by Genia Avers
She studied him intently before she spoke softly, “But you’re more than willing to make love with me this night?”
He grinned, the playing field again familiar. “I have not yet said my vows.”
“Alas sir, vows or not, I doubt you’d find anyone in Mydrias willing to sleep with another’s fiancé. I, for one, would not disrespect the bride-to-be.”
Kamber squirmed. He felt like a naughty schoolboy, but his lust belonged to a grown man. She leaned against the wall and propped her chin on her hands. “I will confess, I’m curious about you too, prince. Why is this marriage so repugnant to you? Surely a future king doesn’t expect to be able to marry for love?”
The hostile tone no longer coated her lovely voice. He wanted to talk. Nay, he needed to talk. “No, I didn’t expect to marry for love, but I’d hoped. I suppose I’m not ready to give up on the idea.”
“And you suppose Subena’s ready to give up on love?”
He sighed. “I regret to say, I’ve not considered her ideas about this arranged marriage. She is…” He paused, aware he needed to carefully choose his words. “I’ve been told she cares more about her work than about people, but it seems she’ll go to any length to protect Mydrians. Since she engineered this oh-so-brilliant treaty, I supposed she didn’t care about love.”
He expected sympathy. When he glanced at the dancer, he saw clenched fists.
“Maybe, sir, you’re misinformed.”
He nodded his head, still wanting to please the female by his side. “Maybe.”
“It bothers you that our science minister takes her work seriously? I suppose it must bother her that you never work.”
“That’s not true. I—”
“I suppose you would prefer that she spent her time dancing rather than experimenting with new energy sources?”
He turned and placed his back to the stony wall. “It would be nice if she did both.”
“Then you will have no objections if she wants to create more schools in Gatsle?” The dancer wore her smug expression again. It should have put him off but didn’t.
“I don’t care what she does as long as she stays out of my hair.” He realized, too late, that he’d said too much. This female would certainly be well acquainted with the empress’s daughter. Perhaps even a best friend.
Her sarcasm confirmed his fear. “Gee, you’re too kind.”
“Are all people in this culture so outspoken?”
“I like to think we are,” she replied. “In Mydrias, people are encouraged to speak openly—even if they are speaking to royalty.” She glared daggers at him. “Maybe because we believe in equality, we don’t take visiting royalty very seriously here. Tell me, prince, do the people in Gatsle tell you what they really think?”
Instantly he became defensive, unable to stop himself from shuffling his feet again. No female had made him that uncomfortable since his nanny. “I don’t know,” he replied.
“Shouldn’t you know? You’re the future leader.”
He looked directly into her face, a fierce anger rising within him. The battle that waged between his temper and the increasingly painful swelling beneath his lower tunic made rational thought impossible.
“Perhaps,” he snapped, “we Gatslians are not as advanced as your country. Perhaps we care more about living life than analyzing it.”
Unable to stop himself, he grabbed her. Before she could protest, he kissed her deeply on the mouth. It was only when his fury had subsided that he realized she’d responded.
He jerked his head upright, still needing her body against his, but struggling to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I appreciate your time, but I’ll keep you no longer.”
Leaving her her openmouthed, he fled from the garden. He couldn’t afford to let her see the too obvious result of their contact.
Chapter Nine
Subena grabbed a pillow from her bed, covered her mouth, and screamed. She couldn’t believe the prince had actually requested an audience with her. Only because he thought she was someone else.
He’d almost gotten to her when he’d spoken about the beauty inside. For a brief second, she thought he understood her—and she’d hoped. Hoped someone had finally seen beyond the mask required of her station. Hoped she’d found someone who might understand that her heart beat more furiously with just the possibility of love. She’d prayed someone might actually patch the hole created when she couldn’t save her father. Fool that she’d been, she actually believed her future husband might be that someone.
“The nerve of him, looking for a hay-tumble when he’s to marry me in the morning,” she whispered fiercely. “The bloody sod judged me. Without knowing anything about me.”
She ignored the tiny voice that insisted she’d purposely seduced him. Unable to face another rejection, she had to hate him, had to hate the mess her life had become.
Staring out her window into the silent streets, she wanted to strike something but nothing resembled the prince’s head. She poured another glass of wine instead.
Placing a silken pillow on the windowsill, she pounded it, trying to soothe her anger. Thanks to the boorish man she was fated to marry, sleep would be impossible. If only she could think of a way to cancel the wedding yet still obtain the crystals.
The nagging voice issued another reminder, “He said he’d be faithful once he married.”
He lied. Of course he lied. A man didn’t learn to kiss like that by being faithful.
She tried hard to push away the memory of his kiss. For the briefest of moments, she’d submitted and discovered the power of his intoxicating lips. As kisses went, it surpassed anything she’d imagined and she hated herself for that moment of submission. She hated the Gatslian for fanning a flame Taslin could never ignite.
It might’ve been a thing of beauty, except he hadn’t meant the blasted kiss for her. He’d been enamored with his dancing girl. Even that she could’ve accepted, but like everyone else, he’d judged her—in his mind, Subena and the dancing girl could not exist in the same body.
