Empress Hiding

by Y. M. Roger

You put the book away, my Yearlan.

  Shadow’s voice seemed very subdued this morning – the lechtneu’s jovial attitude and interest in just about anything – focused solely on hantungs as of late – still definitely missing in his inquiry in the form of a statement. But at least it was some interaction and, for it, Yearlan was grateful – it was not like his Shadow to be as quiet and withdrawn as he had up until now this morning. At least it had not happened since their arrival here in the Southern Provinces – his Shadow had certainly come so far since then.

  And Yearlan would be damned if he let his Shadow be intimidated again.

  The elder steward had already showered and made sure Erol and Matin were awake and dressed and was currently straightening the eating area after the twins’ energetic breakfast.

  “I did, my friend,” Yearlan sighed as he tried with great effort to tamp down his own negative emotions regarding the incident last night – he did not want Shadow to blame himself as would be the lechtneu’s first reaction, “I do not wish for you to be hurt again.”

  Yearlan unconsciously reached up and touched the large bruise and laceration on his own forehead as he whispered to Shadow – the marred area still quite tender to the touch.

  Shadow sighed long and low inside of him as Yearlan stared out the large, picture window that overlooked the training grounds. There, Unisha and his Somdech sparred in the pre-dawn light filtering slowly through the sky.

  Perhaps it was a misunderstanding – even you had said before that you thought they were our …

  “Yearlan? Are you sure you really tripped?” Erol’s young little handsome face looked up at him – his small hand holding Yearlan’s wrist – just as the steward lowered his hand from his forehead. Yes, Erol might look like a miniature of his sire with that black hair and those black eyes, but he had his mamè’s instincts, “It just feels like … like … you might be hurt here, too.”

  Erol’s other hand found the area between his own two hearts.

  Yearlan took a breath to answer him when Matin materialized on his other side – piercing blue eyes heralding the almost ominous growl that rolled up from within his tiny body.

  “Did someone hurt you, Yearlan?” And there – on the spitting image of Erol except in blonde – was Hondo’s possessive and, yes, aggressive nature on full display, “Just tell us who, and Erol and I will grab a Guard or two, and we will teach them not to do it anymore.”

  Oh, dear, my Yearlan – what do we do when they get older and wiser?

  Yearlan smiled at his Shadow’s insight and was about to answer Matin when Erol continued, his shining eyes narrowing thoughtfully and almost threateningly to slits as his mind worked overtime – his squinted gaze focused directly on Yearlan’s face as the steward tried to keep his features as ‘neutral’ as possible.

  “Wait … what if it was one of the guards?” It was Erol’s turn to growl, “They would have been the only ones up during the night if Shadow went out,” Erol looked to Matin and then back up at Yearlan, “Was it, Yearlan? Was it one of our guards?”

  Matin did not miss a beat as he, too, now stared intently at Yearlan’s face – he continued once again before Yearlan could get a word in edgewise.

  “It was a guard! Grrrrrrrr!” Matin’s little face scrunched up into a seriously threatening visage even at his age with that deep little growl, “And I bet it was that big female, Chostah, with her snarly pahlgryst – she does not like the way Unisha looks at you, you know? We heard them arguing about you the other day.”

  Yearlan stopped trying to interrupt them and thought momentarily about the Chostah thing – where had that come from? He grimaced – still staring out the window – at simply the thought of being near the respectful-as-could-be but not-so-attractive and quite lemak Red Guard who hailed from the Prime Magistrate’s demesne – Yearlan stifled a shiver that ran from deep within his Shadow.

  Pahlgrysts are utterly terrifying looking, my Yearlan – did you know she even noticed us? Please tell me Chostah is not the reason you no longer wish to discuss …

  Yearlan felt as though he was dealing with three youths instead of two – Shadow being just as distracted or distracting as the twins. He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. He would prefer every one of them just completely drop the entire subject of females.

  “Oh, by the Makers!” Yearlan raised his voice way beyond that to which the twins were accustomed as he turned away from the window to finish his cleaning, “I am not interested in Chostah, and I simply ran into the door frame this morning!”

  I am so sorry, my Yearlan – I am hurting, too. Shadow tried to soothe and comfort his cognate as he felt Yearlan’s pain run through his very being.

  Taken aback at their Yearlan’s quite unexpected outburst that was so very out of character for him, Erol and Matin initially froze. But then, slowly, Erol turned to Matin who, again, narrowed his gaze at his brother even as he voiced his questioning statement Yearlan.

  “But you said you tripped.”

  Yearlan’s entire body sighed this time as he tried to keep his voice level although he was not sure how successful he was.

  “Yes, Matin, I tripped and, as a result, I ran into the door frame,” the steward put the tray of dishes down to bend over and pick up the two utensils that had fallen as he added quite low and under his breath in a very sardonic huff, “We non-predators tend to do very stupid things.” But he continued out loud to the twins with an almost forced cheerful tone to his voice, “Now, you two go put on your shoes, and we will go see what there is to explore near the mud hole today.”

  Yearlan walked into the kitchen and Erol and Matin immediately went to the window to see what it was Yearlan had been looking at so very intently earlier. A knowing look passed between the two of them as the only sight out there was the Red Guard Unisha and their Mamé.

