One Thousand Nights (20 page)

During this speech Besh’s jaw had tightened more and more, and when I was done, he retorted, “My chancellor does what is best for the realm.”

“No doubt he does, but I fear that in this case what is best for the realm is certainly not best for that poor man being held prisoner in the dungeons.” I knew better than to reach out and lay a hand on my husband’s arm, but still I moved closer to him, so close I could almost hear the angry beating of his heart. His entire body stiffened, but he did not move away. “All I am saying is that perhaps there are some questions which should be asked. Yes, it would be wonderful to execute this man and say the threat is gone, but if he is innocent, then the threat is still present, and all you will have done is taken a life that never should have been forfeit.”

“I will speak with Tel-Karinoor on this matter,” Besh said, after a perceptible pause. “I cannot promise anything, but if it troubles you this much, then it should be addressed.”

“Thank you,” I replied simply. Whether that would change anything, I did not know, but it was better than having him dismiss my concerns outright.

“Now, if you have said your piece, I think it best that you return to your chambers. I will call for an escort.”

It was then that I saw the heavily embroidered bell pull hanging in a corner, and I knew he was about to go toward it. Before he took a step, however, I laid a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

Another of those flashes of irritation passed over his features. “My lady, it is very late. You will be lucky to get even two hours of sleep ere the sun comes up.”

“I do not care for that,” I told him, knowing if I did not seize this moment, I might very well never have the chance again.

His expression darkened, although I doubted he could guess the true reason behind my protest. “Indeed?”

“I only want one thing from you,” I went on, forcing myself to meet his gaze directly, to not look away. No, I would not beg, but I would ask in a forthright manner, as befitted a princess of Sirlende and the Hiereine of Keshiaar.

“Just one?” he asked, his eyebrow raising slightly. Now he appeared almost amused, his anger from a moment ago seeming to dissipate.

“Yes,” I said simply. “I want you to kiss me, Besh, kiss me as a husband should kiss his wife. Only that, and then, if you feel nothing, I will ask for nothing else from you.”

His entire frame seemed to go rigid, and although he did not move away from me, I could almost feel the distance between us growing wider and wider, although in truth it was only a few inches. When he replied, his voice was pitched so low that I could barely hear him. “You do not know what you are asking.”

“No, I suppose I do not, for you have made certain that I can understand nothing of what is in your heart. But mine, Besh — mine is becoming as dry and barren as the desert that stretches beyond this city. All I ask is a single kiss. Surely a man who controls Keshiaar’s riches cannot be so miserly as to deny me that one small thing?”

A heavy pause, and then he said, “Very well. And then we will be done here. Understood?”

“I understand perfectly, my lord,” I said, voice calm enough, although my heart had begun to pound in my breast. For of course I hoped that we would most certainly not be done once we had shared that kiss, that somehow my touch would help to break down the barriers he had constructed around himself.

And if it did not?

Well, I did not see how things could be any worse than they already were between us.

The windows were open, and a cool breeze blew in at that moment, sweet with night-blooming jasmine, exotic…enticing. It seemed the perfect moment to step toward him, to close the gap between us. I reached up, my arms closing around him, drawing him toward me. As our bodies touched, I realized that so little separated us. Just a few layers of thin silk, certainly not enough to mask the heat of our flesh. My breasts pressed into him, and I thought I heard him give a little groan, just before he bent down and pressed his lips against mine.

Oh, how sweet the taste of his mouth, how delicious the warmth of his skin! My entire body seemed to catch fire then, and I pushed against him, feeling how hard were the muscles touching my softer flesh. I had never experienced anything like this before, not with Thani, who I had thought I loved. I was melting into Besh, needing his touch, needing to become one with him. My fingers tangled in his heavy hair, and his hands were tightening on my shoulders, pulling me even closer, if that were possible.

How perfect his touch, how exquisite the way our bodies molded to one another’s! Surely now he would lift me from my feet, carry me into the bedchamber that lay only a few yards away from where we stood. At last we would be husband and wife, and he could finally abandon the false separation he had allowed to grow between us.

But he did not. Another groan, this one that sounded as if he had torn it from the very depths of his soul, and then he was pushing me away, his eyes blazing, muscled chest rising and falling as if he had just run a mile. I was so startled that I tripped over the trailing skirt of my dressing gown as I moved away from him and began to fall backward, the room swirling around me in a panicked blur.

