The Diplomat (28 page)

“This is supposed to be a happy moment.” Ormun frowned at his whip, as if surprised to find himself holding it, before returning it to his belt. “Rema, can I trouble you to take her away until she’s recovered from her fright? I have matters to attend to, and poor Sothis is looking quite distressed. Perhaps we might attempt this again tomorrow.”

“Of course.” Rema shivered despite her best attempts to compose herself. “I’ll return to you tomorrow with a much happier bride.”

“Good! Don’t forget your clothes.” Ormun raised Elise’s hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She stared at him, her eyes blank behind her tears. “You’re a striking woman, Elise, and I look forward to the day we are man and wife. But do take care to listen to Rema as she explains to you how to properly behave. You will give her that explanation, won’t you?”

Rema nodded. She was capable of nothing more. Her limbs were weak, and it felt as if she might collapse at any moment.

“You’re smarting, aren’t you? Please get those wounds seen to, I’d hate for them to fester. Well, you may go. It’s such a joy to see you again, you have no idea!” Ormun turned and spread his arms. “Haran, Sothis, you scoundrels, where were we?”

Elise hurried to gather Rema’s clothes, and she steadied Rema as they moved into the courtyard. As Elise closed the door, Rema lurched toward a stone bench intended for visitors. She lay across it and closed her eyes. Her back sang a chorus of suffering.

“I’m so sorry,” said Elise, her voice broken and shaking. “I did this to you, I should have listened…”

“Yes, you should have.” Rema pressed her cheek to the stone, hoping that the chill might distract her from the pain.

Elise knelt beside Rema and clutched her hand. “Do you want me to take you to the healers?”

“Forget them.” It was a wonder Rema could still speak, given the sharp-clawed monster hunched on her back. “You’re my healer, Elsie. Did you bring medicine in your trunk?”

“Yes, a little.”

“Then numb this pain so that I can put on my shirt.” There was no way to know if Ormun took a carnal thrill from stripping women and subjecting them to pain—that mind was beyond deciphering—but there was no doubting Haran had found titillation in it, and that fact magnified her indignation a hundredfold. And it could so easily have been Elise naked and screaming under that whip…

Rema’s anger settled into cold determination. She would never let that happen.

Elise spread an ointment over the wound, and a welcome coolness extinguished the worst of the flame. “I’m so stupid. It was all because I was jealous that woman kissed you. I dream night and day of kissing you, and she did it as if it were the easiest thing in the world.”

Rema lifted her head as Elise held a vial to her mouth. She sipped the liquid, and a tingling sensation entered her limbs. “Is there much bleeding?”

“The second strike drew a little. Ormun was very precise.”

Rema sat upright and struggled into her shirt, grimacing as the fabric flattened against her tender back. “The blood never washes out. That’s two shirts ruined.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Elise settled beside Rema on the bench. “You suffered so that I wouldn’t have to. I’m an idiot and a coward.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Blame him.”

“I do.” Elise tightened her hands into fists. “He’ll pay for that. He’ll suffer like no man has ever suffered.”

“You can vent your wrath later.” Rema touched Elise lightly on the cheek. “For now, let’s just catch our breath and be glad that we’re still alive.”

“I was so cruel to that beautiful little woman. Her exquisiteness made me feel so homely, and you gave me no warning that you had a lover.”

“You’re every bit as beautiful as she,” said Rema, glancing into the corridor as she spoke. “We can’t talk here, not like this. We should go to my chambers. They’re not far.”

“There’s just one thing that confuses me. You called him brother, but surely that can’t be…”

“That’s a long story that requires a clear mind to tell. Will you help me up?”

Elise nodded, and she aided Rema to her feet before taking the handle of the trunk. They walked together, Rema often stumbling and pausing to regain her balance. “It’s so quiet,” said Elise as they moved down an echoing hall decorated with curling sandstone columns.

“It becomes quieter by the day. After the coup, many of the officials were never replaced. Their families, assistants, students, all of them gone. Ormun believes he can make do with his own delusions and a handful of advisors who are always at each other’s throats.”

“What about servants?”

“There are few, mostly kitchen staff and errand runners. The majority of the work is done now by slaves, who work in the early morning while the court sleeps. Ormun likes the palace to seem as if maintained by an invisible hand. Up this little flight of stairs here, come.”

