by Jean Winter
“Okay,” Jos'lie replied. Without missing a step, she spun again and skipped back to Lyra.
It made Lyra laugh. The girl was pure sunshine.
Much later, when both of J'Kor's children had been fed and breakfast cleaned up except for the plate left out for him, he finally emerged. The eyes were bloodshot and his headache still seemed to be bothering him, but Lyra was given a short nod and Jos'lie was allowed to pounce on him for a few minutes from the comfort of his arm chair. Presently, Breht was called over and instructions were given to take Jos'lie outside to begin morning chores. The boy moaned and complained. Jos'lie would just slow him down and get in the way, but J'Kor insisted and Breht finally obeyed.
It was with some nervousness that Lyra helped Jos'lie get ready and waved her out the door, knowing that the “talk” to which J'Kor had referred last night was impending.
“We might as well make this official and meet in my office,” J'Kor murmured from the table where he had begun his breakfast. “Meet me in a few minutes?”
“Yes, my, uh … yes.” With a quick curtsy, Lyra went to the bedroom to finally get dressed … and look for her necklet.
She was unable to locate any sign of it in the corner where it had been thrown. Drat! It was already disposed of. Discouraged, Lyra left—with one more furtive glance toward the vanity closet and its laden top shelf.
J'Kor was already seated at his desk when Lyra hesitantly stepped into the very tidy office. “I'm sorry if I took too long,” she said with an automatic bend of her knee.
“Lyra, relax. Just come in and sit. Please.” He indicated the small chair across from his desk, then kneading fingers were at his head again.
“I can make you a tea for that. Would you like me to brew some—”
His hand shot up and his look told her that she, apparently, was not relaxed enough. Lyra turned to staring at her lap, literally twiddling her thumbs.
J'Kor began, “It seems we have come to the point o' discussing the terms o' my surrender.”
“My lord?” She peeked up at him.
“Kade,” he corrected, his brow, lined, and as serious as ever.
No. It was too personal, too … dangerous to consider addressing him as such. She just nodded. “Surrender?”
“Aye, that quite feels like the appropriate word for this situation, do you no' agree?” J'Kor seemed content to speak mostly to his desk. “You were right about me, I was wrong about you. I, again, apologize for my repulsive behavior and … humbly concede that any religion that can turn out a woman like you canno' be all bad.” A moment was taken for a brisk clear of his throat. “I ask that you forgive a proud, narrow-minded man o' his weaknesses and allow him the chance to treat you with the respect you deserve.”
Shock. Utter and astonishing shock. Lyra sat openmouthed, speechless, and J'Kor shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Lyra, that was … excruciatingly difficult for me to admit. Please,” he murmured, “say something.”
“Oh, uh, well—w-what did you have in mind,” she stumbled, “exactly?” You dork! You could have said something nice first.
He took a deep breath. “Well, first, we can rethink your occupation here as less o' a … slave and more, perhaps, like indentured servitude, until such time as you can pay back the investment I made in you—which, by the way, given the current going salary for full-time housekeeping, will end in about … nineteen years.” He glanced up briefly before going on. “And second, as you continue performing the regular household chores o' cooking, cleaning, and so forth, I will formally retire as your stalker and be only your employer.”
Bewildered beyond words, Lyra had a hard time forming anything at her lips. “My … Lord J'Kor, sir,” she finally chose, getting a slight frown for it, “are you certain you are okay with this?”
“Out o' necessity,” he quickly continued, businesslike, “you will still be required to play your part as needed in front o' the children and in public, and as such, I must ask that you continue wearing my necklet at all times. However, as I said last night, we can set you up in Jos'lie's room for sleeping.”
“What about when the children are home? What about harvest break?”
“Jos'lie will certainly enjoy having you 'camp out' with her regularly. After all,” his attempted smile came out more like a grimace, “a man does no' necessarily need his khar available every night. Well, unless you are Sal. And as for all the other nights, I suppose … you can have the bed and I will take the floor.”
