Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3)

by JK Ensley

  “He has not… not yet.”

  Yet, you believe he will.

  “Yes. They are close friends. Saizo is a good man. Many women think about him, desire him.”

  And yet, you hate the man. Why?

  Silence.

  Mika, remember the rules.

  “He thinks horrible things about me. He has even whispered some of them in my ear.”

  Horrible things? How can that be? You said the man hasn’t molested you, he has asked your guardian properly for your hand, he is desired by many women, and that he is a good man. Saizo obviously loves you. What horrible thing could he have thought, or said, that would garner such hatred from his fair maid?

  Mika rose up on her knees and buried her face completely in Musashi’s hair until her lips all but touched the back of his neck. Dropping her tiny whisper even lower, she confessed Saizo’s horrible sins for the Emperor’s ears alone.

  Upon hearing her words, Musashi tried to hold in a surprised laugh, but strangled on his tea instead. Concerned looks fell upon the mighty Ronin as he tried to choke out a few reassuring words. Mika curled in a ball at the base of his spine.

  “Apol-apol-apologies. I am gon-going t-to get som-some air.”

  Musashi coughed the tea out of his lungs as soon as he made it outside.

  “Why are you laughing?” Mika demanded.

  I’m coughing, not laughing.

  “Do you think I cannot hear the laughter roaring through your head?”

  The amused Emperor of Jinn finally gained control of his lungs and took a deep breath, filling them with the cool night air.

  You can hear that as well? My laughter?

  “Yes.”

  Tell me. Who else has knowledge of this great talent you have so easily shared with me?

  “No one,” she meekly admitted.

  “Not even Saizo?”

  “No one else knows I can hear their minds. I feared it would make them uncomfortable and they would shun me.”

  “Wise decision, child. Does any other Shinobi share this magical ability?”

  “No, at least, I don’t think so. I’ve searched them all for a kindred spirit and have found no one.”

  “You were unwise in sharing your secret with me, Mika,” Musashi confessed. “Why did you find such ease in divulging the truth of your rare treasure? You know me not, child.”

  “Bec-because I thought you s-shared in this ab-ability, Sire.”

  “Me? I am not Shinobi. What in the world would cause you to think such a thing?”

  “You were reading their minds, I heard you. You read each and every person in that room. You only erred in presuming fear where mere trepidation lived.”

  “What are you talking… Ooh, dear sweet child. I cannot read minds. I was only reading their expressions and mannerisms. I’m exceptionally perceptive, a swordsman has to be or he will soon find himself minus a head. Could you not tell I couldn’t read your mind? Why else would I make you speak?”

  “I didn’t know. I’ve never known another like me. I thought my mind was closed to you somehow. You were just so right in reading everyone else… I never doubted your ability.”

  “Oh, child, you dear… sweet… innocent girl.” He sighed. “I wish I didn’t know what I can now never forget.”

  Musashi wrapped his strong arms around her tiny form, holding her to his chest. For the first time in his life, the mighty Ronin felt pity.

  He knew he could never allow one with such ability as hers to live. It was just too dangerous. An invisible woman who can read minds? Going about unnoticed, storing up secrets men kept locked away? She could easily fell any creature, any man upon the whole of this realm, and never be seen… even by the one whose life she claimed. Not even Musashi’s blades could prove so deadly a thing. But he carefully kept these thoughts from forming clearly in his mind and striking true fear within Mika’s innocent little heart.

  “Why were you laughing?” she whispered.

  “Wha-what did you say?”

  “Why did you laugh at me when I told you about Saizo?”

  Musashi couldn’t help but stifle another chuckle, which caused Mika to strike him upon the chest.

  “Is that truly as hard as you can hit, little girl?”

  “Did it not hurt you?”

  He laughed again. “I dare say I would never have known I was struck at all, were I not looking at you.”

