Empress Hiding

by Y. M. Roger

  Mysstree was referring to the manner in which someone would walk her around a room and talk her through reaching out and touching everything in the room so that she had a mental layout of her surroundings in which to function – she did better in the long run if Miannmarr could have a visual tour, but, when they had discussed this over breakfast, they had decided not to disturb Kilgar’s demercriere with the tempting prey that the nestlinger would certainly present.

  Balstir quietly opened the door to Kilgar’s room and led Mysstree in with him, halting her just inside so that he could re-latch the door.

  When, suddenly, Mysstree almost silently sucked in a sharp breath and put her hands over her mouth.

  Balstir glanced at Kilgar to find him still sound asleep – the sound-proof padding around his ears obviously doing their job since her breath did not rouse him in the least. Then he turned and looked at his sister who stood unmoving – her unseeing eyes transfixed in the direction of the sleeping Kilgar – her hand still frozen over her mouth.

  Balstir frowned in confusion as he waved his hand in front of her vision causing Mysstree to swat unsuccessfully at it. Still unsure what to think, Balstir cupped the side of her face to bring her ear to his mouth and whispered worriedly in her ear.

  “What is the matter, hediya?”

  She reached up and placed her hand on Balstir’s cheek – her shocking chartreuse eyes never leaving Kilgar’s direction – and barely whispered.

  “We can see him, kardesh,” she began to ever so slightly tremble beside him, “Captain Kilgar Marid is …”

  Balstir chuckled as he pulled her forward to place his lips lovingly on her forehead.

  “I should have known,” he released her head and tugged her hand to start her on her touch tour, “Captain Marid’s strong personality is visible even as he sleeps. He will grow on you, I promise.”

  Balstir chuckled again and shook his head in comedic disbelief as he placed Mysstree’s hand along the wall and began to speak low and very descriptively about everything in their path.

  Mysstree tried to focus on Balstir’s words – she tried more than she should have to do for such a simple task that was second nature to her life. But all Mysstree could do was to stare toward the bed at a face on which she had no trouble focusing: the motley blondes and browns of his hair – the handsome smoothness of his deep-colored, star-kissed face – the distinctive high cheekbones – the almost inviting lips that looked commanding even in sleep. Even his hands that protruded from the makeshift braces were alluring to her curious and, yes, feminine perception.

  Her brother did not understand – Mysstree could really see the male that was asleep in the bed.

  But she and Miannmarr decided to keep that a secret for now … because what if the male did not approve of his chambers they had prepared? What if he did not choose them?

  Oh, Makers! This could be the end of our time here in the Southern Provinces, yes? Or even worse, Captain Marid is a soldier and he is obviously much older than we; what if he has already chosen another and decides to …

  Mysstree swallowed hard as Miannmarr’s thoughts ran through her mind as well – they had both known that sometime, somehow this day would come – although her altre seemed to take the revelation a lot less traumatically.

  Beautiful! That does not really happen in the world of cognate-altre …

  But Mysstree did not even hear Miannmarr’s reassuring statement. She glanced at Balstir and thought of mamé and paté whom they loved more than they could put into words. Mysstree tried to prepare herself for the real possibility that life as they knew it might all end so soon.

  Miannmarr sighed – she would try to reason with her beautiful yet quite obsessive cognate when she had calmed herself somewhat.

  This was going to be a much more trying assignment than either of them had envisioned.

  Unisha and Shelvana circled each other slowly on the sparring mat – the sheathed zipkins they both expertly handled as they lithely danced spun and jerked almost constantly in their grip – the crack of handle-on-handle or end-to-end periodically splitting the air. Unlike other females in the Royal court or even like other females in general, this was a much more relaxing manner for Shelvana to interface with her new-found friend. Oh, they may eventually sit and discuss things, but most of their interactions were here on the training mats or out for an exhilarating run inside the compound or even grueling passes on the soldier obstacle training course. These were the activities that Shelvana craved and Unisha gladly obliged – each interaction made the female Red Guard feel more comfortable with her beloved Somdech.

