chair. Sinking into his robes, he crossed his arms belligerently and glowered at Ari.
Oh dear, they are staring at each other like demon-wolves. I give Ari two minutes before he is out of his chair and at Patricio’s throat.
An audible groan rose from the elders. Several silent, uneasy moments ticked by.
She reflected on all she had learned about her warlord in the past month. Her soft chuckle broke the silence.
“You have been difficult, Ari.” Such a very, very wicked man.
She grinned at him mischievously. Ari cast a hostile look her way. Oh, don’t take that attitude with me, my Lord. You know very well what Patricio is speaking of.
She laughed, shaking her head at him. She gestured broadly with her hands, raising her eyebrows, “You are proving his point, Ari.”
He scowled in response. Confronted by her grin as time ticked away, a smile teased the corners of his mouth. Finally, rolling his eyes, he growled in acknowledgment. “All right, all right, point taken.”
Shaking his head, conceding defeat, her warlord sprawled in his chair, the picture of relaxed composure. Lifting her hand, he kissed the back of it before returning it to his lap. The entire chamber let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Even Patricio managed a ragged smile.
Including Elder Patricio in his sweeping look, Ari addressed the elders, “My sincere apologies for past ill-behavior, esteemed L’anziano. What would you have us do?”
* * * * *
Doral helped Ari straighten the sword belt and ornate gold scabbard hanging low across his hips. If Doral’s hands caressed his buttocks ever so slightly and lingered a little over-long there, Ari ignored it as he ignored the rapid thickening of his cock in response. Through much practice, ignoring his reaction to Doral was second nature—he just couldn’t get certain parts of his body to cooperate.
He eyed Doral covertly. The visconte’s golden hair tumbled to his trim waist past broad shoulders covered with lean, long muscle. Multiple small braids restrained the hair at his temples. Form-fitting leather breeches and soft over-the-knee boots covered his high, tight buttocks and long, horseman's legs. They left no part of his anatomy below the waist to imagination. The full bulge in the front of Doral’s leathers had fired his imagination on many lonely, solitary nights. Worse, his erotic enthrallment was reciprocal. Ari had caught the heated, surreptitious glances Doral threw his way periodically.
Ari disentangled the loops of gilt braid hanging from the epaulets on the shoulders of his dress uniform. “Damn things keep getting caught in the medals, Doral. I think the LFP uniforms are far more practical, a simple jumpsuit with bars of rank, no frippery for them.” He pulled his jacket down by its skirts and squared his shoulders, examining its fit in the mirror.
“Our High Command greatly outshines our allies, sir.”
“Yes,” Ari snorted, “a highly utilitarian feature. Blinded by the glare off our decorative accessories, our enemies fall before us.”
Choking off a laugh, Doral turned and picked up two ornately wrought blades, holding them out in display. “Which will you wear, sir?”
Ari eyed them. “Very handsome pieces, Doral; are they functional?”
Doral arched a brow. “Of course. This blade is one I commissioned at your request from Master Iridian. The second, a gift from Major Truillo, is almost too fine a work of the blade maker’s art to bloody.”
“Major Truillo?”
“Major Truillo offered it to ‘commemorate your victory over the Haarb’ and as an expression of his ‘enduring affection’.”
Ari rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “I should have done more to discourage the major’s ‘affections’.”
“I would have handled that, had I known he was unwelcome.” For the space of three heartbeats, silence reigned. “Sir.” Doral tap-danced along the fine line of insubordination.
Ari regarded Doral narrowly. “Doral, I harbor no interest in Major Truillo. There is only one other I desire with the same regard as my lovely princess. He possesses vastly greater appeal and is far more worthy of my attentions than Truillo.”
Doral looked away, his expression neutral.
Ari sighed to himself. A light chime sounded in the room as Ari flicked at the medallions adorning his chest. “By the gods, man, one of these medals should be for self-restraint. Keeping my hands off you for over a year has been my own personal hell.” Ari’s eyes drifted to his own bulging trouser front. “Doral, you are my subordinate. I would have a very hard time enforcing my orders if I violated them myself.”
Doral’s eyes had followed Ari’s gaze. One corner of his mouth twitched upward. Blue eyes met hazel. “I have intimate knowledge about sexual violation by a superior officer. It was well done of you to put a stop to that abuse of rank.” Doral stepped away from him and broke eye contact. “You probably saved my life.”
“The Lady Allegra Contradina was your previous superior officer.”
“Allegra is a lethal, malevolent bitch.”
Doral’s normal reserve and disciplined self-possession made his bitter, venomous statement even more shocking. His visconte closed his eyes and relaxed his stance, then took a deep, steady breath. When he continued, it was with his usual, calm poise.
“Relations between House Contradina and House DeLorion have a bitter personal history.”
“She said it amused her to put a DeLorion prince in his ‘proper place beneath her’.” Doral cleared his throat. “She taught me ten different ways to kill a man with my bare hands.” His voice became even more dispassionate. “And a hundred ways to inflict pain. I met her particular needs. She liked her sex rough, very, very rough.” Dropping his gaze, his voice hardened. “And that is all I wish to say about it.”
“We need never speak of it again, Visconte.”
Doral nodded, remaining quiet for a few moments. “My term of military service is over in four months.” He straightened his stance, squaring his shoulders. “My intention was to re-enlist. If I understand correctly, you would prefer I did not?” A hesitant, questioning smile transformed his striking features.
Hers to Command Page 11