Nightshade

by Shea Godfrey

  Darry stepped forward and bowed her head, placing the back of Jessa’s hand against her forehead. The quiet song of Jessa’s bracelets filled the air between them as she let out a slow breath and closed her eyes.

  Jessa reached out with her left hand but then hesitated, wanting to touch Darry’s hair again but uncertain. Oh, Darry, I love you, I do…but I don’t know how to help. You must tell me if you can because, because I don’t know how to do this.

  Darry lowered Jessa’s hand and turned it over. Her fingertips skated lightly over the skin before she leaned close. Jessa’s heart skipped as Darry kissed the center of her palm, her lips slow and lingering until etiquette no longer existed.

  “Jessa,” she whispered simply, then turned away and moved down the terrace.

  Jessa closed her eyes, unmoving as she listened to the sound of Darry’s boots fading into the distance. Vhaelin essa.

  “Close the door, you foolish child,” Radha said, though her voice held no reprimand. “You’re late.” Radha was in her favorite chair beside the small fire of the hearth.

  “Mind your tongue, old woman.”

  Radha laughed. “Her attentions suit you.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Jessa said, stepping away from the door and whipping off her cloak. She threw it onto the foot of the bed. “I must see to the Queen.”

  “She is well,” Radha said. “She sleeps soundly with the Lady Emmalyn by her side to watch over her. She was given a draught of valerian root. Her heart beats strong and without pain, and her blood runs clean. She could not catch her breath. Part of her world came crashing down, yes?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jessa sat on the heavy lid of the trunk at the end of the bed. “But I felt a great fear within her, and sorrow.”

  “Not an easy spell to weave,” Radha said. Not even for me, my child. You weave spirit majik as if it were a trivial thing. Those runes can destroy as easily as they heal.

  Jessa gave an absent wave of her hand. “It was needed.”

  “Your Princess had a lover once, when she was younger.”

  “What do you know?”

  “A girl named Aidan. The King and his Prince did not like it and so they threatened to ruin her family if she did not spurn the young Darrius. She did as was ordered out of fear for her family. The girl’s father was given much gold and land titles, no doubt to soothe someone’s conscience. They disappeared from the city one night never to be seen again.” Radha watched Jessa’s face as she spoke. “It was just today that your Princess finally found out the truth, that her father and his heir did such harm to—”

  “Enough, Radha,” Jessa snapped, rising from the trunk and stepping around the bed. She remembered Darry’s pain all too well, and that it might now be the source of careless gossip did not please her.

  “And that her mother knew, though too late to change things for them.”

  Jessa turned abruptly. “The Queen knew?”

  “She did. She was not a part of it, from what I could learn, but she’s known for some time. Your Darrius is now wise to her mother’s lie.”

  Jessa tried to adjust her thinking. My Lady, how could you?

  “It was her decision to hide the truth,” Radha said. “No doubt to keep your panther from gutting her prick of a son. I would’ve done the same, may the Vhaelin bless her and keep her well.”

  “Enough,” Jessa repeated, her temper quick. She unfastened her tunic as she walked to the dressing room. “Shall I ask how you found this out?”

  “I was not exactly spying,” Radha muttered beneath her breath.

  Jessa stepped to the arch and glared across the room. “Answer me, Radha.”

  “For my own safety I shall blame one of the cooks,” Radha replied as she turned to the warmth of the fire. “No one knows more than the cook, unless it’s the laundress. Nothing tells a tale like a dirty sheet.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Darry sat back in the steaming water of the polished wooden tub and put her arms along its smooth edge. She gasped as she let her spine bow outward, the dark bruises along her lower back and ribs giving protest. They eased as her body relaxed, though, and Darry stared beyond the high window of the private bath, catching a glimpse of sky.

  For the past three days she had done nothing but fight, every waking hour spent in the yards sparring with countless opponents. The sword, the mace, the spear and morning star, every weapon she had ever held before had come and gone, and every adversary had been punished and dispatched with little or no regard for their pride. No one wished to fight her anymore, and only Darry’s Boys remained for her to choose from.

