Passion of the Different (15 page)

Chapter Twenty Two - More New Friends

Every three or four days, Nera would have Ryan escorted to the same large room for supper to make small talk. He was more careful with his words, knew full well he blabbed far too much in their first meeting. Maybe it was her hair that resembled Myra's so much that dropped his guard. Maybe it was her warm nature, which he was sure could evaporate in the blink of an eye if she was inclined to cause harm. Whichever it was, he made damn sure that any small talk no longer included his goals.

It was the fourth such invitation that things changed a little bit. Four place settings instead of two waited on the table. "What's going on?" he asked the man who unlocked his wrist irons. The golden eyed guy regarded Ryan with the same caution one gives a large tame animal that might turn feral at any given moment.

"You'll know in a few minutes," he replied, still giving the same stink-eye warning the moment Ryan was completely unshackled. As he left through the door and locked it, the farther away door opened and Nera with two men walked in, all dressed casually and without armor. It took Ryan a few moments to recognize and recall their names.

Zon'Jal and Merd'Fen both gave a polite nod as they approached the table. Nera gestured impatiently for Ryan to take a seat. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he did as asked. The food smelled good and once they were all settled in, it was Merd'Fen who broke the silence.

"Zon'Jal and I thought for sure we were dead, so you have our thanks," he stated, his skinny companion nodded as he filled his plate with hot vegetables.

"They petitioned me to personally thank you," Nera added gracefully as she served herself. "I figured a moment like this would be a good time to do so."

"Never turn down a free meal," Zon'Jal added with enthusiasm. "That's my motto anyways. A pleasure it is to meet you in person, and thank you for making sure my head stayed on my neck."

"If you really want to thank me," Ryan said casually and without hesitation, "I could use your help." All three froze in their movements and he raised his hand against any coming rebuttal. "Not to worry friends. I won't ask you to betray your queen nor am I planning any escape. Just a favor."

"That's a relief," Merd'Fen replied happily as they all unfroze and finished filling their plates.

"For a moment," Nera confessed, "I thought you were about to make me eat my words to these two about your honor. What did you have in mind?"

"This is concerning the signal fire that kills my wife should it be lit," Ryan explained, his tone softened. "How is it arranged? Wood?"

"No," Zon'Jal replied, a thoughtful look on his narrow face under the splash of dark blue hair. "It's a large vat filled with rock oil. Three large mirrors adorn the edges to focus the light in the direction it needs to go. I can see where you're concerned about this, it can't be lit by accident. There's a heavy lid on top."

"I see," Ryan replied carefully, taking a sip of his juice to think a moment. "What if I asked the contents to be replaced with water? Not today or tomorrow, but when I give the word?"

Both royal guards gave each other a blank look and it was Nera who voiced the concern. "You're going to have to give us better reason than merely owing you. Lives can be lost for such a thing, more than you saved if the queen finds out it can't be lit when she commands it."

"Your queen is impulsive, quick to judge," Ryan offered calmly. Internally his heart was hammering, but he didn't let it show. He could lose whatever favor he had quickly if he screwed his explanation up. "You three know that I don't understand all your customs, and if she grew upset at me for a
misunderstanding
and gave such an order, by the time I convince her of the error my wife would be dead. As for the rock oil becoming water, do it in such a way it's a
secret
switch. Nobody needs to know how it was replaced, and it leaves me leverage to recover from
one
mistake with your queen. It's all I ask. I'll sooth her anger enough so people aren't put to death as best I can, or I'll die trying when and if it ever happens. You have my word."

They considered it in silence, and Merd'Fen leaned forward suddenly as he spoke. "Such a switch can only be
secret
if done when the guard changes from winter to summer. Nera and her unit will be returning to where your wife is staying, so nothing will come down on her if you anger our queen by mistake and she gives the order."

"As long as I'm not here," Nera confided, "I don't see any need to say anything to anybody about this. The mistake of filling it with water will be corrected when next winter sets in though, when the tubs all over the castle are refilled with fresh rock oil."

"That's fine," Ryan accepted gratefully, making an internal check on his list of things to get done before he made his final move. "When the seasons change is perfect. My deadline to make the queen pregnant is by the end of next summer. My wife and I are both dead if next winter sets in and this isn't accomplished. Or other arrangements are made between Darya and myself." He had hoped to find a way to do this during the summer, but the moment presented itself and he had acted on it with success. The rest of his secret objectives were now between him and Darya. As soon as summer started, he would put things into motion and get free of the dungeon for good.

"After this, the slate is even between us." Zon'Jal added quickly, and Ryan nodded agreement.

"Good," Nera said, relief riding her tone. "Enough of that type of talk, let's enjoy the rest of the evening meal and finish up."

"I concur," Ryan said, smiling at them for the first time since he sat down. He picked up the pitcher of juice. "Refill anyone?" he offered. Smiling back, the two palace guards offered their empty cups.

Chapter Twenty Three - Status Change

Ryan could always tell when the first day of summer started. The cold bite vanished quickly and was replaced with a hug of grass scented warm air. He often wondered what was happening in Ocaza and with the king of that land, a name he struggled unsuccessfully to recall as he had only heard it once. He also pondered who would collect the taxes today now that Avrohom was dead. To Vendegal and the rest of them, he might have merely 'vanished' without a trace. There wasn't any way for him to know until he got his wife and himself free of this nightmare.

A new group of people approached his cell instead of the breakfast crew, only one guard among them and he had the keys out and jangling into the lock. One of the brightly colored robed men stepped in and walked right up to Ryan, took a sniff and curled his upper lip. "You need a bath and fresh change of clothes," he stated unceremoniously. "Behave and all will be well. Don't behave and a certain beacon will be lit and then you'll be killed too. Understand?"