And then his hand was on my wrist, pulling me back to my feet before I cracked my head on the marble floor. “Are you all right?” he asked, voice rough, quite unlike its usual elegant baritone.

I wanted to fling back at him that of course I wasn’t, not after being kissed like that and then just as quickly being rebuffed in the most brutal way possible…but I did not. No, that kiss had not been enough to change things between us. The way he had groaned, though, as if he were having a limb ripped from his body, told me that he was not quite as indifferent as he wanted me to believe. Well, that, and I did not think a man could kiss a woman in such a way and not care. Not completely, anyway.

He wanted to love me…and would not allow himself to do so.

“I am fine,” I told him, straightening my dressing gown, which had become quite disarranged. As I did so, I noticed how his gaze flickered toward my half-exposed bosom. No, definitely not as indifferent as he wanted me to believe. It was the tiniest of victories, and one I would not allow myself to enjoy. How could I, when it seemed as if nothing I said or did seemed to make the slightest bit of difference?

But, as I had told myself earlier, I would not beg. I drew in a breath, brushed my hair away from my brow, and said, “You may send for my escort now.”

D
espite my agitation
, I did manage to sleep longer than the bare two hours Besh had cautioned me about. The sun was quite bright when I finally pushed myself up from my bed and made my way to the window. Looking out, I saw that two guards now stood directly beneath my bedchamber. Their heads tilted upward as I opened the shutters all the way and took in a few breaths of the morning air, which was already beginning to warm. Since there was nothing else I could do, I smiled sweetly at them before closing the shutters again.

Obviously, Besh was not going to allow me to escape my apartments that way again.

I went and gathered up my dressing gown, then put it on. As I did so, a knock came at the door to my bedchamber, and I heard Therissa’s voice. “My lady?”

“You may enter,” I said formally, as it was late enough that I knew the other maids would be up and about.

She came in and closed the door. This was somewhat unusual, but not so much that Lila or Alina or Marsali would dare to comment upon it. No doubt they had noticed that “Miram” and I had grown much closer over the past few weeks, and that would help to explain why we might be closeted together in such a way.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?” I returned, my tone harsher than I had intended. Seeing those guards beneath my window had set me on edge. Not that I had expected Besh to do any less, but even so, their presence sent home the message that my few liberties had been even more closely curtailed. “As you can see, I am whole in body. I did not fall from the ledge, and neither was I captured by the guards. I did make my way to my husband’s apartments, and we did have…conversation…but I do not think I have changed his mind about anything.”

No, not about freeing the man currently being held in the dungeons, nor about having the courage to recognize me as his wife.

Therissa’s face fell, but she said stoutly, “I would give it time, my lady. Your husband is the sort who needs to think things over before he makes up his mind, and you only spoke with him a few hours ago. No doubt he is reexamining the matter and will come to a decision in time. You must be patient.”

Ah, patience. Mine seemed to have quite run out, even though in the past I would never have described myself as a hasty woman, or one given to making quick decisions herself. The heat of Besh’s kiss seemed to linger on my lips, and I found myself wanting more of that, more of him. I wanted him to stop with his infernal brooding and understand that his heart was quite safe with me.

If Therissa and I had been more intimate — if we were more of an age, as Ashara was with her friend Gabrinne — perhaps I would have related everything that had passed between Besh and myself. But I found I could not speak of how he had kissed me, and then pushed me away. It hurt too much, and I did not want to see her pity. Not now, anyway, while the wound was still fresh.

“I will try,” I said. “I did what I could. Now we will just have to wait and see if Besh heard anything of what I had to say.”

Her expression was uncharacteristically sober, but then she brightened a bit, saying, “And in the meantime, I think I will do a little information-gathering. By now everyone has become accustomed to me in this guise, and if ‘Miram’ is now a little friendlier than she used to be, no one has remarked much upon it. So striking up a conversation here and there might be just what we need to gain some additional insights.”

I wasn’t quite so sure, although I did have to admit that Therissa had a way about her which seemed to encourage people to share confidences. In the meantime, what could it hurt? Her disguise was flawless, as was her command of the Keshiaari tongue; I supposed all her travels had stood her in good stead there, and Ambassador Sel-Trelazar had no doubt given her a few private lessons.