She picked up the pillow and hurled it at the wall. Feeling no better, she downed her wine and poured another glass.
* * * *
At some point, she must’ve fallen asleep because her mother’s voice frightened her into consciousness. “I can’t believe you’re still sleeping. Have you changed your mind? Shall I tell them you’re ill?”
Subena wiped her eyes, trying to remember why she needed to awaken. The empress looked regal in a gown of clingy mauve silk.
Ah crap. Her wedding day. “No, I’ll dress quickly.”
“I’m sorry I failed you,” the empress repeated. “I was so sure that Gatslian whoremonger would want Dilena after she danced, but that blasted girl went straight to her chambers. No one ever listens to me anymore.”
Subena choked and then tried to cover her gaffe with a yawn. The minute her mother left the room, she covered her head with what was left of the pulverized pillow. At least Mydrias would have an abundance of quartz. Maybe if she dozed for just a minute, she could convince herself she’d done the right thing.
Her mother’s shriek brought her back to consciousness. “Subena! You still aren’t dressed? Let’s call off this ridiculous ceremony.”
She blinked. “What time is it?”
“A half-hour after you said you’d get up.” The empress took a hard look at her. “Oh sweetie. Have you been crying?”
“No.”
“But your eyes…”
“Too much wine.”
The empress nodded. “That does it. No wedding day for you.”
Subena shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. “Mother, we need those crystals. I will get married. Please don’t make this day any more difficult than it is.”
The empress did something she rarely did. She stood still for several seconds. “You’re determined to do this?”
Subena started to nod, but remembered the pain it would cause. “Yes.”
The empress
bit at her lip. “You’re like your father, you know that?” Annika turned away and swiped at her eyes. “I’ll find some eye drops.” Her mother rushed from the room.
Subena smiled. Her mother might hate that she was getting married, but there’d be no red eyes in any ceremony planned by Empress Annika.
She crawled into the big tub and let the warm water soothe her tired body. Falling asleep on a windowsill did little for one’s spine. She glimpsed the magnificent dress the empress had hung on her armoire. And closed her eyes.
“Wake up! You’re going to drown.”
Subena jumped, bumping her head on the back of the tub. Bockle. Had she really fallen asleep again? In the tub?
“I understand you didn’t sleep, honey, but unless you want me to call off this farce, you’ll have to act like you’re among the breathing. This may not be the ceremony of our dreams, but we can’t have you looking like someone’s going to chop off your head.”
“The way my head pounds, it feels more like the funeral of my dreams. I may never drink wine again.” She grabbed the towel and covered her chest. “Wait, did you just make a joke?”
The empress had already scurried out of the room. Subena dragged herself into a standing position, every muscle and instinct screaming, “Stay in the tub.” She almost sat back down in the beckoning water, but her crystal caught her eye. The glass shone as brightly as the day the crystal had been created. Most crystals weren’t so perfect.
The day wasn’t about her. It was about the substance that would sustain her people until she could find a better solution.
She dried her body and tugged on her undergarments, trying not to poke her finger through the flimsy fabric.
“Why bother?” She looked down at her body. The skimpy bridal lingerie hid nothing and emphasized her triangle more than if she wore nothing at all. She resisted the urge to tear the silky material away from her skin, instead sinking down on the padded bench to pull on sheer stockings. After securing the lacy garters, she opened the box and pulled out a shoe. Her grandmother’s crystalline slippers.
“If only you were here, Nana.” If only the man from her vision were waiting at the altar.
Fighting back tears, she admired the footwear. Shells gathered from the Lanatus Sea had been intricately molded into a heel. Tiny straps made from strings of delicate pearls crisscrossed over a sole decorated with diamond dust. As a child, she thought the shoes were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. She slipped them on her small feet and stood, not surprised they fit perfectly. She and her grandmother had been alike in so many ways.
The door flew open. Subena wrapped her arms around her naked breasts. “Bockle, Mother. Do you ever knock?”
Her mother rushed in, shaking her head. “You still aren’t dressed?”
“Whoa. Who told you?”
Annika clicked her tongue.
“Sorry, Mother. You know how cranky I am when I haven’t slept.”
“Pretty much the same as when you have.” She watched as her mother visibly put on a happy face. She’d waited so long for the empress to stop mourning her father, Annika’s new attitude alone should be enough to make the day joyful. “Here, let me help you with the corset.”
“Two jokes in one morning. I will not wear a…”
The queen jerked the towel away before Subena could protest. The empress took the garment and wrapped it around Subena’s body and started lacing the back.
“Hold still.”
“I am not wearing this thing.” She tugged at white fabric interlaced with metallic threads, but her mother kept tightening the strings. Every pull pushed her breasts higher.
“It’s tradition.” The empress reached over her shoulder and fluffed Subena’s hair. “Besides, your dress won’t fit without the corset. Now smile. Your sisters are aglow with romance. If you must go through with this abominable plan, put on a happy face for them.”
Subena rubbed her temples. If only her mother could run a country as well as she could manipulate a daughter.
The empress spun her around as if she were a child’s top and lifted her chin with a firm hand. Annika pulled a bottle from her pocket and squeezed it into Subena’s eyes.