“No, sir,” Lyra blurted. “I wouldn't feel comfortable kicking you out of your own bed.”
“You have a better suggestion?”
“I will take the floor,” she offered quietly.
“I am no' going to make you sleep on the floor.”
“I have slept on a sack stuffed with straw my entire life,” she rebutted. “I am certain I will be quite comfortable.”
J'Kor sighed. “Well, we have some time to figure that out.” His fingers went to drumming on his desk a moment as he thought more. “Oh, and you can have every 'Vend off to … you know, do as you please.”
The entirety of his offer was, to put it lightly, overwhelming. To just have a simple, working relationship, and the peace of mind of his continued protection! There was just one thing, and Lyra couldn't keep it back.
“That all sounds wonderful, sir! I am in awe of your generosity and-and please do believe that I will do my very best to continue working hard, only—do you think that maybe, perhaps in the next few months—that you might let me,” Lyra closed her eyes, committed to finishing out her question for better or worse, “have a week or two off to try to go find my children?”
A few agonizing seconds passed. J'Kor just sat there, understandably reticent with the request, and Lyra's anxiety skyrocketed. “And then I promise I will come right back to you,” she quickly assured. “I just need to know that they're safe and let them know that I'm okay. They think I'm dead.” Against her will, she was becoming slightly emotional. “You know I will keep my promise. I—I just need to know that they are safe.” Lyra held her breath. His fingers stopped their drumming and as they lay there motionless on the desk her lungs started to scream for air.
“Lyra,” he finally said with a measured firmness, “I am afraid I canno' afford to be that generous. I am sorry.” He gave a somber shake of his head
“Do you not trust me?” she replied, struggling to retain her composure.
The forthcoming laugh was short and humorless. “It is other people that I do no' trust. For starters, you would be taking a terrible risk traveling alone with that implant. Do you realize how easy it is for someone with a signal tracker—any signal tracker—to discover your frequency? You would automatically be picked up, anyway, if anyone happened to catch sight o' the back o' your neck.”
“I can keep off the roads. Stay away from people.”
“No' as easy as you would like to think, Lyra. Have you counted up, lately, the number o' people who have their eye on you? I would no' be surprised if D'Pendul is having this house monitored as we speak. You would be missed very quickly if you suddenly dropped out o' sight.”
“You … could say you sent me to help out at a distant relative's for a while, or pretend that I am sick in bed with something.”
“It would take you at least a week on foot to even get back to Flantilly. Do you even know exactly where your people went after they evacuated?”
“Well, not exactly. I have a general idea—”
“Aye,” J'Kor cut in, his patience wearing thin. “Then you could spend weeks just wandering around the mountains trying to find them! Meanwhile, I will be running out o' excuses. It will no' take long for a full investigation to be launched, and under threat o' my family's safety, aye, I will tell them where you went. And if, by some miracle, you did happen to find them before you got lost or eaten by a predator or captured, do you really believe your people would let you return to me?”
His reasoning, unfortunately
, was quite logical. Lyra's shoulders hunched. She fought to keep emotional control. “Of course. You are right. I'm sorry I brought it up. Forgive me.”
The air settled between them for a minute and when J'Kor spoke again, he sounded weary. “I think I will take the children into S'looth today for some fishing and playing at Hill Park. It has been a long time since we have done that, and I imagine you will welcome some time to yourself. I will make up a short chore list for you.”
“Yes, sir. That sounds like a good idea.” Lyra nodded absently. “You should have those times with your children while you can—” Her voice caught unexpectedly and she quickly changed the subject. “Will that be all, sir?” She was aware of some wetness collecting at the corners of her eyes. J'Kor recognized it immediately.
“Lyra, I am sorry. That was bad timing. I did no' mean to sound insensitive.”
She held up a hand. “I know. I know you didn't mean that. It's just me.” She tried to laugh. “I have always been an emotional mess. Who knows how many times I have already cried in front of you.” Lyra quickly wiped at her face. “You must think I'm a—”
“Ten,” he interrupted softly.