Smiling despite myself at that notion, I replied, “Yes, I think that would be a very good idea. For too many months, I have had to muddle along with no way of knowing more about my husband, or why he acts the way he does. Even if I am not sure now how I may use such information, it is better that I have it, so at least in the future I might be able to use it to assist me.”

She nodded, and then clapped her hands, calling in the other maids to prepare me for my day. I knew it was her way of making sure that no one would think we had spent too much time closeted together, and so I suffered the intrusion of Lila and Alina and Marsali with no further comment. In truth, it felt strange for them to spend so much time preparing me for an audience I would never have; yes, I would be in company at dinner, but they would change my garments for that public appearance, and so what I wore now was in reality of very little importance. But I supposed we all had to do what we could to justify our existence, even if such actions felt very silly in the end.

“Miram” disappeared sometime during this procedure, but I did not worry at her defection. Rather, I was glad, for I thought she had gone to pursue her “information-gathering,” as she had referred to it, and I wanted to hear what she would have to say when she returned. In the meantime, I had to do my best to set my expression in placid lines, attending to the neglected writing on my desk as if it were the only thing to concern me, and doing everything I could to not dwell on the pressure of Besh’s lips on mine, or the heat of his body as it had pressed against me. I thought then that perhaps I had done myself a disservice, to force such intimacy between my husband and me, for now I found I could not stop thinking of it.

Even in my despair, I could not help wondering whether that kiss filled his thoughts as well….

If my maids noticed anything amiss, I could not tell from either their expressions or their actions. Even if they did, it was not their place to draw attention to my moods, and so I labored away at my writing, even as they endeavored to take measurements of the draperies currently in place so that the new ones would fit correctly. I had to turn a deaf ear to what they were doing, or surely it would have distracted me from the few lines I was able to scratch out in my manuscripts.

At last, though, Therissa returned, dignified and proper as always in her guise of Miram, but something in the look she shot me as she entered my chambers told me that her “fact-finding” mission had not been unfruitful. Our gazes met, and then shifted to the three maids as they busied themselves with cutting panels of the claret-colored silk to make the new set of curtains. Since they were so well-occupied, I did not know how Therissa would manage to get them away so we might speak properly…but I soon realized that I had underestimated her.

“That is all very well and good,” she said, surveying them at their work. “But you will have cut all these panels and made no provision to stitch them together. Do you have any thread that matches this fabric?”

The three of them exchanged panicked looks, telling me that indeed they had not considered such a thing.

“As I thought,” Therissa went on. “Cut a discreet swatch, and then take it with you to the storerooms.”

“All — all of us?” ventured Marsali, the most forthright of the three.

“Yes, all of you,” Therissa returned at once. “For it is very important that the color match exactly, and I cannot trust only one of you to make the correct choice. With all three of you involved, I have a better hope that you might be able to pick something that is close.”

If they had wished to argue further, one look at Therissa’s face seemed to tell them that such protests would be useless. Marsali bent her head, murmuring, “Of course,” even as Alina took up her scissors and cut the most discreet of swatches from one edge of a scrap of fabric. Then they pressed their hands together and bowed at the waist toward me, just before scampering to the door so they might travel to the storerooms and match the fabric as best they could.

Yes, the most mundane of tasks, but one that allowed them some freedom to move about the palace. I found I could not judge their eagerness too much, for I thought I would feel much the same way if given a similar opportunity. Indeed, I could not help experiencing the slightest pang of jealousy at the way they were able to slip so easily out of the suite and go about their business. I knew I would be stopped the second I attempted to set foot outside my quarters. Sad, that my maids had freer rein to move about the palace than I, the woman who was supposed to be its mistress.

“Well?” I said, after I had ascertained that they were truly gone. “I suppose it is too much to ask that you might have gleaned something of any importance in so short a time, but I cannot help hoping you might have found a few tidbits to whet my appetite.”

“More than that,” she said, dark eyes gleaming. “I had already begun to cultivate something of a friendship with the under-cook, who — for reasons I cannot quite understand — has developed feelings of some sort for Miram. Perhaps he merely wishes to take her away from all this.”

“A noble ambition,” I noted in dry tones. “So what did this under-cook have to say?”