  Mika continued the faint humming her Emperor had requested she always do in his presence. She felt safe with him; she had from the first moment Goemon had spotted him while he was still miles away. She tightened her grip around his waist and took notice of how hard his stomach and chest were. He was a huge man with broad shoulders and massive arms, but he felt deceptively thin to her.

  She felt the vibrations from his restrained laughter once more.

  “You’re not going to answer me, are you?” she said, pouting.

  “Mika, my dear, you have no reason to fear or hate Saizo. Trust me. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

  “What does that mean? Shall I hide from him until I am old? I don’t understand.”

  “No, child.” He let out a sigh. “Hanzo and Hinata have raised you from birth, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And not once have you ever seen him hold her or kiss her?”

  “Of course I have. They always hold hands when we walk, and Hanzo never fails to kiss her forehead each morning as she’s preparing breakfast. All is well, they’re married. They can do such things.”

  Musashi couldn’t keep from laughing out loud at her frank, matter-of-fact answer.

  “Mika, my love, you are a treasure I never wish to be parted from.” He stroked her long dark hair. “I cannot explain Saizo’s thoughts to you without destroying what I hold most precious about you. I promise to explain everything to you one day, when you’re older. Trust me in this, child. You have no need to fear Saizo, for he would never harm you.”

  “I cannot bear to look into his eyes for fear the horrible images will race through his mind once more. Please, Musashi, don’t ask me to plead with Hanzo and convince him to give my hand to that evil Saizo. I trust you, but do not ask this thing of me, Sire.”

  “Plead for his hand? You mistake intent, child. I simply said you need not fear him. He isn’t evil.” He held her ever tighter, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. “But he will never take your hand. Fret not over that, little one.”

  “What do you mean? Are you going to kill Lord Saizo?”

  “What? How does your mind work, Maiden, if you glean ill intent from such words?”

  “My age is all that stays my guardian’s consent,” she said. “If you vow Saizo will never have me, then that could only mean he is dead.”

  Musashi gently wiped the silent tears from Mika’s angelic face and tucked her silky long hair back behind her tiny ear. Those large sad eyes glistened up at him in the moonlight. He took her delicate chin in his calloused hand.

  “Do you wish me to kill him?” he asked, staring deep into her eyes.

  Mika didn’t speak.

  “The answer, beautiful little lady, would be NO. Taking a man’s life is no glorious thing, especially one who holds your angelic beauty in such high regard. Do not willingly invite evil into your heart, dear one. Let not darkness shadow the one thing you possess I hold so dear.”

  “You hold my heart dear to you?” Her voice trembled when she spoke.

  “I do. And not only your heart, but the whole of you as well.”

  “Will you be my guardian, Musashi? Will you take me with you, back to your home?”

  “Is that your wish?”

  Her smile beamed in the moonlight. “Oh yes, more than anything.”

  “Very well, then. I had no intention of leaving you here, anyway. I will speak to Hanzo after we return from visiting Mikage on the morrow.”

  Mika squeezed his waist and buried her face in his stomach, so much so, he had a hard time making out her muffled
words.

  “I love you, Musashi.”

  “Yes, I know you do.” His voice trailed off with his thoughts. “I fear you may come to regret that.”

  He continued to stroke her silky hair while he held her tiny body protectively against him. His cold heart was soothed by the feel of her trembling in his arms as she freely cried her happiest of tears, under those perfectly glowing moons.

  “Yes, I fear you most certainly will regret it,” he whispered.

  Chapter 8

  Jenevier

  (ZHEN-ah-veer)

  “Ah, dearest sister, there you are.” Valencia’s smile beamed brightly. “I have been waiting on you for hours. How fares my little niece or nephew?” She lightly touched Jenevier’s swollen belly as she sang out her words.

  Jenevier spoke without emotion or care. “You lie. You entered my home only moments ago.”

  “I didn’t claim to be in your home for hours, I simply said I’d been waiting that long. I paid a visit to loving parents first. They told me you were out walking.”