  “No sparring today, Yearlan?”

  They were staring at each other with rapt determination now as they waited intently for his response.

  “No, I think we will take a break from that today” – Erol and Matin looked one last time at the training grounds below as they nodded their heads at each other grinning from ear to ear at their Yearlan’s response – “Now, run along you two,” Yearlan continued from the kitchen, “I will be right behind you.”

  The two young males were already headed out the door.

  Shelvana and Unisha circled each other – zipkins spinning and rocking as they took in each other’s technique and apparent tactics on this early morning. Sweat already glistened off each of the females as the morning star began to peek above the mountains in the distance – the day promising more of the same heat that seemed to be above the norm for the Southern Provinces this time during the cycle.

  Unisha sported a long slice along the bicep of her right arm – the emerald blood making interesting trails down her arm as she fought as though not injured at all.

  The approaching pounding of four little feet brought them both up short as Shelvana turned toward her sons – Yearlan’s approach from the main house in the distance was much more measured.

  Practically tackling their mamé with their enthusiasm Shelvana found herself enveloped in her sons as Unisha smiled at the two at first, but quickly lost her grin with Yearlan’s approach as she turned to wipe the sweat from her brow and dab some of the blood that had run into the crease of her elbow.

  As Unisha glanced toward Yearlan walking in her direction again, she could tell he was solely focused on the Somdech, probably by design to avoid having to recognize her. But, oh!, he looked so damn handsome this morning – probably did not help that she had gotten a gorgeous view of his heavenly body in that debacle last night, but, still …

  Wow.

  I know I said that I would say nothing else on the matter, sevgilim, but perhaps you should …

  “Shut up!” Unisha seethed to her altre under
her breath as she threw some water into her mouth and wiped it over her face and neck – she still had little to no patience for Tempt this morning.

  Tempt huffed in silent rebuff of the reprimand.

  You cannot keep ignoring me forever, sevgilim.

  But Unisha did just that – she ignored her contentious altre as she tried to smile at the twins. She chanced a cautionary glance at Yearlan – her Yearlan! – and noticed the bruising on his head. She immediately looked away – feeling the pain of guilt and anger toward Tempt come sizzling back in all of its glory.

  Not that she had anything to worry about when it came to Yearlan’s eyes catching hers – it was obvious in the steward’s approaching body language that he was adamantly avoiding any contact whatsoever – visual or otherwise.

  The twins seemed quite excited about something this morning, and Unisha tried to busy herself with examining and adjusting her zipkin as Shelvana spoke with them and Yearlan arrived.

  Yearlan bowed to Shelvana upon her rising from greeting and conversing with Erol and Matin, and the first question from her Somdech’s mouth was enough to send a chill up her back and make her breath catch in her chest.

  “Yearlan?”

  Calm as always, “Yes, Somdech?”

  “Did one of the guards cause that injury?”

  Unisha turned slowly to find not Yearlan’s eyes staring intently at her, but four much smaller and much harsher eyes that would have shot daggars at her if such were possible. Internally, Unisha cursed Tempt from one end of this realm to the other side of godsfall.

  Forever the diplomat and second only to Captain Marid in service to the house of Hondo Sadid – and, therefore, able to remain calm with the best of them – Yearlan simply shrugged and gave Shelvana a sideways grin as he respectfully acknowledged her question.

  “As I explained to the twins,” Shelvana stepped toward the steward to reach toward his forehead, “This was simply an accidental collision with a doorframe, Denka.”

  Yearlan flinched just slightly away from Shelvana’s touch as Unisha tried desperately to mask Tempt’s threatening growl with a fake couple of sneezes – the hantung may have messed up last night, but that did not change the fact that he did not like another powerful predator, male or female, near his perceived mate.

  Oh, my Yearlan, do you think they are alright? Shadow reacted to Unisha’s sneezing. Maybe they are getting sick and need …

  Yearlan – who completely missed Tempt’s growl and was concentrating solely on keeping himself formally composed at the moment – saw a light of what could best be described as mischief appear in his Somdech’s eyes as he internally chastised his Shadow for his ridiculous worry.

  The hantung was certainly feeling just fine last night when he had humiliated them.

  Yearlan cocked his head only slightly in question at Shelvana as she stepped back with a genuine grin slowly peeling across her wild yet beautiful features – she touched each of her sons on a cheek.

  Shadow sighed in self-pity again – the hantung’s scent called to both his heart and his body. And he knew his Yearlan felt the same with respect to Unisha – he could feel it run through his cognate’s being even with his Yearlan’s sharp words and thoughts to the contrary.

  Do you really believe humiliation was what he …

  Yearlan growled low at his Shadow to silence his sniveling – they did not need what Unisha and her altre were selling.

  They would never again be the brunt of any predator guard’s lust for a taste of fear.

  But they are not those Perse Guards from the pala …

  Yearlan practically screamed inside his own head as he fought to keep an even visage on his face.

  “You see, my yakisik adams,” Shelvana had heard Tempt’s growl before and Yearlan’s just then – and she knew from the look on her young Matin’s face, so had her sons, “Yearlan is fine.”