  She still saw to her duties, though she had asked her peers of equal rank to take on most of them and they had agreed without question. When Longshanks asked for an explanation, she had fought with him as well. She had seen his concern but was incapable of stopping her temper. He had let her vent and then took her from the lists completely, telling her to spend her coin on some wine and a good fuck, for she seemed in need of both. It had been the only time she had laughed in days.

  And in the night when she was too restless to sleep she would find the small yard beyond the armory and move through the Dance, the discipline of Honshi, even as she had done the morning that Jessa had watched her in the practice yard. Over and over she would glide through the steps and challenge their order. It was the first time in her life that she had strayed from the heart of the discipline. The patterns were new as she wove like a phantom among the crowded practice dummies. She had taken her obedience and set it free.

  She did not attack the practice dummies outright but let her body move where it wanted instead, content to destroy them down to their posts when they entered her circle, and never once was there even the slightest hitch or hesitation in her actions. The Dance had adapted as if it were a living thing, and Darry used whatever maneuver befit the situation.

  She felt fear at what had been done to her and fear at how she was to fight her way clear of it. Fear of what she would do when her father and Malcolm returned. Though as to her brother there would be no great change in their relationship, only that her restraint would now be gone. I am the spear now, brother, not the thorn.

  She only ate because Bentley made her, or Arkady or Etienne. All of them had followed her about at any given time and she realized they were taking turns in watching over her. They were quiet about it, though, and unobtrusive, except for forcing her to eat at least a little. She could not argue against them, though the food sat like a stone in her belly. Only in the privacy of the baths could she find a true moment to herself.

  Darry dipped a hand in the water and wiped her face, forcing herself to take a deep breath in spite of the cramp it caused against her sore ribs. Whatever happens, it will be done…and I shall leave this place and not return.

  Darry frowned and for an instant she broke, the deep pain trying to claw its way free. She covered her eyes, taking a breath and then swallowing awkwardly on the hard fist in her throat. I shall leave, when all that I still love is here.

  She dropped her arms in the water, letting the heat soak into her flesh. Her mother had requested her presence at dinner, a gentle missive of invitation written in her mother’s flowing script. She had not begged exactly, but her words had been somehow pleading.

  “I thought it served no purpose to tell you what had been done, for it was over and there was no going back. There was no fixing it no matter how badly I wanted to.”

  She knew that her mother had spoken the truth, but it did little to ease the pain, learning that she had been a part of their betrayal, if only at a distance. Darry had tried to imagine what she might have done in her place, but it was too much and she could not see past the end results. It was too late to take back her words, and she was certain as well that she had every right and more. But it did not assuage her guilt at causing her mother pain, no matter her rights. Her mother had been ill because of her, because of her anger and…

  Bloody hell, I hit my ow
n mother. Darry tightened her arms about her legs. Did I? She was so close and I swung out, and I…oh, Hinsa, your wants are too deep. I can’t, I can’t control them anymore, I just can’t. As if in answer her blood rose just a touch. Darry felt its wild, tempting power and fell into it. And I don’t think I want to.

  But with Hinsa’s blood came the rush of her more furious emotions, and that was something she in no way wanted. With an effort she steeled her heart and her mind shrugged free, looking where it wanted. A soothing rhythm appeared in response, a cadence of thought that was natural to her now as she wondered how many braids would be held in Jessa’s hair.

  And so Jessa was there and flooding her thoughts like the sun.

  So beautiful and clean of darkness, so untouched by anything but the sweet emotions behind her expressions, Jessa was all that Darry could truly see. It had been so from the first and she knew that now. Each moment she had spent in her company, each word shared and every innocent touch, they had only driven the shaft deeper into Darry’s heart. She had looked forward to each hour she might steal with her and each meal they might share. Their nights on the balcony. She had even looked forward to the sewing, which should have been the first warning.

