Kemma looked past her and the uniformed guards and her frown deepened. “I think there are two other—”
“Yeah.” In a wealthy commercial area like this having two guards was already overkill—four was absurd. “They’re guarding me too.”
“Will they at least carry our purchases?” Kemma asked, raising her eyebrows.
Her guard gave a scowl and a sharp headshake.
Arissa shifted her feet. “I understand if you don’t want to—”
Kemma held up a hand. “Oh, no. We’re shopping.” With a mischievous grin she nodded toward the nearest store. “Come on, boys!”
Mortified despite their stoic expressions, the guards followed Kemma and Arissa into the lingerie boutique.
Kemma held a yellow shimmersilk nightgown against her body. “Ooo,” she cooed, sticking her fingers through the slashed openings of the breast cups. “I like this one. Luckily for me, as an Ornament, I can write off all sorts of expenses.”
Red-faced and aware they were also garnering glares from other female shop patrons, the men quickly ceded to Arissa’s request that they wait outside.
“Thank you,” Arissa said as the guards left. “I’m really sorry they’re tagging along.”
Kemma waved it off. “Oh, it’s fine.” Kemma held up another gown of pale blue without the slashed cups. “Besides it’s really sweet that your husband is so protective of you.”
Arissa’s face warmed. “Yes, I uh . . .”
Kemma threw her an amused look. “Ornaments revere Arrena. We like to see the Goddess of Love make a happy marriage. Hey, maybe Jolar won’t mind me taking you shopping if you come home with this?” Kemma held up a red shimmersilk gown with a slit up the leg. “Let’s get a couple of fitting rooms.”
Arissa bought the gown and, at Kemma’s urging, the matching robe. Kemma had an armful of lingerie by the time they were finished. So high was the pile that Arissa wondered if she really were able to write them off.
The only thing Kemma seemed to like better than shopping for clothing was purchasing footwear and Arissa sank gratefully into her chair when they finally stopped for lunch.
The café was high ceilinged and decorated in the ornate, opulent style of the late royal period, the walls were covered in yellow watered shimmersilk, the furniture dark and heavily carved. Uniformed servers moved smoothly between tables as Apovian string melodies floated down over the diners.
The busy restaurant was à la carte only and scanning the selections hungrily Arissa was now very grateful that Jolar encouraged her to spend as she wished—lunch was going to cost a fortune.
A young man and a richly dressed woman—likely twice his age—sat dining in an alcove nearby. Kemma and the young man had exchanged discreet, professional glances as she and Arissa were seated and Arissa understood immediately that this young man was an Ornament too.
Certainly he was strikingly handsome—tall and broad-shouldered with black hair, and startling amber eyes. His attentions were smoothly done but the set of the woman’s shoulders was taut and her eyes flicked about, self-consciousness at having a young, handsome—and paid—companion. Arissa winced inwardly. Deeply in love, this young man felt it keenly that his sincere attempts at wooing were being dismissed by his patron as just the consummate skill of a professional companion.
They sipped on icy fruit drinks and when the food arrived, Arissa flushed to see her order filled most of the table while Kemma was only dining on salad.
Just then, a woman, her soft blue dress draping elegantly around her pregnant belly walked by the window, smiling down at the little girl at her side. The child was neatly dressed in a quilted jacket and skirt and her hair—the same golden brown as her mother’s—was woven into pinned up braids.
The warm look in the woman’s eyes, the way the little girl’s hand was tucked lovingly in hers made Arissa think of her own mother. It also sent a sudden longing for a child of her own through her chest.
A child with vivid blue eyes . . .
“Kemma, did you ever want to get married instead of, uh…” Arissa blurted then blushed at having asked such an artless question.
“Believe it or not, I love what I do,” Kemma answered with a smile.
“I believe it,” Arissa protested. The young man’s patron pulled her hand from his, and his expression was crestfallen. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Kemma raised an eyebrow. “You have an interesting attitude for a respectably married woman. I had the feeling your husband disapproved of you spending time with me. Perhaps he’s worried I’ll talk you into a career change.”