Each marble step was wrought with patterns reminiscent of clouds, and at the head of the balustrade rested a marble sculpture of a lion’s head, its lips curled in a snarl. “There’s nothing plain in this place, is there?” said Elise, following Rema up the stairs.

After navigating another ornate corridor, they reached a broad door within a thin marble arch. “My chambers,” said Rema. “It should be unlocked, if Artunos has been here already.” She tested the handle and exhaled in relief as it turned. “Here we are.”

The window of Rema’s bedchamber overlooked one of the palace’s inner gardens, and dwindling evening light filled the room. Her large bed was heaped with velvet pillows, and a thick, intricately-styled rug covered much of the stone floor. One wall was taken up by a fireplace stocked with fresh logs. “Do you ever have to light that?” said Elise, peering up the chimney. “It’s so warm here.”

“I find I need it, but you’ll probably be able to walk about naked in our winter.”

The cicadas began their shrill chirping in the garden below. In less than an hour, the air would be thrumming with the noise of insects. Rema crossed to the window and inhaled the blossom-steeped taste of the evening. Even though the afternoon had long waned, the day’s heat still lingered in the air, bringing with it pleasant memories of hours spent idle under the sun. Her back pulsed again, and she steadied herself against the sill.

“I have to lie down,” she said, retreating to the bed and reclining on her side.

Elise sat among the pillows and lifted Rema’s head into her lap. “We need to get the rest of my luggage here, with all my books and supplies. Not just to treat you, but to take care of him.”

“I’d be careful what you do.” Rema pressed her cheek against the soft, warm curve of Elise’s stomach. Now here was a sufficient compensation for so much pain. “Ormun has a court magician of his own. I still don’t understand how this magic of yours works, but I expect he has ways of protecting Ormun from whatever you have in mind.”

“There must be something we can do. Rema, this is ridiculous. You want us to see him again tomorrow and curtsy? We’re better than that, my love. We have to fight.”

“I know. And my back hurts again. Make it stop.”

“Endure a little.” Elise stroked the back of Rema’s ear. “Too much medicine at once won’t be good for you.”

Rema closed her eyes, and drowsiness spiraled toward her. The pain became a memory and faded, replaced by a sense of being held and comforted, and for a moment she glimpsed the faces of her mother and father—they were afraid for her, but proud, too, of the stand she’d taken. The images washed away, and her mind faded with it.

Chapter Twenty

Rema opened her eyes. The room was suffused by a dim red light. A chorus of insects piped outside the room, whirring their wings and celebrating the coming night. The warmth of Elise’s body was still behind her head. How long had she slept in her lap?

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, their sound mixed with a familiar jingling. The door swung open to reveal Jalaya’s frightened face. “Rema! Haran has been telling everyone you were whipped…oh, hello…”

“Come in, Jalaya,” said Rema. “I’m well enough for visitors.”

Jalaya sidled into the room and closed the door, her bright eyes switching between Elise and Rema, whose head was still in Elise’s lap. A single wrinkle of bemusement appeared between Jalaya’s eyebrows. “Elsie is a healer,” said Rema. “She’s taking care of me.”

Jalaya smiled as if that were explanation enough. “I hope you’re not badly hurt.” She eyed the bed, clearly trying to determine how to appropriately involve herself, before finally sitting cross-legged beside Elise and placing a hand on Rema’s shoulder. In response, Elise began to defiantly stroke Rema’s hair.

“Maybe I should lie across both your laps,” Rema said, smiling at the absurdity of the competition. “It would seem fairer.”

“As your healer, I advise against being across more than one lap,” said Elise, and Jalaya replied with a peal of melodious laughter. Elise’s frown wavered—unsurprisingly. It would take a stern soul indeed to be immune to the sound of Jalaya’s merriment.

Rema sat upright and winced as her back straightened. “Are you in much pain?” asked Jalaya.

“I’ll be fine. Elsie has cared for me well.”

Jalaya took one of Elise’s hands and pressed it to her chest. “Thank you for treating Rema. I hope you don’t blame yourself for what happened.”

Elise’s cheeks colored, and Rema’s chest panged with unexpected jealousy. Jalaya was so very beautiful, after all, and much younger—but no, those thoughts were absurd…

“Of course I blame myself,” said Elise. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Haran said he thought you very amusing. Even though it was unwise to talk back to Ormun, everyone is impressed by how brave you were to do so. I don’t know anyone except Rema who has the courage to do that.”

