Empress Hiding

  If Dalis noticed the ‘faithful one’ slip, he did not let on as such as he continued past her into the food prep area. Chiyoto had, in fact, made the same mistake this morning when she had been so very hungry.

  “We are so glad to hear that, Hanfendi,” he smiled warmly – his shoulder-length gray hair flowing with his movements, “The Magistrate was worried because you slept so long.”

  Chiyoto felt the blush rise in her cheeks again as a smile spread unbidden across her face – Rafal’s parting words echoing through her mind.

  Dalis could not lie even if his or his animal’s life depended on it.

  “Oh, he was, was he?”

  Dalis paused and looked directly at her.

  “You need to ask, Hanfendi?”

  Chiyoto averted her eyes when Dalis’ stare became a bit more intense than just a friendly question – she had obviously forgotten the “not so subtle” part of her own analysis of his being. She shrugged her shoulders to lighten the moment.

  “Well, does he not have many females, Dalis?”

  Dalis nearly choked as he dropped the cutting board – Chiyoto initially took his clumsiness as a sign that he might be attempting to lie until the elder steward broke into a serious chuckle – the whole time trying to right the board to its proper placement. He took special care to place everything on the countertop back to its particular position while he tried to calm his laughter so as not to wake Mischief.

  And, as his laughter trailed off, Dalis’ head slowly shook side-to-side as he re-focused his gaze on Chiyoto.

  “Shhhhhh,” Dalis placed three fingers over his own lips as he glanced in the direction of the sitting room. The steward had actually meant that he did not want to arouse Rafal’s suspicion whereas Chiyoto thought he meant that they needed to be quiet not to wake his altre.

  “Oh,” she placed her own fingers innocently over her lips, “Sorry, gentle one, we forgot about Mischief sleeping.”

  She grinned at him playfully, and, with only a slight moment’s hesitancy on his part, Dalis returned her grin and continued in a much more hushed tone, “The Prime Magistrate has never even introduced me to a female much less kept one under the same roof with him for longer than it took to …,” Dalis let his own words trail off with his embarrassment of the subject.

  But Chiyoto could not help but crinkle up her face with concern … or was that jealousy Dalis read there?

  “So, is it the same female often, Dalis?”

  Dalis’ face got a sad almost despondent look to it.

  “Never the same female, Hanımefendi,” Dalis’ voice was quiet and shaking – the change in his address seeming to surprise even himself, “And only once or twice every few cycles,” Chiyoto could tell Rafal meant a lot to his steward – that Dalis was loyal to the core of both his and Mischief’s being, “Because so many in the Empire fear him and his beast, we are afraid our Lord has been a very unhappy and lonely male.”

  Chiyoto’s frown fell from her face and the playfulness left her eyes, only to be replaced with a seriousness and almost regal air about her. She reached out and touched Dalis’ shoulder.

  “You both love him very much, do you not?”

  Dalis chuckled at the thought of Mischief loving Rafal – that was something at which to chuckle, yes? But then he sighed as he turned back to his task at hand – almost an attempt to mentally shrug off the gravity of the turn their conversation had taken.

  “We have served Crowned Prince Rafal since before he departed that Makers-forsaken palace, Hanımefendi, and we will do so until the Makers call us home,” Dalis paused and took another deep breath, “He has done more to heal this Empire than most will probably ever know,”

  For a moment Dalis seemed lost in another world, but then he glanced up at Chiyoto again, “And when he calls you his shioliah, please understand that he absolutely means everything that the word implies … the Prime Magistrate has truly smiled more since he met you than he has over the past ten or fifteen cycles or more.”

  Chiyoto just stared at Dalis for a few moments – so much he had said yet not said in those few sentences – so much depth revealed yet still hidden about her Rafal.

  And Runa sat silent.

  But just as Chiyoto took a breath to ask the intense steward a few more probing question, he beat her to the punch.

  “So, we would guess that you will be taking that stroll together about the shuttle before your dinner soon?”

  Chiyoto lost her train of thought … dinner? Soon? She cocked her head in question, noting that Dalis grinned in amusement at the action.

  “What about lunch, Dalis,” she could not help but return his almost paternal grin, “Does not Rafal have more work to …”

  Dalis lifted his shirt and glanced at their chronometer.

  “Oh, no, Hanimefendi,” Dalis grinned and went back to cutting, “It is nearly khamsa hur.”

  Chiyoto gasped and gripped the countertop in unfeigned shock.

  “You mean I slept the whole day?”

  Her mouth hung open as Dalis took the opportunity to gaze at the simple piece of jewelry she wore on the hand gripping the countertop. His eyes transfixed, his almost shaky hand was drawn toward it until Chiyoto realized his fascination and withdrew her hand abruptly, “I cannot believe …”

  Chiyoto did not even wait for a reply before turning away and heading back to the sitting area – leaving Dalis to smile heartily to himself as he stared after her in wonder – that piece of jewelry now firmly and clearly pictured in his and Mischief’s eidetic memory.

  Practically the same one that was in Mischief’s favorite painting …

  How did she know Mischief’s name?