  She and Shelvana shared a common bond: rare cognates with even rarer altres (even though the marabilla distinguished not between her own two forms) – and their personalities had clicked almost immediately. Neither of them were females that liked to speak much although Shelvana had taken the time to find out about Unisha’s family – apparently, to the marabilla, the whole concept of family was something that she was just beginning to understand: marabillas were very rare, never knew their parents, and practically raised themselves in the depths of the as-yet-to-be completely mapped forests of the Southern Provinces.

  Whether true creature born to the creature world or Bohrean citizen with cognate/altre form.

  Her and Hondo’s meeting and mating was one that could have never been foreseen, and there was certainly no precedent for it.

  Anywhere.

  As such, Shelvana tried to learn all that she could about functioning family units and what could or may be expected of her. It was also the reason she would always be so very thankful for Yearlan’s direction and unbidden assistance since her arrival and always.

  But now Shelvana actually had a female compatriot, and she was finding that she truly and completely enjoyed their interaction time. Of course, the bond the marabilla felt so new between her and Unisha – and the beautiful and, surprisingly, male hantung, Tempt, she fostered – was no where near as brilliant and as binding as the tie between her and her Prince Hondo. But the marabilla would expect nothing else: Hondo with his powerful wartrige was the life that breathed inside of them, and they always would be.

  But then the thought of Unisha or Tempt being executed made Shelvana’s blood pressure rise – for such would have been their fate had the female guard been born in the Northern Provinces … especially Tristanin … where the Khedive resided. The marabilla felt her skin ripple with an ire of rage and disgust. Just the thought of the vile creature that would dare attempt harm on her offspring or a Crimson execution squad anywhere near her new friend set her desire to end her Hondo’s sire aflame once again.

  But, the marabilla reminded herself, her Prince had given his word that his sire would soon die, and she breathed a deep cleansing breath.

  The marabilla let her hauntingly blue eyes drift over to glance at her sons enjoying a match of their own and grinned in amiable challenge as her focus returned to lunge at Unisha.

  Her Hondo and his magnificent wartrige always kept their word.

  Off to the far side of the mat, Erol and Matin imitated their mamé’s moves – their weapons simple sticks that were longer than the twins were tall. Yearlan stood watching the boys, interjecting advice and intervening when things got a bit intense between the two. It was that dominant male sibling competition thing again, but Yearlan smiled inwardly with pride – he and Shadow were so very proud of them! Some of the more aggressive growls that emanated from the young males’ little bodies did cause his docile Shadow to hesitate every now and again, but the fact that the twins had a good six to eight cycles before their animals would present themselves gave the steward and his altre enough confidence to continue.

  And, the Makers knew, they had both a strong mamé and strong paté to deal with the predators’ presences when that time arrived.

  However, Yearlan did encourage the twins – and neither Ho
ndo nor Shelvana had indicated he should do otherwise – to slowly get to know their animals so that the transition would not be such a shock when the animal finally presented itself. They were the same lessons and exercises that his parents had taught him as a youngster, and he hoped it would help the obviously strong-willed males to have an uncontentious and, perhaps, not-so-turbulent relationship with their aggressive ‘beasts’ once presentation occurred. He would not pretend to hope for peaceful as such a relationship should never exist between a cognate and its animal. Yearlan supposed such did not exist by design as ‘peaceful’ was actually the complete dominance of one over the other, and such a relationship could never be healthy … for either the cognate or the alter-being. No, there should always been some conflict, some give and take, some trust with questionings, some introspection and protectiveness – such is what made Bohreans unique in the ever-expanding universe.

  Without warning, the twins’ measured thrusts and parries deteriorated quite rapidly into chaotic jabs and overhead whippings complete with frustrated grunts and snarls as it seemed each had somehow decided to pound the other out of existence.