Lyra stared at him in amazement for the second time in as many minutes.
“Well, this makes eleven,” J'Kor clarified, “except the one time was faked for my mother's benefit, so that does no' really count.” A corner of his mouth turned up briefly. “And no, I most certainly do no' think you a blubbering fussbudget for it.”
“How do you even know that?”
“I remember everything you do, Lyra.” He said it without apology, and the swallowing gaze was back.
A moment more and he chivalrously changed the atmosphere. “Well, I think we are done here. Do you have any more questions?” He stood, motioning that she was free to leave.
“Uh, no. No, sir.” Lyra started to go, but she paused at the door. Since they were admitting things … “But, I was wrong about you. You are as honorable and worthy a man as I have ever been privileged to meet. For that, I owe you my life.”
She continued out quickly and went about her chores, beginning with the tea remedy for J'Kor's head. Jos'lie was soon back in. Having lost interest in filling rabbit feed bowls, she set herself up at the table with her coloring supplies, strangely quiet, except for her monotone humming. It was hard to look J'Kor in the face when he returned to discuss what he wanted from her for the afternoon, a difficulty he seemed to be sharing. The majority of their conversation was directed at the other's shoes.
“Look! Look! I finish!” Jos'lie exclaimed, trotting over to them. “See?” She shoved it into her father's face. “Us!”
Reviewing Jos'lie's artwork, J'Kor's smile was melancholy and he gave her a peck on the head. “That is very, very good, Princess, but clean up your things now so we can go to S'looth today.”
“S'looth? The park?” Jos'lie's eyes widened. At his nod, Jos'lie turned on Lyra. “Mama, we going to S'looth! Help clean up so we go?”
J'Kor left, and the picture got put on the table so Jos'lie could gather all her scattered colored pencils. As Lyra assisted, she happened to look down and her breath caught.
The family picture included four figures, remarkably individual. J'Kor was obvious as the largest and with his work boots and golden hair. Breht was next tallest, his hair scribbled slightly longer than his father's, and drawn with a noticeably missing smile. Jos'lie was easy to recognize as the smallest person in a poufed, pink dress. She had taken extra care to get the two tones of her hair right.
Then, there was Lyra, smack dab in the middle of everyone, right next to J'Kor, holding his hand. Her hair was extra long and wavy and, interestingly, Jos'lie had composed her in Breht's old leggings and her tall boots.
“Jos'lie, you did a great job drawing everyone.”
“I know,” Jos'lie innocently replied, dropping her pencils in their box. “But I no' draw my new brother and sisters yet … be-cuz I do no' know how they look.”
CHAPTER 14
Jos'lie was asleep and Breht nodding off when Kade pulled the wagon up to the house after their afternoon of fun. The fishing had been successful and Breht had even laughed and joked a bit at the park as they tried out the new climbing and play structures and bought sweet, greasy junk food that Kade rarely allowed. Jos'lie had not liked it when she realized Lyra was not coming along, but found her enthusiasm again upon reaching the town and seeing all the sights. It had been a good day.
“Lyra?” Kade called as he walked through the door holding aloft their catches. “Lyra?” He rinsed the fish and wrapped them in damp towels for the ice box.
“Lyra?” he called one more time, taking a quick look around. Nothing. All was quiet and still.
Kade went back outside, scanning his fields and garden. “Lyra?”
From behind the barn, Ahskr came bounding up for a scratch and pat. “Is Lyra that way, boy?” The dog dashed off again, zipping around the back corner to the large, unused grassy patch there. Kade followed and finally began to hear something—or someone, moving around. He peered around the corner. Wow. That woman was still surprising him.
Barefoot in the leggings and a loose fitting top, Lyra was performing some kind of practiced fighting sequence. She turned in rhythmic fashion this way and that. Spin and block. Strike. Turn. Lunge. Drop for a sweep. It was almost like dancing.