Arissa hesitated but she couldn’t see any harm in it. “I seriously considered becoming an Ornament. Before I was married.”
“Wow,” Kemma said, pausing with the fork halfway to her mouth. “Sorry, I don’t get surprised often but that just about floored me.”
Arissa gave an embarrassed shrug. Kemma was a stunning woman of obvious sensuality and beautifully dressed every time Arissa had seen her. “I’m probably not the type for it, right?”
“Actually, I think you would be an astonishingly successful Ornament.” Kemma shifted a bit to allow the server to refill her glass. “Let me know if you decide to, I’ll sponsor you for training.”
“What’s it like?” Arissa asked. “Being an Ornament?”
“Well,” Kemma took a sip of water, considering. “I went the full route with three years of training in Arrena’s temple in Laku-Nima. I was courted by a number of men who wanted to be my protector when I joined the Ornaments’ Guild. Signing an exclusive contract with a protector is not that different than a marriage really, except it’s only for a limited time.”
“And you don’t get attached?”
“No,” Kemma said softly. “That’s where you’re wrong. Perhaps the streetwalkers who do nothing more than make a man spill his seed are like that. I’ve had only a handful of protectors and I’ve loved every one of them.”
Arissa looked away.
Kemma gave her a puzzled look. “What?”
“It’s nothing,” Arissa mumbled. “It’s none of my business.”
“Oh,” Kemma said softly, leaning her elbows on the table. “Well, then it’s either about Lian being married or me agreeing to be his shadow consort. Go ahead and ask,” Kemma said without rancor. “Do I feel guilty about being the paid companion of a married man? How can I keep him from her and live with myself? What is it?”
“Do you ever want to marry Lian?” Lately she’d caught herself more and more imagining a life with Jolar, but no telepath had a future. She was superstitious about even dreaming of one. “Is it enough to be with him for now?”
“You are surprising, Arissa.” Kemma gave a half smile. “Believe it or not, I struggled with that. And yes, it’s usually enough but sometimes . . . sometimes it’s hard. And yes, sometimes I feel guilty because he’s married even though it hasn’t been a real marriage for a long, long time. She knows all about me and couldn’t care less. Be grateful for what you and your husband have. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so in love.” Kemma tilted her head, her hands wrapped around her water glass, a frown touching her brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because everything’s so new.” Arissa’s stomach clenched when she realized how she’d slipped. “I mean, having him home. He just left the Fleet a few months ago.”
Kemma shrugged. “Well, it’ll work itself out. Give it time.”
They window-shopped through the jewelry district. Arissa couldn’t face the cost enough even to go inside but she was surprised that Kemma didn’t seem interested in doing more than looking either.
Kemma stopped at one window display and gave a low whistle. “Astuk crystal necklace. Now that’s nice.”
“They’re beautiful stones,” Arissa agreed. The gems shimmered in rainbow colors under the shops’ lights. “But why make a necklace out of them? They must be worth a fortune as a power source.”
“Not those,” Kemma said. �
�If they’ve made jewelry out of them, they’ve got a fatal flaw of some kind. They’d just shatter in the converter.”
“I didn’t know it was possible to detect a flaw before it shattered.”
“Sometimes you can. One of my protectors was a dealer on Gensoy, he was always trying out new tests to better weed out the flawed ones.” She eyed the necklace. “Pretty though.”
“Maybe Lian will buy it for you.”
Kemma threw her a smile. “Lian’s a lot of things but insanely, obscenely wealthy is not one of them. And to be vulgar, I’d rather have the same money in nice comfy investments yielding fourteen per cent then a sparkly necklace worth a tenth of the price he paid for it. The Ornaments’ Guild retirement package is less than impressive.”
“I’ll take that as a complement. I mean,” Arissa said, flushing at Kemma’s puzzled look. “You probably don’t talk so, uh, vulgarly to most people.”
Kemma smiled. “No, you’re right. Just friends.”