“She’d better not do it anymore,” said Rema. “Or my back will be nothing but scar tissue by the end of the month.”

“Don’t worry about your back.” Elise stared at her hand, which was being held very close to Jalaya’s left breast. “I know what I’m doing.”

Jalaya rested her other hand on Elise’s knee. “You look a little flushed yourself. Was it a difficult voyage?”

“Very difficult.” Elise’s gaze moved down Jalaya’s body. “A painted man knocked on my door exactly when he shouldn’t have.”

Jalaya wrinkled her forehead. “How terrible of him.”

Rema frowned. She was starting to feel left out. She stretched across Elise’s lap and poked Jalaya in her small, soft stomach. “If you want to be useful, you could fetch me some water and perhaps something for us both to eat.”

“Of course, beloved.” Jalaya leant forward and, oblivious to Elise’s scowl, planted a kiss on Rema’s lips. She smiled again at Elise and left the room, her skirt shifting as she moved.

“I can’t stop her kissing me,” said Rema, taking Elise’s hand. “She’s too quick.”

Elise moved her lips in a rueful smile. “It still hurts to see her kiss you, but she’s so sweet, isn’t she? And even prettier than I remembered.”

“Many reckon her to be the most beautiful woman at court. Though now you’re here, I’m sure plenty will reconsider.”

“Oh, I think she keeps her title. Perhaps I should be jealous of you instead!”

Rema frowned as doubt prodded her heart once more. She’d been so concerned that Elise would envy Jalaya, it had never crossed her mind the two might be attracted to each other. That possibility seemed so obvious to her now. With her wild looks and passionate heart, Elise was exactly the kind of woman liable to leave Jalaya smitten.

“Now we’re alone, enlighten me,” said Elise. “Have you truly been hiding a lover from me, or is this not what it appears?”

“It’s a little of both. At court and in the city, there are many women with whom I enjoy sleeping. Among those, Jalaya is the dearest to me. We kiss, touch and caress each other with the ready intimacy of lovers, but there are no vows between us. My heart is unsworn to anyone.”

“So you live in indiscriminate lust. Why did you never tell me?”

“Did you honestly believe me to be chaste?”

Elise’s chuckle did a great deal to ease Rema’s apprehension. “I suppose you have a point. You were even seen flirting with the servant women, Loric told me.”

“These handsome trousers rarely stay buttoned for long. I enjoy women too much to ignore their interest. But when I swore I loved you—that was unlike anything I’ve ever done.”

Elise exuded satisfaction, and Rema relaxed further. Perhaps the worst of this matter was now behind them. “Tell me how you met her,” said Elise. “This lovely Jalaya of yours.”

“It was five years ago, when I was visiting a brothel—don’t raise your eyebrows like that, I was on business.”

“What kind of business could you possibly have in a brothel? Apart from the obvious.”

“Togun and I were trying to reform them. Too many prostitutes in Arann were held against their will, shipped about from city to city like slaves.”

“Sorry.” Elise laughed. “Don’t look so offended. Go on.”

“I was interrogating the owner when I heard a beautiful voice lifted in song. I demanded to know who the singer was. Reluctantly, the man showed me to Jalaya, who was sitting among silken pillows and crooning a sad melody to herself.” Rema sighed, remembering. “She was only nineteen. I asked her why she was there, and she told me that her father had sold her against her will. A few days later I had her installed at court in the much happier life of a palace entertainer.”

“Poor Jalaya. Did she…I mean, did anyone…”

“She’d been there three weeks, and she’d fought like a cornered animal. The one time they tried to force her to sleep with a patron, she bit him on the nose. But though she managed to escape that indignity, she didn’t evade the torment of being repeatedly punished. She was bruised all over, the poor thing, and her lip was split.”

“And when did you two start…?”

“Not straightaway. At first she was lost and frightened, and it would have felt as if I were taking advantage of her. I comforted her and let her dine with me. I enjoyed those innocent nights together, basking in her sweetness, and we quickly became true friends. About a year after she’d moved to court, we had our usual dinner together, and afterward she kissed me. Now we share our bodies as well as our joys and sorrows.”