  It was a question that should have troubled Dalis, but, for some reason, he felt oddly at peace about this female.

  She called us ‘gentle one’ – how … comforting. Was that another facet of her ‘proper and impeccable’?

  But then Dalis froze. She had also called him ‘faithful one’ both just now and earlier this morning before they had gotten acquainted while she ate.

  And ate and ate.

  Dalis chuckled again at the memory – the monger’s lack of focus having taken hold in this case. Back to the thought at hand … this Chiyoto was indeed so very proper and even innocent in so many ways … and yet she felt comfortable with and obviously had feelings for Rafal – strange that issues and incongruities that really should be eating at him, frankly just did not seem to do so with respect to this female.

  Was there more to Rafal’s mate than just the fact that she was Yasak …?

  He would get Mischief’s take on the subject when he awoke – even with his conspiracy tendencies, the monger was great at puzzling out scenarios.

  Right now, though, Dalis needed to get the breakfast meat pastries made for the three of them – the Prime Magistrate had made it very clear as he had watched her sleeping earlier that his shioliah would spend no more nights away from him.

  Rafal felt his beast roar with lust as they watched Chiyoto’s ample hips sway away from them – his body practically mourning the loss of her heat against them. And when she turned back one last time before turning out into the passageway to give him that little smile, Rafal’s entire being came to a clear and firm realization: this game of Runa’s was not a game to him or to his beast – they would not lose Chiyoto.

  Period.

  His vision strayed to the ages-old painting or replica thereof enclosed in the casing on the wall. There proudly stood one of his ancestors – an emperor not a khedive, as was evidenced by the open clothing on his upper body that revealed the strange body-tattoo that all emperors had worn covering what seemed like his entire torso, all down his arms, and over his shoulders – the emperor’s distinctive black curly hair and black beard a contrast against the rich purple of the long vest and bright almost haunting greens and bl
ues of the elaborate tattoo. The emperor stood in relief in front of a faint but no less imposing facial image of an extremely beautiful Dragon Empress – her impressive magenta eyes, those battle-ready dragon features highlighted with those daunting rows of teeth, and her deep magenta crown that faded into the nothingness of the painting’s border. Rafal had often wondered why the Khedive line – murderers as they were – had abandoned the application of the tattoo. Rafal’s conclusion had been that the Sadids had been too cowardly to undergo the procedure – for the tattoo would have to have been extremely deep to endure throughout a lifetime of presentations between beast and cognate – as such, its application would have to be extremely painful.

  A slight chuckle escaped through Rafal’s thoughts, “. . . but you were mated for nearly two centuries to a powerful Dragoness – courage and strength were not a problem for you, were they?”

  Mated.

  The word alone made Rafal ache for his Chiyoto against him again – his beast growling in unison with his thoughts.

  But then the beast’s anger and unrest began to rise – just as it did every time Rafal found himself lost in wonderments of that by-gone era – but unlike those other times, Rafal tried for the first time to discern the root of the beast’s animosity. Why would thoughts of a long-dead empire . . . ?

  The kahrolasi empire did not die, only its light was extinguished.

  Rafal nearly startled at the sound of his beast’s voice that he was only just coming to recognize –especially since it was, if only momentarily, accompanied by a rush of sadness that dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared.

  But before he could respond to his beast’s outburst, his Chiyoto rushed through the doorway, her sudden presence a warming if unexpected surprise.

  Rafal felt his beast roar and lurch inside of him, pushing him all the faster to rise and walk to her as she spoke almost breathlessly.

  “Rafal! You let us sleep the entire day away!”

  Her prince reached his flustered but no less beautiful female about the time she finished her last anxious word.

  And he unceremoniously swept her off her feet against him, engulfing her entire body in his arms as her legs hung in complete surprise off the floor. He buried his face in her neck as he held her tightly to him – both he and his beast literally purring in contentment.

  “And my only regret is that you were not in our arms the entire time.”

  Chiyoto had already taken a breath to fuss some more about the wasted time, but what could she say in reply to … to … this? For as far back as she could remember, Chiyoto had never simply been held. Sure, Mamere had comforted her when she had been hurt as a child, but there had always been a distance between the two of them Chiyoto could never quite discern. And all the lessons Mamere had taught her were of hiding and of a calm and submissive demeanor. And, finally, after Runa’s first presence – all of the Dragoness’ skin and armor still an almost colorless menagerie of beautiful designs that sang of her power to come – Mamere had sent them to Haven with only each other for companionship. And, as comforting as her altre was to her most of the time, Runa could never, ever even hope to hold Chiyoto like this.

  And Chiyoto’s entire being liked it – liked it a lot – even craved this feeling of security.

  Of being needed.

  Of belonging.

  Of simply being held.

  “He absolutely means everything that the word implies.” Dalis’ words echoed through Chiyoto’s mind.

  She simply let a longing breath escape through the persistent smile that adorned her whole face as she timidly wrapped her legs around her Rafal and nestled her compact yet voluptuous body against his larger much warmer one – her actions increasing the purring from within Rafal.