  The tension in the air between these beautiful women made Varick’s wings tingle, and brought to mind the warning Jenevier had confided in him that she would one day bring retribution down upon his only sister’s head.

  “Valencia, dear, go and bear false tongue to someone who cares about your secret roaming. I do not.” She crossed her arms over her chest and forced her ethereal sister to hold her resolute gaze. “You entered Vanahirdem’s gate and made your way straight here. You’ve had precisely seven and one half minutes to yourself, alone in my home. More than enough time to rifle through my meager possessions… yet again.”

  Varick eased Jenevier down onto the lounge, propping her tired, swollen feet upon a padded stool. She tried her best to stretch her spine as far as possible, bringing some much needed relief to her pressed lungs.

  “I’ll make some tea,” Varick said as he kissed her forehead.

  “What’s she prattling on about, dear brother?” Valencia laughed, haughtily. “Wherever does she dream up such fascinating tales?”

  Varick ignored her quip as he made his way into the kitchen.

  “While we’re on the subject, precious sister, you will return my journal this very day. I will heed no pleas of innocence from your lying tongue.” Jenevier let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t even care why you took the damn thing. But it will be back upon my nightstand before this day comes to its end.”

  “Or what?” The angelic Vanir snapped out her words, momentarily losing her practiced façade of control. “Are you going to strike me down in my own home? With my brother as witness, no less? Have you not learned your lesson about murdering innocents?”

  “This is not your home, nor has it been for hundreds of years now. And don’t kid yourself, Valencia dear, you are far from innocent.”

  “I won’t stand here and be spoken to thusly. Varick, have you nothing to say concerning this woman’s ill treatment of fair sister?”

  The ever regal man remained silent as he brought out three cups of hot rose tea and placed them on the table.

  “Sit or stand, it matters not to me,” Jenevier said calmly. “I will speak to you exactly how your vile actions cause me to speak to you.”

  Varick handed Jenevier a steaming cup and sat down beside her. She took the first blissful sip and felt her whole body relax with its warmth.

  “Gratitude, my love. You are an Angel, my Angel.” Jenevier smiled at the beautiful Guardian beside her.

  “I believe we all know who the Angel is here.” He teased her as he twirled one of her pink curls around his finger.

  “Ugh, you disgust me, Brother. After everything this evil creature has done to you, you still pine for her worthless and poisonous affection. I never dreamed you were so weak.” Valencia spat out her words as she headed toward the door.

  “My journal, Witch. Bring it to me within the hour,” Jenevier said.

  “You’re the all-powerful one. Find it yourself,” she hissed.

  “I will not always be burdened with child, Valencia. You would do well to heed my words.”

  “We shall see.” She slammed the door and was gone.

  Jenevier released a weary sigh. “The whole of my life is in that journal, Varick. All of it.”

  “In the wrong hands…” His words trailed off.

  “Yes. In the wrong hands, we’ll never be safe,” she whispered as she rubbed her enormous belly.

  “I will find it, my love. I will move heaven and hell to see you both safe,” he vowed.

  “I need you ever by my side now, my Prince.” She laughed. “I cannot even get off this lounge without you.”

  “I won’t leave you, now or ever. I know not God’s plan, yet I fear the day my mother receives summons against my dear sister.”

  “As do I, for Vareen’s sake. But it’s coming, my love. It is coming.”

  Jenevier finished her tea and Varick helped her to the bath. He gently untied her dress, letting it fall to the floor, the same as he’d done every day for over a month now.

  “How pathetic a creature am I? Surely there are women who bathe and dress themselves right up until labor takes them. And here I stand, large as a mountain and helpless as a kitten,” she complained.

  Varick did not answer. He spoke not a word as he continued through their daily ritual. When he scooped her dress off the floor, he placed his normal kiss upon her tight belly. Yet today, he lingered, placing a second kiss near the first. The third kiss drew Jenevier’s attention to her loving Guardian. But he wasn’t done. When his attentions reached her swollen breasts, she felt the weakness in her knees. When his hot mouth seized upon her neck, she could no longer contain the soft whimper. It escaped her lips, fueling his passionate explorations. Her heartbeat raced as her breathing grew heavier.