“Ouch. That stings.”
“This’ll put the sparkle back in your eyes. Can’t have them looking plain old gray.” The empress released her chin abruptly. Subena’s head banged against the edge of the chifforobe.
“Ouch.”
“Those drops don’t hurt that much.” The empress flicked her wrist. “Sit down. I’ll style your hair.”
Subena’s head ached. “You don’t have to do that. I can brush it.” The last thing she needed was her mother tugging at her scalp. Or seeing her pointed ears. Drawing upon her inner magic, she rounded the helix.
“Nonsense.” The empress pushed her into the chair at her dressing table and proceeded to pile Subena’s silvery hair in an intricate design. Each pull with the comb made the ache in her temple pound with renewed vigor. Subena closed her eyes, trying to distance her mind from the fire covering her scalp.
When Annika finished curling and pinning, the empress stepped back to admire her handiwork. “It won’t do.”
“What do you mean? It’s fine.”
Annika didn’t respond. She pursed her mouth and began to methodically remove every pin.
“Do you have to yank so hard?”
“Where’s my tough little girl?”
Her mother twisted her head back and jerked another pin free of a snarled curl. “Be still. It won’t hurt so much.”
Finally, all traces of hairpins had been removed. Subena lifted her fingers to massage her throbbing hairline, but the empress pushed her hands away.
“Let me, love. Close your eyes.”
The brush soothed. Her headache started to recede.
“Open your eyes,” the empress commanded. “You look beautiful. The silver matches your eyes.”
Subena blinked. Her long locks shimmered, catching every ray of light. The empress had pulled the tendrils from her face and set them in place with a row of gems that held a gauzy veil of iridescent colors.
Her mother stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Look at yourself. You’re gorgeous, little one. I’m sure everyone will forgive your lateness when they see how beautiful you are.”
The empress glanced at the time monitor. “This is not the day I’d hoped for, but it’s still your wedding day. We must hurry.” The empress twisted her back to Subena and started to remove the covering on the gown hanging near the door. Annika lovingly smoothed the silken folds of the gown she’d worn at her own ceremony.
She watched her mother’s cheery bravado transform into real joy and envy gnawed at her stomach. If nothing else, her mother was a romantic. Subena wished she could feel that sentiment. Wished she could feel anything.
Standing like a fence post, she let her mother slip the dress over her head and arms. The sapphire silk rustled as it fell over her body and brushed the floor. The sensuous fabric beckoned to the touch and shimmered as if woven from the movement of a waterfall. The beauty of the cloth did little to improve her mood.
The empress sighed. “You take the air from the room with your loveliness.”
The person who stared back in the mirror was unfamiliar. Black pearls and tiny diamonds framed the intricately embroidered low-cut bodice. The gemstones glittered with such intensity, she almost felt dizzy from their refractions.
No. It wasn’t the gems that made her lightheaded. It was the intensity of what she intended to do that made her sway.
The empress didn’t notice her hesitation. Annika had already headed to the door. At the entrance, she paused. “I’ll send Jalakin up to escort you.”
“I have to get Grandmother’s necklace. I’ll only be a moment.”
Annika huffed a breath. “Fine.”
After the door closed, Subena retrieved the necklace from her closet and sat down at her dressing table again. She looked at the tiny diamonds that form
ed the chain of the pendant, wishing again that her grandmother were around to advise her.
“Oh, Nana. How can I go through with this?”
She squeezed the necklace in her fist. She’d never been one to dream of romance or weddings, but she’d never imagined a day filled with sadness. The only enjoyment she would have would be the look on his face. She could barely wait for the moment when he realized he’d made a fool of himself with a dancing girl who was actually his fiancée. The sparkle returned to her eyes.
The twins burst through the door, followed by Jalakin. The girls squealed. “Oh, Bena.”
“The gown is gorgeous,” Nally exclaimed. “I can’t wait to wear it.”
“You can’t wear it,” countered Quika. “I’m wearing it.”
She hugged a twin with each arm, suddenly feeling the full weight of her sacrifice. She smiled, refusing to put a damper on her sisters’ excitement. “No more fighting or I’ll get new attendants.”
“Let go of me, Nal,” Quika shrieked. “You’ll wrinkle my dress.”
“It’s my dress,” the twin argued.
Each sister darted under one of Subena’s outstretched arms and headed for the stairs. The bickering continued as they raced down the stairs.
“Some things never change,” Jalakin said, no trace of a smile on his handsome face. “Ready?”
“No, but let’s go anyway.” She took her brother’s arm, fighting tears. She would miss her family.
Her brother whispered, “Are you positive you have to do this?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Then I have to believe things will be all right.”
Jalakin is wrong. Things won’t be right. Not at all.
Chapter Ten
Kamber wanted to kick something but refrained because people watched. He stood erect and tried not to think about the beautiful dancing creature. He thought about the Gatsle crops that were failing, about the schools that needed building, and even about how he would keep Rekita away from his bride, but thinking didn’t help. As hard as he tried to occupy his mind, he couldn’t purge the image of the beautiful waltzer and her smoldering eyes.