Warmth spread through Arissa’s chest and she smiled back.
She sighed when the guard reminded her that the car would be coming shortly to take her back and despite the man’s scowl, she offered Kemma, who was ready to hale a hired car, a ride home.
Kemma’s purchases were packed around her legs and Arissa’s few rested in her lap. The guards riding with them in the groundcar hindered conversation but Lian’s rented house was not far from Bruscan’s home. One look at the house and Arissa wondered what Kemma would consider insanely wealthy, if this were not it.
Lian came out to help Kemma with her purchases. “Another successful hunt I see?”
“I bought you something special in pale blue,” Kemma said, her dimple showing.
Lian laughed. “I’m guessing I won’t be the one wearing it. What about you Arissa?” He glanced at her small haul. “Did Kemma outpace you or are the rest up with the driver?”
“This is all I managed,” Arissa said.
“She’s new at this,” Kemma said. “But I’ll get her up to speed eventually.”
“You and your husband should join us for dinner some night,” Lian said.
“Maybe that Leman restaurant in the middle city?” Kemma suggested. “It’s supposed to be divine.” She gave Lian a sly smile. “As are all things Leman.”
He laughed again. “So true.”
“Excuse me,” one of the guards—the tall one—said. “We’re due back at Mr. Milin’s shortly.”
Arissa threw him an annoyed look but Lian and Kemma stepped back.
“I’ll give you a call in a few days,” Kemma promised as the guard shut Arissa’s door.
Nela met her in the foyer. ““The gentlemen are outside on the patio. Master Legan asked that you join them as soon as you arrive. I’ll take your things to your suite.”
It was unnerving how this woman was always watching and cataloguing the smallest thing anyone in the household did.
“Yes, thank you,” Arissa nodded, forcing a smile relieved to be away from the woman as soon as she handed over the beautifully wrapped package.
Her awareness shifted as soon as she stepped outside. Seated with Jolar and Bruscan was a powerfully built man, his dark hair, eyes and bronze skin showing him a Utavian.
Arissa recognized him instantly.
Jolar stood as soon as he saw her and pressed a kiss against her cheek. His blue eyes held hers for a moment. “How was Tano-Sertar?”
“Wonderful,” she said.
“Let me introduce you,” Jolar said. “Arissa, this is Broc Attar. Master Attar, my wife.”
“Mistress Legan,” he said standing, his Utavian accent unmistakable. “It is a pleasure.”
Behind his dark eyes Broc was a jumble of stomach-churning anxiety. In the blink of an eye Arissa brushing his sense and an image of him, fearfully scanning for danger, always on guard against attack, filled her mind. Jolar and Bruscan were serious-minded but not frightened.
Whatever danger Broc felt he was in, the other men felt secure here. Nor did Broc fear them. In fact, he would likely do anything to impress them.
“For me as well,” she said.
“We’ve been talking business,” Jolar said. “Master Attar may be interested in supplying crystals to the Fleet.”
“I would not wish to bore the lady,” Broc assured quickly.
“Nonsense,” Bruscan said. “I’m sure Arissa would love to sit in on our discussion.”
Broc spread his hands. “But we have concluded for the day, I would say.” He took a step away from the table. “And you mentioned you had plans for the evening, did you not?”
None of Jolar’s puzzlement and wariness showed in his smile. “Yes, we have an engagement tonight.”
“I will leave you then.” Broc inclined his head to Arissa. “I look forward to extending our acquaintance another time.”
“Of course,” she said.
Bruscan escorted Broc out and Jolar gave her a questioning look.
“He’s very fearful,” she said quietly. “I startled him to the point of panic when I came out.”
“He hides it well, then.” Jolar gave her an appreciative smile. “Though not from you, of course. Anything else?”
“I can say for certain he doesn’t know who you really are.” She considered. “He knows himself to be in great danger. Like he has to constantly be on guard.”
“But maybe that’s because he’s a very wealthy man from a poor world,” Jolar pointed out. “And his money appeared too quickly for him to have come by it honestly. What else?”