  Or so it seemed to Yearlan as he calmly grabbed hold of each of the sticks – taking a few hits himself in the process – to try to get their apparent disagreement under control. However, just as soon as he was able to gain control of the weapons and extricate them from the young males’ hands, Erol dove at Matin – or perhaps it was Matin that did the diving at Erol – and they fell to the mat in a full-body wrestling hold on each other. As their little bodies writhed and twisted amidst both their and their beasts strainings and gruntings and even hollers and snarls – their hands and feet both working double time to get the advantage over and pin the other – Yearlan coolly walked over and placed the sticks in their proper bin near the wall and then walked back to the squirming mass of young males on the mat.

  Soon, he would be unable to accomplish what he was about to do – what he did on an almost daily basis – but that day was still a few cycles into the future.

  Yearlan placed himself at the ‘front’ of the tangled ball of flesh and hair and the few pieces of clothing that had not yet been ripped off and – letting his Shadow sound forth a loud bark to get their attentions and startle them into releasing the other – grabbed a firm hold of each of the male’s napes to include the lower portion of their hairlines.

  And dragged them to their feet – one standing on either side of him – as they continued to try to periodically lunge at each other either in front of or behind the firm-holding steward.

  Still grinning inwardly at their strength and tenacity, Yearlan called to Shelvana.

  “Somdech!”

  Unisha and Shelvana stopped and looked in his direction.

  “Hanımefendi,” Yearlan used the proper title of respect in front of Unisha although he wondered if his Somdech even realized, even after seven years, what would be proper or not – the thought, once again, causing him to grin inwardly at his ‘family’, “The young Masters and I are going to have an early lunch and, perhaps, a good, long run around the compound.”

  Yearlan bowed informally but obviously to her as she lowered her zipkin and approached. Yearlan noticed that Unisha tried to keep from smiling at the young males as well. Yearlan was beginning to realize that he liked the female Red Guard – probably more than he was willing to admit at his age – and Makers knew that his Shadow did.

  But Unisha was not of concern at present – Yearlan breathed deeply.

  I believe they should always be of concern for us, my Yearlan. Do you not feel it, too?

  And the lechtneu huffed in feigned aggravation as Yearlan did his best to ignore his altre – waves of what could only be described as lust running like an undercurrent to the lechtneu’s comments.

  Not that Yearlan did not share in his altre’s desires – it simply could probably never be.

  Can we at least get near them, handsome – perhaps offer to cook them a meal. I realize they are predator dominant, but …

  Yearlan smiled inwardly at Shadow’s trepidatious sigh and tried to reassure his altre as his face remained as unemotional as possible as he faced his Somdech.

  Shelvana did not smile as she stood over her sons – although Yearlan could clearly see the laughter and pride in those unique cerulean eyes of hers.

  It did not take long for something else to push Matin to growl at Erol who, in turn, snarled as he swiped at his blonde-haired brother. Which, of course, elicited a provocative bark from Matin as he lunged to grab a handful of Erol’s wavy, black locks.

  Shelvana growled threateningly and bared her descended fangs at her sons who immediately stood tall on either side of Yearlan, their heads bowed and tilted sideways in a very submissive posture, a small nearly undetectable whimper sounding from each of them as Shelvana bit back a smile.

  “Look at mamé, my yakisik adams,” she leaned over and brushed her lips across each of their foreheads, “The Prince has gone to Capital City to see the Prime Magistrate which means that you are both the Princes of these provinces for the next few days in his absence.”

  Their little faces lit with wonder and, yes, some mischief at Shelvana’s words. But before Matin could brag again that he was older by some fraction of time and that he alone should be the Prince, Shelvana held up her hand to silence his protest as she continued.

  “And with Amca Kilgar injured, we all need you both to be strong and fulfill that role as expected, yes?”

  They both nodded in understanding – even Matin seeming to understand the fact that having both Hondo and Kilgar out of commission, so to speak, was a big deal.

  “Yes, mamé,” they chimed simultaneously.

  “Now, you both listen to Yearlan and have a good run,” she nipped each of them on an ear and stood, “I will expect you for reading lessons with me this afternoon, yes?”