  Her flesh sang with the need to feel Jessa’s body against her own, and only her desire was strong enough to push away her rage. She had crossed that final line in Tristan’s Grove as she had lain in Jessa’s arms and wept. The satisfaction she found in Jessa’s embrace, no matter the circumstances, had allowed her to grieve for Aidan as she had not yet done, regardless of the years that had passed.

  The way you looked at me, sweet Jessa, there was no anger…and your hands on my skin. Did you know what you were doing? I’ve never been that way before, so at peace in another’s presence that I felt nothing but stillness. Everything inside was so quiet. It’s never been that quiet, not ever.

  And she entertained the idea, at last, that Jessa might not be as she appeared. She remembered their moment in the stables and how her every instinct had shouted that there was want on both sides. But she had been wild and Hinsa’s blood had been so thick she had no idea what the truth of it was anymore.

  In addition, they were not just two women free to do as they pleased, even if Jessa did want more. There was royal blood to be considered. Jessa’s etiquette and reputation were pristine and mired in the rules of her station. Even if her own honor was stolen now and her rebellion sincere, to tarnish Jessa would be a disgrace entirely her own.

  She had felt it, though. She had felt the entire thing push her gently and she had fallen, knowing it as it happened. Knowing she could not turn back and praying to the gods that it would still be safe to be near her, to have Jessa within her life, even in some small way. Despite all that she wished to do, the things she longed so desperately to do. Despite the desire to know Jessa’s flesh and to take her in her mouth, to taste of her spirit. To make her come and hear her cries, wondering how they might sound and if her sable eyes would darken to black in her passion. To know her as only a lover could. To show Jessa the true depth of her feelings.

  To show you the strength of my…blessed Gamar, help me, Jess, but I’ve bloody well fallen in love with you.

  Darry leaned back and the water splashed over the edge as her shoulders hit the wood.

  “I’m in love,” she said aloud, then laughed. “I’ve lost my mind.”

  But the words, the very fact of it all, filled her with a rush of warmth that stretched even to her toes. Love was here and had been for some time, and it was an amazing feeling despite everything.

  I want to be inside you, Jess, one sweet measure at a time as your jasmine spins my head. I would have your mouth on mine as you cry out and spend yourself beneath me. I would have you claw at my back and feel your legs wrapped about my body.

  “Sweet fucking Jezara.”

  Darry slid a slow hand between her legs and closed her eyes, letting out a moan of reprieve at the touch. Her hips rose beneath her own caress, her blood filled with need as her fingers traced the hardness of her desire and circled knowingly, everything swollen and aching as her thighs tensed and she pushed against the confines of the tub.

  Her muscles ached as she strained, and her release appeared like a storm on the sea and just as violent. She could feel the silk of her spirit despite the water, and her body tightened as she braced herself, covering a breast with her left hand and teasing the nipple while imagining Jessa’s long fingers in its place.

  Her belly erupted in flames as she came. She bit down on her lower lip and strangled the shout in her throat as the water splashed around her. She jerked hard through the climax and trembled in its aftermath, desolate and incomplete regardless of the pleasure. She cupped her sex and closed her legs, trying to think beyond her senses and the overwhelming arousal she still felt.

  She slid completely beneath the surface, wondering if everything that was still good in her life had just become a lie.

  *

  Cecelia and Emmalyn spoke frequently throughout the meal and occasionally Jessa would join in, but Darry contributed very little and ate even less. Emmalyn noted this with troubled interest and observed their mother as well, noticing that when Darry did speak Cecelia would pay strict attention. She did not miss the tremor in her mother’s hands or her nervousness. To others it might be overlooked, but it caused Emmalyn a great deal of worry. She had not forgotten that during their mother’s illness, Darry had only shown herself at night when Cecelia had been sleeping, careful to keep her visits hidden.