Arissa thought. “He doesn’t appear to bear you any ill-will. He’s very interested in making a good impression.”
“He’s very interested in the contract that’s for sure. But considering his supposed wealth, he shouldn’t need it. I’ll ask Bruscan to make some inquiries about Broc’s financial situation.” He gave her a smile. “Maybe he recently lost it all playing tongo.”
“So where are we going tonight?”
“Ah,” Jolar said, sliding his arms around her waist. “We, wife, have procured some very hard-to-get invitations to the trade conference reception being held at the Niman embassy.”
“Carlea Renn,” Arissa said.
“Carlea Renn,” Jolar agreed. “How was Tano-Sertar, really?” He cupped her cheek. “Did you have fun, sweet?”
“Didn’t the guards tell you? They watched every move I made.”
“They told me that you spent a long time looking at a certain necklace—”
She blinked. She hadn’t expected their reporting to be so thorough. It was disconcerting, really. “Did they tell you what I bought?”
“No, but considering where you bought it I can honestly say I’m looking forward to seeing it on you tonight.” Jolar gave her a hot smile. “And then taking it off . . .”
Eighteen
Arissa adjusted the shimmersilk wrap around her shoulders as she looked over the crowd at the Niman embassy. A quieter, more sophisticated group than those at the previous night’s party, a number in attendance tonight seemed to be Niman, with the fine and beautiful bone structure of that world’s inhabitants. The décor inside the embassy was a lovely blend of cool ocean blues and warm coral tones. Even the chandeliers were abstract frosted glass reminiscent of sea creatures; the musicians played on traditional Niman wind flutes filling the air with sweet sound.
The daily practice Jolar insisted on was helping her focus tremendously. Now, even at a crowded party like this, she could dampen her awareness of the emotions around her until they were a background hum instead of an agonizing din. She could concentrate on one person or group and shift her awareness quickly to another at will.
During this afternoon’s practice session the images she gleaned from Jolar’s mind came easier and the experience was far less frightening. He delighted in sharing with her a memory of the sand under his feet, the feel of the warm crystal waters of the Niman ocean around him.
Jolar handed her a glass of sparkle wine.
He laughed, his golden hair catching the light. “Shooting stars don’t leave you with a hangover if you drink too many. You know, usually I hate these things,” Jolar said with a glance around at the formal reception. He gave her a warm smile. “Must be the company.”
She felt beautiful under his soft gaze. “I think this is wonderful.”
“Well,” he said. “If you like this sort of party, I can promise we can go to plenty more of them . . . later.”
Later. When this was finished and she had her ID. He would take her to Nima, and the other worlds, and show her the homeworld that he loved so much, Zartan.
A whole life together.
But right now they had to find Carlea Renn.
She had seen Carlea’s holo but with a change of hairstyle along with the formal attire of the party and in a crowd from her homeworld, she wasn’t going to be easy to pick out.
Wondering if Bruscan had any better luck in finding their quarry, Arissa sought him with her eyes and Seer’s senses. She soon located him talking with the Niman ambassador on the upper galley.
Arissa took another quick sip of the sparkle wine and touched Jolar’s arm. “Bruscan wants to introduce us.”
Jolar’s surprise rippled as he glanced around. “Uh, do we even know—”
“Upper galley.”
Jolar glanced that way and finished off his wine before placing his glass and hers on the tray of a passing waiter.
The Niman ambassador was a portly man with silver hair, his formal high-collared black shirt seemed to be cutting a bit into his neck but he was gracious in his welcome when Bruscan introduced them.
“I spent some time on Apovia in my younger years,” Ambassador Tivan said to her kindly. “It’s a lovely world.”
“It is,” Arissa agreed. “I’m afraid I’ve never been to Nima.”
The Ambassador’s brushy gray eyebrows rose. “You must remedy that at first opportunity, Mistress Legan! My homeworld has much to recommend it.”
The Seer Page 16