  Shelvana also felt the waves of protectiveness and lust rolling against her backside – the Somdech may not know the whole story here, but there was definitely something two of her most cherished friends needed to work out.

  Wait, did the marabilla have friends? Yes, perhaps she did. And that made her smile even broader.

  “Now, we are going to check on Amca Kilgar,” Shelvana handed her zipkin to Yearlan – his face still a bit unsure of her actions, “As he should be up and around this morning. Please make sure that this is stored properly for me, Yearlan, and we will see you later this morning.”

  Shelvana took a small hand in each of hers and the three of them brushed past Yearlan on their way back to the main house – the twins taking time to smile up at their Yearlan and tell him they would see him soon.

  Erol even gave him an innocent little wave as he passed.

  Yearlan, still not sure of what had just transpired, sighed and slightly shook his head – there was simply too much emotional saçmalik to deal with right now. However, he still managed to completely avoid looking at Unisha as he made his way toward large competition complex to fulfill his Somdech’s out-of-the-ordinary request.

  Unisha tried to catch up to him, but he purposefully kept his strides long and rapid.

  “Yearlan, wait. We can walk together – we need to talk.”

  Yearlan did not slow his pace in the least despite the alpha-like command that clearly sounded in her voice – a tone for which Yearlan would never have patience from a kahrolasi guard.

  “We have nothing about which to talk, hanfendi,” his voice was sharp and clipped – simply last night’s image of becoming present with her standing over him, her arousal perfuming the air, began to stoke the fire of anger and humiliation inside of him all over again.

  He needed the female Red Guard to get away from them.

  Now.

  Yearlan did not even hold the door for her as they entered the complex – never again would he or Shadow be at the mercy of any guard.

  He heard her growl of aggravation as he continued down the passageway that lead to the huge arena – good. Maybe she would get the message and back the godsfall off.

  “Yearlan, please,” simply the sound of a voice that used to make him rock hard but now only fueled an anger he thought was long-forgotten was now pushing his control limits, “You must listen to my explanation as to what really hap …”

  Yearlan yanked open the doors to the arena – a few small groups of guards sparred while a much larger group played a very involved game of utuzak. No one seemed to even notice their entrance.

  Good – friendly and sociable was not something he was feeling right now.

  His jaw flinched as he heard Unisha’s feminine sigh of exasperation – in another lifetime, he was sure that nearly seductive sound would have made him want to take her and damn the crowds, but, after last night …

  No, Yearlan must not do one damn thing – listen or otherwise – for a kahrolasi guard that found pleasure in …

  No, my Yearlan, I am quite sure they do not mean to threaten us. I do not feel …

  Shadow felt Yearlan’s anger reach levels it had not since cycles before their departure from Tristanin – the lechtneu quieted and huddled quietly in his absence.

  Yearlan always looked out for him – Shadow knew that was the truth – and he had to trust his cognate on this one as well.

  Even though they were both hurting inside.

  “Nothing to explain, Guard,” Yearlan’s spoke through clenched teeth as he tried to quicken his pace toward the wall where the sparring weapons were stowed, “Just. Let. It. Go.”

  But Unisha needed so badly to touch him – to soothe him – to let him know just how much she already felt for him that there was no way she was going to let this go. Her Yearlan had the whole thing wrong – she and he were supposed to be together. Did he not feel that?

  Unisha finally got close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, �
�No, Yearlan, I will not let it go!” She began to pull him in the direction of turning around to face her, “You have to …”

  That command was the final straw – Yearlan snapped.

  The older male rounded on Unisha – zipkin ready and spinning as she had never seen in combat before – had never even imagined possible. Unisha reacted purely on self-preservation instincts as she immediately brought her zipkin from carry position to block Yearlan’s attack. She had barely managed to fend off the countless assaults from above and at least five or more from below when her feet were swept out from under her, and she felt the hard yet somewhat padded blow of the sparring mat beneath her prone body. But before she narrowly had enough time to raise the long handle to protect herself and assess her situation – the weapon was ripped from her hands with the crook on one end of Yearlan’s blades as the other end thrust into the sparring mat just a hairsbreadth from her ear.

  The entire arena had fallen silent – most getting their first glimpse as to why Yearlan held the high place in Hondo’s household that he did. The combat display had been impressive.

  Beyond impressive, actually.

  And quite deadly.

  Yearlan paid no mind to any of the spectators as he placed one boot in the middle of Unisha’s chest – the toe aimed at the place that would cause a serious hemorrhage between her two hearts – although no real weight was placed on it.

  It was simply a statement.

  He bent his other knee just slightly to lean in close – his nostrils purposefully flaring in an exaggerated manner – and whispered under his breath so that only she could hear him.

  “What? No arousal, hanfendi?” Unisha did not think the sneer on Yearlan’s face could have been any more hateful as an angry light flashed in his beautiful eyes, “Guess you need blood to flip that particular switch, heh? Predator?”

  The final word was spat in a derisiveness that Unisha could feel down to her core. And even though she had not had the time to think much less truly react, Tempt bristled at Yearlan’s implication.

  Oh, sevgilim, none of the predators on the Guard would ever …