  When at last their meal was finished and a fine bottle of Ravonese gold was brought out, Darry pushed away from the table and walked toward the garden doors, both Cecelia and Jessa following her movements.

  Bloody hell and drunken hounds. Emmalyn cursed in silence and pushed her chair back as well. She picked up her goblet and then Darry’s and trailed after her. Darry moved beside the open doors, and Emmalyn handed her a fresh goblet of wine.

  Jessa was greedy for the sight of Darry and indulged her need without reservation or caution. It had been three days and two nights since their ride, and she had been so severe in her want to see Darry that Radha had actually yelled at her. Radha scolded and hissed and barked and laughed, but she never yelled. Jessa longed for her though she had no say in it.

  Cecelia touched Jessa’s arm and Jessa flinched in surprise. “Not to worry, I’m only looking for company,” Cecelia said.

  “You are well, my Lady?” Jessa asked.

  “I am.” Cecelia smiled at Jessa. She was happy that Jessa no longer wore the veil. Your face should never be hidden, Jessa. “And I hear that I have you to thank for that, in part.”

  “No, my Lady, you do not.”

  “I do. Do not lie out of modesty.”

  “I’m not.”

  “If you insist then. And I hear that you went riding with my daughter several nights ago.”

  “I did.”

  Cecelia wanted to smile at the fire in Jessa’s gaze. Is it feelings for my Cat that gives you such passion, or was it always your own? “Then I will thank you for that, instead. Darrius was—”

  “Upset?”

  “Yes.” You need not protect her from me.

  “This I know, my Lady, and she had every right to be.”

  Cecelia felt a jolt of surprise at the blatant challenge in Jessa’s voice, though she knew it was deserved. “I’m not denying that fact, Princess.” She found it interesting that Jessa seemed to know exactly what she was talking about, which meant that Darry had spoken of what happened. What am I missing?

  “Then do not seek to dress your actions in courtly words.”

  Cecelia accepted the accusation. No, you’ve had this fire burning in you for many years.

  “I’m glad that you’re well, my Lady, truly I am. I would’ve taken your grief upon myself if I could have. But your guilt is your own and I’ll have no part in it. As I shall have no part in manipulating your daughter into a peaceful resolution to your problem.”
Jessa rose from her chair. “I am a pawn already and on several fronts. I would not be used by you as well.”

  Cecelia took Jessa’s hand before she could move away. “I didn’t intend to ask such a thing, Jessa, I assure you.”

  “No? You weren’t going to ask what Darry said? How she seemed, or what her intentions are? You should ask her yourself.”

  “Perhaps. But I have no avenue into her thoughts now, and it cuts at my heart as you can’t possibly know. I wish to help her, if I can, to find some sort of peace with this.”

  Jessa sat back down, giving in against her better judgment.

  “She told you what happened? Is she all right?” Cecelia asked. “That’s all I ask. Is she well?”

  Jessa tried to compose her thoughts into an answer that would not betray Darry.

  “Is she all right?” Cecelia asked once more.

  “She is trapped, I am thinking.” Jessa chose her words with prudence. “Between then and now. If you denied her a love then, how might she have one now? How might she ever have one, yet still remain your daughter?”

  Cecelia was struck not only by the words but also by Jessa’s tone. What are you afraid of, Jessa? She searched across the room only to find Darry’s savage eyes, an expression of such ferocity there that her heart tightened. “How indeed,” Cecelia whispered, and rose as Darry moved across the hall. “Thank you, Jessa.”

  Darry stopped on the other side of the table, her eyes blazing as they challenged Cecelia. And then she turned and Cecelia saw them change instantly, filling with tender worry and question.

  “Princess, are you well?” Darry asked softly.

  Cecelia let out a startled breath.

  Jessa smiled with absolute affection. “Of course.”

  Cecelia heard it in Jessa’s voice instantly, like a clarion sounding into the silence of a winter’s night. Jessa’s expression revealed everything and Cecelia saw it all, even as she had those years ago when Aidan had looked up from her lace.