  The young males nodded eagerly, and Yearlan nodded in deference before he spoke.

  “I was to look in on Captain Marid to make sure Hanfendi Mysstree was here to assume all care duties, Somdech. Would you …”

  Shelvana interrupted him as she brushed his cheek in affection.

  “Unisha and I will do so as soon as we are finished here,” she smiled and raised her zipkin in acknowledgement and motioned back to Unisha who, in turn, acknowledged the request as well, “Do not let them give you a difficult time, Yearlan, or you either, Shadow.”

  She glared at her two sons again who smiled up at their mamé like a couple of meleks from the heavenly realm as Yearlan allowed Shadow to growl his affirmation of her address.

  Unisha felt Tempt try to protest at their Somdech’s touching of the steward – it really made no sense to her.

  They are ours, sevgilim. I cannot wait much longer as just his scent near us keeps me hard. Your wet needs Yearlan’s herif as much as I need his Shadow’s.

  She felt the male hantung’s scaled skin ripple under her own in obvious irritation and need to protect. Unisha paled and tried to keep a straight face at her Tempt’s language – he had always been extremely crude and domineering. And although she was more than strong enough to balance him, their relationship had always been one of dominant to dominant – control with understanding no matter who was present. Yes, she felt that Yearlan and his Shadow were for them, but she hesitated because of both of their stations in the Prince’s household.

  Unisha felt Tempt preen his muscular wings at the “political” reason and could almost picture a face of disbelief at his irritation that flowed through her.

  “Trust me, müthiş bir,” Unisha silently and inwardly chided her altre who promptly responded with a hrumph.

  My herif and I kahrolasi ooze with confidence, sevgilim.

  Unisha had to fight to control her laughter that wanted to erupt, but she managed – she absolutely adored her contentious altre.

  Shelvana snap
ped teasingly at Erol and Matin as Yearlan turned with the young males to exit.

  As soon as the door had shut behind them, Shelvana began to remove the sheathes from both ends of her zipkin as she grinned at her new-found friend.

  “First blood has weapon choice on the morrow.”

  Unisha looked surprised only for a fleeting moment before she almost gleefully removed the sheaths from her own zipkin. She allowed Tempt’s growl of anticipation to sound forth from her throat.

  “Ground rules, my Somdech?”

  Unisha took her ready stance as she asked.

  Shelvana smiled again as she faced Unisha – her blue eyes becoming even more intense as she tilted her head to the side in amusement and let the marabilla’s challenge screech resonate around the empty arena.

  “To draw first blood.”

  Tempt’s howl of attack answered the marabilla’s as Unisha smiled and lunged first at her Somdech as active acknowledgement of the ‘rules’ as stated.

  Tempt could not help but tease his Unisha as the thrill of the competition rushed through them both.

  Exactly what esholeshek was it, again, that was concerned for our Somdech’s safety?

  Chapter 26

  Rafal and his beast sensed Hondo before having stepped out of the transport to assist their stubborn female out as well – his beast growling low at her continued emotional distance combined with the cheerful anticipation of meeting Hondo’s wartrige. The wartrige was one of the few beasts that did not fear him and probably the only one that happily anticipated his presence on any given day.

  Chiyoto tried to step away from the Crowned Prince when she had completely exited the transport – Sila quietly behind her – but Rafal pulled her entire body unexpectedly hard against his own, her breath leaving her in a rushed ‘whoompf’ sound.

  Noticing Jaylis pushing around them, Sila silently and unbidden walked to the other side of Rafal to place himself between the Prime Magistrate’s position and Jaylis’ with the other Black Guards’ exiting the transport. Jaylis growled threateningly at Sila as he pushed past the three – the remaining Black Guards imitating Jaylis with their snarled shouldering of Sila. Hiroto hissed threateningly in return, even though Sila tried to internally calm the winged predator, the chestryl had never had much patience with … well, with just about anything actually. And Jaylis’ actions and the growls from his monsecrit were simply pushing Hiroto’s buttons.