“A good deal. He has worked here in the palace since he was a boy, and is some ten years older than the Hierarch. One thing you may not know, even if you do know that your husband has a brother, is that they are twins.”

“Twins?” I echoed. Truly, this was surprising news. In our brief discussion on the topic, Besh had never let on to me that the brother who had betrayed him so heinously was also his twin.

“Yes,” said Therissa. “Your husband was the elder by some fifteen minutes, and so of course he was the heir. But their mother was so overtaxed by the ordeal of delivering twins that she died only a few days after her sons were born, and the Hierarch — your husband’s father — never sought to replace her.”

Such devotion was commendable, I supposed, but I couldn’t help thinking that it was rather hard luck for me to marry into a family so fixed on its former spouses. “He must have loved her very much,” I said, my tone as neutral as I could make it.

To my surprise, Therissa looked almost embarrassed. She fidgeted with her sleeve, her gaze not meeting mine. “As to that,” she replied, “it seems — that is, the late Hierarch was one who preferred the company of men to that of women.”

This information took me rather aback, for I had never before heard of such a thing. If any of the men in Sirlende had such proclivities, they did a good job of hiding it. Or at least, hiding it around the royal family. “Indeed?” I inquired, hoping that I sounded calm and not at all shocked. A sudden notion came to me, and though I did not truly believe it, not after the way Besh had kissed me, I added, “Then perhaps that explains some of my husband’s indifference to me. If he is at all like his father — ”

“Oh, I assure you, he is not. For everyone knows how passionately devoted he was to Hezia, although she did not deserve such affection. And, Lyarris, as I have told you before, I have seen how he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. If his…desires…lay elsewhere, he would not regard you in such a manner.”

This relieved me somewhat, although once again I felt a stir of impotent fury at hearing of how much Besh had loved Hezia. What had it been about her, to inspire such devotion? Could a man ever truly recover from having his heart broken in such a way?

I knew, somewhere deep within my soul in a place I did not want to acknowledge, that I would take even a fraction of what Besh had felt for Hezia. Better to have some part of him than none at all. But he did not seem willing to give me even that much.

“And did this under-cook have much to say of the exalted Hezia?” I asked, not attempting to keep the bitterness from my tone. “For truly she must have been a veritable paragon.”

The sad expression on Therissa’s borrowed features told me that she heard my pain all too clearly. “She was very beautiful, true. She was the daughter of one Prince Sel-Meladir, a cousin to the former Hierarch. They had been promised since children, and His Most High Majesty loved her even before he married her. But his is not the sort of temperament given to constant flattery and fawning — ”

“That much is certain,” I injected, chuckling a little despite myself. Truly, if Hezia had expected a husband who worshipped at her feet and praised every little thing she did, then no wonder she had found some disappointment in her marriage and ended up transferring her attentions to her brother-in-law.

Therissa attempted to appear disapproving, but instead smiled slightly before continuing. “Yes, the Hierarch is a man of a more serious mind, far better suited to having a wife such as you, my lady, who are a scholar in your own right. And so, although no one knows much about precisely what happened, it seems she fancied herself in love with Amael Kel-Alisaad, your husband’s brother. Apparently he was a more easygoing sort, given to pleasure and frivolous pursuits, and able to provide Hezia with the sort of uninterrupted attention she desired.”

“And because he was Besh’s twin, when Hezia became with child, no doubt they thought they could conceal the baby’s true parentage because she would resemble him either way.”

“No doubt,” Therissa said. “Not that Aldul — the under-cook — phrased it in that manner. There are limits to what can be said, even in gossip between two servants. But it seems clear enough that was their plan. How the affair was finally discovered, I do not know, for Aldul either did not know himself, or did not want to say. But it was, and so Hezia lost her life, and Amael was banished, for even though he had offended the crown mightily, it is against the law here for a commoner to spill royal blood, and it was asking too much to have the Hierarch be his brother’s own executioner.”

“I know, for Besh told me that very thing when he — reluctantly, of course — told me something of the story.”

That surprised her. “So you knew the details?”

“Some of them. When I discovered Amael’s daughter…or rather, she discovered me…I had several questions for my husband.”

“I am sure of that. So you have met the child.”

“Only once. Besh told me he could not be certain she was his, and so she is being raised in every comfort, but since no one can be sure of her parentage, she is not treated as a true child of the Hierarch.”