The Priestess and the Thief

by Evangeline Anderson

  All through the large room, long, soft couches were scattered. They were the kind with just one rolled arm at one end—a chaise lounge, Elli believed it was called.

  Apparently Supper was a special event because there weren’t nearly enough of the low couches to accommodate the entire Court. She only counted around twenty-five or thirty scattered around the large room.

  Most of the lounges were made of dark brown leather but in the very center of the room, on a raised dais, was a gaudy golden one. Instead of buttons between its cushions, it had diamonds and other precious stones studding its golden leather, which glimmered richly in the muted lighting.

  “I’m guessing that couch in the center is for the Crown Prince,” Roke remarked, as the Duke and Duchess chose one of the lounges near the front of the room and indicated that he and Elli should take the one directly beside them.

  “Oh yes—of course.” The Duke nodded as he sat back against the rolled end of his lounge and his wife settled between his legs. “How else could we Mirror His Majesty if he was not the center of attention?”

  “Mirror him?” Elli asked, but before anyone could answer her question, there was a flourish of fanfare and the Crown Prince himself stepped into the room.

  At once, every Tenebrian noble in the room rose and bowed low to their monarch. Elli and Roke followed suit, Elli watching from the corner of her eye to see what the Court would do next.

  The Crown Prince walked to the raised dais with the golden lounge, but before climbing the steps that led up to it, he bent and removed his shoes and stockings.

  Everyone else in the room did this as well. It wasn’t hard for Elli, who only had to slip off her little satin slippers but Roke had to fight with his tall black boots, a low curse coming from his lips as he finally got them off.

  Having gotten his knee-high silk stockings and high-heeled shoes with their golden buckles off, the Crown Prince stepped into the stream that flowed through the room, submerging his pale feet in the milky blue water.

  At once, everyone in the Court followed suit.

  “Oh—it’s warm!” Elli murmured as she stepped into the part of the pale blue stream that ran closest to their lounge.

  “It’s been infused with the chemicals of our home world,” the Duchess explained in her soft, dreamy voice. “To make it safe for delicate Tenebrian skin. So much nicer than that awful, cold stuff that falls from the sky here on Pok.”

  “You mean rain?” Elli raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Yes—that.” The Duchess made a face and shivered. “So harsh and abrasive—dangerously so!”

  Elli had always liked rain herself—it made the world feel clean and refreshed. It had been one of the things she missed while living in the artificial environment of the Mother Ship. But apparently the Tenebrians hated it. She wondered if it was actually dangerous to them—maybe it ate into their skin like acid or something.

  Just then, the Crown Prince finally stepped out of the stream and dried his feet on a towel that had been left on the steps of the dais for him. On cue, the Tenebrian nobles went back to their lounges and used the towels that had been stored under the long pieces of furniture, apparently for this purpose. Once their feet were dry, they did not put their shoes back on because the Crown Prince left his off. Instead, everybody sat back on their lounges with the males sitting behind and cradling their females between their legs.

  “This reminds me of sledding down hills with my brothers when I was little,” Elli remarked, as she settled gingerly between Roke’s long legs, making certain not to press back against him too much.

  “I beg your pardon, but what is ‘sledding’?” the Duchess asked as she got resettled between her husband’s legs.

  “Oh—it’s something we did for fun whenever snow fell,” Elli answered. “You take a flat piece of board to the top of a hill and ride it all the way down.”

  “Snow?” The Duke frowned in obvious confusion.

  “When water—rain—freezes during the winter months, it falls down as snowflakes,” Elli tried to explain.

  “That horrid stuff freezes?” The Duchess shivered. “Ugh! And I thought it couldn’t get any worse!”

  “Oh, no! It’s actually—” Elli began but just then the Crown Prince cleared his throat and everyone in the room went utterly silent.

  “Now then,” he said, rubbing his hands together and looking around the room. “Who shall be my Bride of the Night?”