Ahskr settled down in a cool weedy patch to continue watching his mistress and Kade strolled nearer. Lyra did not seem to notice either of them, her back mostly to them, dripping in sweat from exertion and concentration, and it made Kade grin. He had never seen this style of defensive combat before. It was almost as intriguing as the woman performing the moves.
Eventually, Lyra paused as if finished. Kade approached to say hello, but Lyra suddenly turned into a spinning back roundhouse heading straight for his face! He barely managed to catch her ankle before his nose was knocked silly.
“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!” Lyra exclaimed, mortified as she deftly kept balance on her remaining foot. “I didn't realize you were there. I didn't know you were home already.”
Eyeing the length from her slim ankle caught in his grasp to her slender hip, he said with no small amount of mischief, “Is this what you meant by 'flexibility'?”
Blushing, Lyra pulled away and went for a small towel draped over a fence post, declining to answer as she dabbed at her face and neck.
“So, my first day away and you are already playing hooky from your work,” he said with a crooked grin.
“No, it's all done. I finished everything about an hour ago. Then I remembered that I haven't had a good, hard workout in a long time,” she said. She walked back to him. “I don't like to feel like I'm getting soft.”
Kade studied her a moment, then he lunged, throwing a punch.
Lyra's reflexes kicked in with a block. “Hey, what are you—?”
He advanced with another and another. The last time, she followed up with a strike to the bridge of his nose which Kade defended, capturing her forearm, but he forgot to watch for the countering body blow with her free elbow.
Oomph! Ow.
He let go of her.
“What was that for?” she demanded, skittering out of reach, still very much on guard. A chuckle wheezed out of Kade.
“I do no' think we have to worry about you going soft anytime soon.”
Lyra just growled. “Don't do that, okay? You scared me.”
“I scared you?” He had to stop laughing. It hurt.
“Yes,” she asserted. “… Did I hurt you?”
“No. I have taken a lot harder shots than that.” And Kade wasn't even talking about his military days. Sal had led him into more provoked brawls than he cared to remember.
“Well, I did check myself,” she said, a small grin emerging. “Don't want to lay out my employer on the first day of work.”
“Oh, really? That was checked?”
“I will let you try me 'unchecked' some other time, maybe,” sh
e said, smoothly backing down, though the grin remained. “I have a meal to prepare now.” With that, she spun and turned the corner of the barn.
Kade looked down at Ahskr then squatted to scratch him behind the ears. “What do you think, boy?” he said, grimacing. “Have I bitten off more than I can chew?”
Ahskr's eyes shown bright and he gave a short yip.
“Well, you do no' have to agree so readily,” Kade grumbled. “And thanks, by the way, for the vote o' confidence. Very comforting.” But he was probably due to brush up on some of his own hand-to-hand combat training, anyway.
Through the rest of the evening, Lyra seemed relieved to be calling him “my lord” again in front of the children. Kade had sensed her discomfort at his suggestion of using his first name. Certainly, calling him “sir” was more correct, as her employer, but as intimately as they had gotten to know one another in the last twelve days, “sir” just felt way too formal and distant.
At bedtime Kade gracefully endured his son's raised brow when he chose to wait outside the lavatory while Lyra was in the shower before he used it himself. He got another look after revealing the sleepover plan in Jos'lie's room.
From her bed, Jos'lie received her usual fatherly kiss goodnight, then caused a bit of consternation in Lyra when she insisted that Mama Lyra needed one too. Lyra had been brushing her hair out at the little desk.
“Good moonrise to you, too, Mama Lyra,” Kade said as he leaned over her, lifting her chin for only a brief kiss to her forehead. Lyra didn't notice the moment he took to breathe in the scent of her hair before straightening.
Later, in his own bed, Kade wrapped his arms around Lyra's pillow that he had made sure to get back before giving her another one. You are so hung up on her, you pitiful fool, it is no' even funny anymore. And with that, he buried his face in it and fell asleep.
# # #
“Good bye!” Lyra called to Jos'lie and Breht as the taxi drove them out of sight. She had insisted on working through the morning routine until the children were gone before taking the rest of the day for herself.