  Rafal ran his hand up under her shirt into her mane and grabbed hold – his embrace never faltering through the action.

  “But it is a regret I plan to never experience again, shioliah.”

  Chiyoto hardly heard the second statement. For the first time since leaving Haven, both she and Runa were at peace – the vibratory sounds of Rafal’s beast for some reason calming even her restless dragoness altre who had, just moments ago, been troubled about Rafal’s confessed ability to “feel” them.

  And, for those blessed quiet moments, the two/four of them simply were.

  And Rafal could not have been more content.

  Or more curious.

  The sound that emanated from inside of him was like none he had ever heard or experienced – it was practically inexplicable in origin except for the knowledge that it definitely came from his beast. But, whatever the sound was, it seemed to have an odd, calming effect on Chiyoto – or was it on Runa so that Chiyoto finally relaxed? – such that his female actually wrapped her legs around him and clung to him with her whole body – her sweet sighs sweeping over his neck and shoulder.

  “Mine,” thought Rafal as a strong and possessive emotion gripped his chest.

  “I do not think I will be able to leave him, Runa,” Chiyoto silently confessed as she inhaled the heated male that had become to mean so much to her in so short a time.

  But her usually contentious altre was obviously not listening because that usually contentious dragoness had no objection – vocal or otherwise. No, it seemed the powerful Runa was lost in her own serenity elsewhere as Rafal continued to hold his Chiyoto against him.

  And his beast continued its song to the hidden female he had re-claimed as his own upon their first meeting two nights ago.

  My beautiful light.

  Chapter 18

  She was there.

  Just on the other side of the veil.

  He could sense her, and, for the second time in as many days, he could almost hear her breathing – her scent heady and intoxicating and oh. So. His.

  She was not yet enthroned – her predecessor must still live – just as when they two had fallen the first time.

  But, unlike the first time, she was not timid or self-effacing – no, that much he could sense. She was passionate even irascible, and she radiated an unreleased power so great that it penetrated the veil and even prickled his extremely tough outer skin – and it made him want her all the more.

  Need her like never before.

  He could only imagine her beauty – the iridescence of her skin – the intricacies of the designs that would be displayed thereon – the long, silkiness of her magenta mane and the matching jewel-tones of her eyes that would define her regal face.

  For too long he had waited – the incomprehensible centuries since they were both the victims of a murderous Sadid hung on his heart like a millstone.

  His death through the beheading of his cognate, Hamako’s Guard Captain, had been swift. And, though his mortal life had been extinguished and his heart crushed as he watched the horror in her cognate’s eyes, at least he had not suffered the pain of watching his mate die.

  As she had on that fateful day.

  As she had been forced to relive every passing and rejoining from Empress to Heiress.

  Because she had not entered with him into the eternal realm even though her cognate had been extinguished shortly after his passing that same day.

  The day the Light had gone out of the Empire.

  The day that marked the beginning of the Sadid Darkness.

  The day the Speciatic Cleansing had begun.

  The day that should have spelled the end of the Blood-bornes.

  But her twin had been so well-hidden that not even she or her cognate had known of its existence – and, instead of an eternal union with his mate, he had been forced to watch from the beyond the death of millions of Blood-bornes – watched them still to the present.

  Although his Rafal worked toward an end to the madness.

  But every death added to the pain inside of him that would not die – would never be soot
hed without her touch – a pain that cried for vengeance as well as healing.

  A pain that his beautiful female just out of reach would suffer ten-fold upon the passing of the Empress that lived now in the shadows.

  Hidden.

  Cowering.

  Simply waiting for death.

  But this female, his female, would never cower nor hide – her steadfast will and steely nerve were evident even through the on-going conflict he sensed between her and her cognate. No, his female would initially be crushed and then she would be ravenous for retribution. For an Empress was Empress to all – Blood-borne and Crimson alike – and her people’s pain as well as their hatred over the centuries would be felt inside of her – down to her very eternal soul. The blood of the enthroned may run clear, but her veins and her very delectable skin irridesced the greens and the reds of her peoples’ life force.

  And justice for her people was borne on both her breath and her talons.

  He breathed deeply with his cognate – the beat of Rafal’s heart in time with his own – the scent of their mate infiltrating all that they were as both dual entity and complete being.

  Even though he and Rafal had no true connection as of yet.

  But they would – as mate to an Empress – as Emperor to all of Bohrea Cardinal – that connection and their physical strength were an imperative.

  And, as he warbled his gruff yet soothing melody to his female – could almost feel her responsive throaty purr vibrate against him even through the veil – he knew she did not understand her reaction to them now.

  Not while all she knew and had ever known was to protect her Chiyoto.

  Not until the current Empress passed, and she was enthroned.

  Not until the rage and injustice that was the current state of the Empire infused her very marrow.

  More so than it already had.

  And he vowed to all the Gods and Makers that he would be there to hold her – to quell her potent and seemingly unquenchable anger that he knew would come – to show his powerful female there was a way to healing.