  The women in all the lounges sat up straighter and Elli noticed a great deal of preening going on. Some of the noblewomen were smoothing their dresses and patting their elaborate hairdos—some of which towered as much as three feet above their heads—and others appeared to be surreptitiously checking their make-up in small hand-held viewers.

  “I think I shall choose…Lady Heekenbottom.” The Crown Prince pointed a finger at one of the women in the front row. Her pale cheeks went a pale violet and she rose at once and nodded to her husband before ascending the dais to curtsey before the Crown Prince.

  “What’s happening?” Elli murmured to the Duchess. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, the Crown Prince has no Heart’s Companion, so every night at Supper he chooses one lucky noble to be his ‘Bride of the Night.’” the Duchess whispered back.

  “Really?” Elli asked uneasily. “So then she sits with him and eats Supper with him?”

  “And then goes to spend the night in the Royal Bedchamber.” The Duchess fluttered her long, white lashes expressively. “And of course, if the lucky girl gets impregnated by His Majesty, her status grows enormously!”

  “Right along with her belly!” the Duke put in, with a chuckle.

  “I don’t—” Elli began but she was interrupted by the husband of the woman who had been chosen to go to the Crown Prince.

  “I choose…” he was saying, looking around the room. “I choose Lady Birthenbeak.”

  The noblewoman he was pointing at rose and came forward to join Lord Heekenbottom on his lounge. Whereupon, Lord Birthenbeak, her husband, rose and began looking around the room.

  “Does this happen every Supper?” Elli asked, as he called out the name of “Lady Pottymod” and another Tenebrian noblewoman rose and went to join him, leaving her husband to look for a new Supper partner as well.

  “Oh yes,” the Duchess murmured. “That’s why the Court rotates their Supper dates—so everyone has a chance of spending the night with the Crown Prince at least once a cycle.”

  “You mean all the women have a chance, correct?” Roke growled.

  “Oh my no—that would hardly be fair, now would it?” the Duke remarked. “For the Ladies must have their chance to choose new companions too, at times. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes His Highness chooses a male to be his Bride of the Night. He is a remarkably giving lover,” he added, clearly speaking from experience.

  “My darling Bertie was chosen as His Majesty’s Bride of the Night just six months past,” the Duchess confided to Elli proudly, nodding at the Duke. “You can imagine the jump in our status, I’m sure.”

  “Of course,” Elli murmured, frowning. She had nothing against those who loved people of their own sex, but personally, she felt sorry for anyone—man or woman—who had to spend the night with the frog-faced Crown Prince just because His Majesty said so. “I just think—” she began but at that moment someone called her name.

  “Lady Ellilah the foreigner,” a male voice said.

  Looking up, Elli saw that a Tenebrian nobleman with long, dark blue hair done up in elaborate curls was pointing at her.

  “Excuse me?” she asked blankly, not understanding.

  “I choose Lady Ellilah, the Zorel Entrancer to keep me company tonight,” the nobleman said and beckoned at her. “Come at once, my Lady!”

  Nineteen

  Elli was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. But surprise turned to terror in an instant. Oh my God, I can’t do this—I can’t! she thought. Because she knew it wasn’t just Supper th
e Tenebrian nobleman wanted her for—he wanted to take her back to his bedchamber after wards and…and…

  But she couldn’t make herself finish the thought. For a long moment she just sat there, staring blankly at the Tenebrian nobleman who was beckoning to her impatiently. Then she realized there was a low, angry growling coming from behind her.

  Turning her head, she saw that the sound was coming from Roke. His eyes were blood-red and he was glaring at the Tenebrian nobleman who had called Elli’s name.

  Oh my Goddess! Elli thought, staring at the big warrior. He might only be half Kindred but he’s definitely going into Rage!

  Rage was the state of berserker fury a Kindred warrior went into when he thought that his female was being threatened. When fully in the grip of such fury, a Kindred warrior would kill or die to protect the female he loved.