  “Varick…”

  He cut her words off when his mouth found hers. Jenevier’s mind whirled as his kisses continued to grow more passionate. When he slid his tongue inside her mouth, she nearly swooned.

  “I thought your desire for me had faded. You’ve not kissed me like that for ages,” she said, gasping, clinging tight to his arms for fear she would faint. “I believed your passion was now only for the child growing within me.”

  “Then your thoughts deceive you, my love. I only meant to give you room to heal. Give you the needed space to properly grieve your loss.” He placed tender little kisses along her collarbone. “Yet, every day I fantasize about the brief moments we’ve shared together, holding on desperately to one another, trying to experience an eternity of happiness within just a few breaths.” Varick cupped her cheeks, looking deep into her shocked eyes. “Like the night you accepted my manacle. There, within the realm of your people, we experienced our love for the first time. My chest still tightens, painfully so, when I recall the soft feel of your skin against mine, the look in your beautiful eyes as I entered you, claiming your most delicious flower.” He lightly kissed the corners of her mouth. “And then, our brief time at the hot springs that day. The warm sun upon your golden curls, the smell of roses in the air, the way your body moved against mine.” A slight tremor ran up his spine, his breath hitched. “I nearly lose control every time my mind drifts back to that most magical of all nights, the unforgettable summons we shared in the enchanting city of Paris, on layer eight. Remember?”

  The crimson glow now covering her cheeks answered his question minus her words.

  He smiled. “I can see you do. That night, we shared in the glorious feelings of our raw desire, unhindered, primal passion. The thought alone arouses me almost past controlling.” He took a deep breath. “Now, know this, my Princess. Not a moment passes I do not wish to caress your soft body, hold you in my arms once more, tell you how beautiful you are, breathe in your intoxicating scent. It’s only due to mine own weakness I cannot let go of you now. Forgive me, my love. I could not wait one moment more to taste your perfect lips again.”

  “Forgive you? Whose mind now deceives the
m?” She put her hands over her face and shook her head. “I have mourned my loss, selfishly have I mourned him. But in all things, I never dreamed of your love being returned to me, Varick.” She looked up at him. “I don’t deserve you, but I greedily claim your heart if it’s still offered me.”

  “It has only ever been yours, tiny Angel. Do with it as you will. I can fight its constant pull no longer. Love me or destroy me, I gladly accept my fate.” He lightly kissed the base of her neck as he spoke. “You will once again be mine, Jenevier. This I swear. I will not rest until I own the whole of your exquisite heart. We have an eternity to love and fight and laugh and cry. I care not which… as long as you remain in my arms, always.”

  “This I have vowed to you already. I will not leave your side, even if you hate me,” she whispered. “I have promised you my sword, my support, my eternity. I will never break that promise, not again.” Tears filled her magical eyes.

  “It was but one day here and the few hours you spent in hell. Only then were you ever in another’s arms. In the span of eternity, I can allow you those few moments… but no more.” He gently squeezed her.

  “I don’t deserve you.”

  “I know.” He smiled warmly. “But one day my manacle will be back upon your finger where it belongs, one day soon. And I look forward to the day when your belly is swollen with my son as well, and we live this moment once again.” He took her chin in his hand. “Jenevier, you have won love no matter which direction you’ve turned. It’s a disease that plagues your every breath. But I swear to you now, not Vareilious or Vittorio or Apollyon or even Alzeen can love you as much as I always will.” He tenderly placed a warm kiss on her forehead. “And now, I have an eternity to prove it. You’ve promised me this chance by your own word, and I will hold you to that promise, forever.”

  “This has only ever happened in my dreams, Varick.” Tears slowly streamed from her closed eyes. “I feared moments like this were forever lost with you. Tell me true, my love. Do I now dream or is this blessed reality?”