"Yes," Ryan replied easily and without concern. He had planned to be released around this time and the queen had understood the meaning of his previous hints after all, but he didn't expect the royal treatment that was in store for him.

Several servants, both male and female rushed over while fussing with measuring tapes. After they were satisfied, they rushed him out of the dungeon with amazing speed and determination. He was led to a large lavish area with a deep steaming pool of scented water. They literally shoved into it, then stripped his old worn clothes off and lathered him up as much as they dared. When one of them approached a private area, Ryan took the scrubbing cloth and took care of himself. He wouldn't let them have it back right away but there were too many hands to avoid them all.

He was doused with two tubs of rinse water and they led him out, hand dried him with quick efficient pats and then a richly adorned 'one size fits all' robe was dropped over his head. It was the same color blue as his eyes with a silver threaded outline. A dark green velvet belt with a solid gold buckle went around his waist and was clicked into place. His feet had a large pair of slippers waiting for them and he almost sighed over how good they felt as he put them on. Lavish was an understatement.

"Open your mouth, please," one of the shapely female servants asked kindly as she reached up to his face with a small device in her hand. He hesitated and she clarified for him, "I'll be punished for failure. This will only freshen your breath."

The small puff she squirted filled his mouth and sinuses with a bright mint flavor without making him sneeze or cough. Delicate yet powerful, the stuff actually made him feel refreshed. His mind raced. He knew he impressed upon Darya she needed to earn his affection, but didn't expect her to go this far and this quickly.

After a fast inspection the servants glanced at each other and nodded. Without explanation or word to him, they prodded him along gently down another corridor and around several turns. His destination grew familiar as they exited into the outdoor garden where Queen Darya enjoyed having her breakfast served.

The queen greeted him from the table with a dazzling smile, wearing a richly adorned light blue tank top and shorts that matched his robe. Her neck sparkled with a triple layered diamond choker and there was an empty chair close to her, complete with two steaming plates of various breakfast vegetables. Her blue streaked auburn hair had short braids dangling on the sides and the rest fell with a shimmering gloss around her delicate shoulders.

Her genuine warmth at seeing him reached her eyes and this bothered him, though he wouldn't let that show on his face as he returned a friendly grin. She was charismatic and absolutely stunning when she chose to be, letting her natural beauty shine through a layer of kindness. It may be false kindness but it still had an effect. If the situation had been any different and he had never met Myra, he could have been easily swayed by this siren right here and now. Remembering the pit of evil that dwelt within her helped his own resistance against those naturally powerful charms.

"May I join my queen for breakfast?" he warmly asked, using his best formal tone of respect.

"Please do," Darya's bold soprano replied, returning the formality without hesitation. In fact, she seemed extremely pleased with his display of manners. Ryan took the seat next to her and she made a satisfied shooing motion with her hand. The bundle of anxious servants flowed to the exit and quickly vanished.

Without waiting another moment, Darya rose and stepped close to him. She gazed down with hungry dark eyes and that fabulous mini-fanged smile on perfect lips, reached out her hand and gently tilted his chin up. He knew what was coming and he mustered his strength of will to endure a moment such as this. He couldn't refuse, flinch or show one iota of rejection for this level of personal involvement with her. Playing hard to get was done, now he had to shift gears and give her a measure of acceptance.

As much as he loathed her, the kiss she delivered was done with more passion than mere lust. Suave lips that tasted of strawberries slowly danced with his own, her tongue only taking the smallest polite taste. She withdrew from his mouth with a slight suckling of his bottom lip. Yes, she knew how to kiss a man and stir up his body chemistry.

She sat back down and regarded his face for a reaction.
Flatter her
, he told himself,
but not on a sexual level. Set the limits now while it's still early enough to not seem like a rejection
. "That was a beautiful gift," he told her, a well pleased sound of satisfaction in his deep baritone. "It's a remarkable way to start our courtship, though unusual with my people. In regard to both our cultures, I gladly accept this new beginning between us." His spin factory had churned out a list of fake requirements while in prison, he didn't mind modifying it as her actions fit the occasion. "Please don't refuse what I must do for you now, it's important for what you want of me."

"What's that, handsome?" she asked, pleased with his remarks. She reached for her fork. His hand gently went over and picked it up before she could.

"You must eat every bite I give you," he happily explained, packing as much sincerity into the fib as he could. "To show me that you'll grow strong and healthy and be a fit mother."

"What?" she suddenly asked, surprise robbing the sweetness from her tone. He approached her mouth with a scoop of spiced mashed potatoes from her plate and weaved the fork gently back and forth.

"Open up that gorgeous mouth and trust me, my queen," he happily nudged her with a sincere tone. "I must feed you a breakfast today, a lunch tomorrow and a dinner the following day. Allowing me to serve you in this manner is necessary. It shows you're willing to accept me on more than one level. Understand? This is more than a courtship requirement for my people. It's a level of intimacy for us, where trust and love mingle. Allow me to nourish you, my dear."

After giving him a wide-eyed blank look, she opened her mouth and he fed her the fork of spiced mashed potatoes. He glowed at her with his best happy face, truly starting to enjoy himself as he set his plans into motion. Too bad he already spilled his prepared requirements to her ears for this part. It dawned on him that if he could have over fed her at least twice a day, he could pack some fat on her too perfect body. Maybe his twisted logic could find another way to do just that over time. Then he shook it off internally as he gave her another bite, her eyes large and exploring his happy features as he pretended to love feeding her. Go too far, she will see the bullshit for what it is and everything goes to hell. No, stick to the original plan and if all goes well, Ryan and his pregnant wife will be free and back home where they belong well before the start of next winter.