  But Roke doesn’t love me, Elli thought. Why would he go into Rage for me?

  She didn’t have an answer but she was afraid things were going to escalate quickly if the Tenebrian nobleman insisted on having her as his “Bride for the Night.”

  Speaking of the nobleman, he clearly didn’t understand what a mess he had made for himself.

  “I said, I choose Lady Ellilah—come to me,” he demanded, beckoning to Elli as though she was a tamed pet that would come on command when her name was called.

  “You…fucking…dare…” Roke’s deep voice was thick with fury and his eyes were blazing. “You—”

  “Lord, Villaphone, you forget your place!” The Crown Prince’s high, fruity voice rang out through the large Supper room.

  Everyone looked at their Monarch, who was standing at the edge of the raised dais and looking incensed. Elli wondered if he was really angry or if he just couldn’t bear to not be the center of attention for even a moment.

  “Your Highness?” The Tenebrian nobleman asked, looking concerned. “Have I erred?”

  “You damn well have, Sir!” The Crown Prince glared at him, his froggy eyes bulging with fury. “The Royal Zorel Entrancer is not in your class. She is not in anyone’s class but my own, as she is a special officer that I myself have appointed! Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Villaphone bowed low. “Forgive me, please,” he added, bowing to Elli as well.

  “Um…sure.” She nodded, feeling weak with relief. Behind her, she could hear that Roke had stopped growling. Good—at least he wasn’t so far gone into Rage that he couldn’t pull himself back from it.

  “Leave the Supper Room,” the Crown Prince told Lord Villaphone. “There will be no companion and no Supper for you tonight!”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” With an abashed look, the disgraced noble turned and fled—still barefoot—from the large Supper room.

  “Now then.” The Crown Prince cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “We may continue with Supper. Everyone, please be seated.”

  And he went back to his lounge to cuddle with his “Bride of the Night.”

  “Um, what just happened?” Elli whispered from the corner of her mouth to the Duchess.

  “Oh, there are strict rules about who may request whom as a Supper and bedchamber companion,” the Duchess whispered back. “No one of lower rank may request a companion of higher rank. I think that Lord Villaphone misunderstood your rank—which is apparently quite high.” She gave Elli a look that was half envious, half awed as she sank back against her husband’s chest on their lounge.

  “He’s fucking lucky the Prince stepped in,” Roke growled. “He doesn’t know how close he just came to having his head torn off!”

  “Really, old boy, there’s no need for such aggression,” the Duke said, looking shocked. “After all, one spends one’s whole life with one’s Heart’s Companion. It’s nice to have a bit of variety now and then.”

  “Yes indeed.” The Duchess nodded.

  “Well that’s not the way we do it in our culture,” Elli told them. She looked over her shoulder at Roke. “Are you all right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “All right? Of course I’m all right!” He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders as though to get rid of tension. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?”

  “Maybe because you were going into Rage for me just now?” Elli said, raising both eyebrows this time. “Don’t deny it—I saw your eyes go red and you were growling.”

  “I’m sworn to protect you, that’s all,” Roke said stiffly. “It’s not like I want to call you as my Bride—you know Havocs don’t bond.”

  “I didn’t think they went into Rage either,” Elli remarked.

  “I wasn’t going into…all right, I was,” he admitted in a low growl. “It just made me so fucking angry that some bastard just thought he could come and take you away from me and—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I just feel protective of you—that’s all, little priestess. And I’m thinking of my own hide, too. The Goddess sent me to watch out for you—what do you think she’ll do to me if I fail and you get hurt or abused in some way?”

  “Probably what you were about to do to Lord Villiaphone,” Elli murmured, a little smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

  “Be quiet and come here—the servers are bringing the food,” he ordered, scowling at her.

  Elli settled back against his broad chest but she couldn’t help smiling. Now that the fright she’d had was fading, she found she quite liked teasing the big warrior.

  She had no idea how soon he would be in a position to tease her back…

  Twenty

  What in the Seven Hells is wrong with me, acting like that? Roke asked himself. Like some lovesick Kindred mooning over a female he wants to call as his bride!

  But he hadn’t been able to help his reaction, no matter how irrational it was. The minute that Tenebrian asshole had demanded that Ellilah come with him, a red curtain had dropped over Roke’s eyes and a fury so great it was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, had filled him like molten metal pouring into a smelter’s cup.

  There had been only one word in his head—Mine! And though the Rage had passed, it echoed there still, as part of him still insisted that the little priestess was his by right and he would kill or die to keep any other male from touching her.

  You’re a damn fool! Roke told himself. But he couldn’t stop the possessive and protective emotions that still filled him. Carefully, he cradled Ellilah’s small form to his chest, determined to keep her safe no matter what else occurred.

  After all, Supper wasn’t over yet—who knew what else might happen before they got to leave and go back to the safety of their own bedchamber?

  Twenty-One

  Elli settled back against the big warrior, grateful for his presence at her back. It had been scary, watching him go into Rage. But it was also nice to know how strongly he felt about protecting her. So far Supper had been a strange affair and they hadn’t even had any food yet—she wondered what could possibly be next.

  As a matter of fact, the next thing that occurred was the soup course. Or what apparently passed for soup among the Tenebrians.

  “What is this?” Roke asked, disgust clear in his voice, as he dipped a spoon into the slimy green liquid filling the bowl at his side. When he tipped his hand, the green stuff poured out of his spoon in a viscous drool that dripped back into the bowl like mucus.

  Servants had come and put folding trays beside each lounge with utensils for two—though they had been given only one bowl of the “soup.” Clearly they were meant to share—though as far as Elli was concerned, Roke could have the dish they had been presented all to himself.

  “Oh, this is ashta-kali slime,” the Duchess told Roke. “It’s a specialty of our home planet, Tenebria.”

  “Slime?” Elli echoed, feeling ill. “Um…where does it come from?”

  “It’s a very delicate algae which grows on the edges of our underground lakes,” the Duke said, answering this time. “We harvest it at its peak ripeness, season it with a bit of pika spice, and serve it f
resh.”

  “What—so it’s not even cooked?” Roke demanded, frowning.

  “Of course not!” The Duchess looked shocked. “That would ruin the lovely, delicate flavor!”

  “I see.” Elli tried to smile. “Well, it looks really…special,” she offered at last—which wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “You’re lucky to taste it,” the Duke informed her. “We don’t have it often—it’s a delicacy.”

  “I can tell that it is. Mmmm…” Elli pretended to take a bite of the “soup” which was literally pond scum and smiled widely. Then she looked at Roke. “Try some—it’s delicious.”

  “I’m sure,” he growled but pretended to try a bite anyway.

  “I hope they’re going to give us something besides this to eat or we’re going to starve to death,” Elli murmured to him.

  “Don’t worry—I’m sure we can get a servant to bring us something from the kitchens after we get back to our chamber. We—” Roke broke off talking and looked around the room with a frown. “What in the Seven Hells?” he muttered.

  Elli looked around as well and saw that all of the nobles had stopped eating their slime soup and were now engaged in passionate kissing with their partners.

  “Huh?” she muttered. “Why—” Then she saw the reason everyone had interrupted the soup course to kiss—up on the raised dais in the center of the room, the Crown Prince and his “Bride of the Night” were passionately making out as though they couldn’t get enough of each other.

  “What’s wrong with you two?” the Duke hissed from the corner of his mouth as the Duchess kissed him.

  “Yes, why aren’t you Mirroring His Majesty?” the Duchess whispered, in between kisses. “You won’t keep your high status long if you don’t Mirror properly!”

  “What about it, little priestess?” Roke murmured, looking down at her. “Should we ‘Mirror’ the Prince?”