Especially when one of them was ruler of half a continent and required to wear ridiculously ostentatious clothing for a hideously enormous number of occasions. Kallista hid her shudder. She understood the need to impress, but she could only go so far. And she could only wait so long.
When the servants stopped bringing in more bundles and trunks from the courtyard and began opening them to remove the contents, Kallista decided she had waited long enough. “Out!"
She clapped her hands to get their attention, then waved them to the doors. “That's enough unpacking. Go find food. Arrange for baths. Go away from here."
“There are gardens.” The head of the nursery servants, gestured toward an enclosed courtyard beyond gauze-draped doorway openings. “The children can run."
“Take them. Go.” Kallista ruffled River's hair as he rushed by. “Make noise. Have fun. When the food arrives, we'll come out and join you. No, Keldrey. Stay, please."
The children flowed away. The servants departed. Bodyguards disposed themselves at entrances and windows and courtyard walls. When she was at last as alone with her ilian as she was ever allowed to be, Kallista stretched.
“I don't remember aching like this the last time we traveled in caravan.” She groaned as Obed dug his fingers into her aching shoulders. She had felt ...
off
since they'd left Arikon. Not bad, exactly, just
wrong
somehow. It had to be the worry. What else could it be?
“We were younger then, love.” Torchay winked at her. “We've reached forty. It changes things."
“Speak for yourself.” Stone sent a cushion flying across the room at the red-haired man, who caught it and sent it flying back. “Some of us haven't reached thirty yet."
“Stop reminding me,” Keldrey grumbled. “Some of us are older than all of you.” He and Leyja were nearing the half-century mark.
Kallista shivered, suddenly cold, though the air was scarcely cooler inside these thick walls than out under the sun. Now that they had arrived, the reality of the pretense they would be forced to live in this place was sinking in. As long as they'd been on the road from the coast, it had been almost a game, something they played at during the journey. But now, here, a slip could result in the collapse of all their plans.
“Torchay—” she began.
“Where
is
Leyja?” Fox asked. “I heard the noise, but I was too far back to tell what happened, except for people running in all directions."
“Here.” Leyja walked in, hatless and coated with dust—more than the rest of them who had taken the chance to shake off the worst of it.
“Where'd you go?” Keldrey demanded. Kallista let him, willing to put off the awful discussion a little longer.
“Thief chasing.” Leyja found the water carafe on the low central table, poured and drank. She told them of Rozite's disobedience and her own adventure in a few succinct words.
“So where did you stash this thief?” Stone peered around the room, as if suspecting her of hiding him in a corner.
Leyja scowled, slamming her cup down hard enough to dent the thin metal. “He got away."
Everyone stared, shocked. No one escaped Leyja, unless they were very, very good indeed.
Kallista sighed. “I suppose we should see about getting a copy of the necklace made. Rozite will be impossible if she never gets the thing back."
“See if he brings it for ransom first.” Leyja collapsed onto the nearest divan, sprawled out in weariness. “I offered."
“You think he understood?” Stone collapsed next to her.
Leyja shrugged. “At least, since it's been confiscated, I'll have time to find it before I have to tell Rozite I got her necklace stolen."
“Rozite got her own necklace stolen by wearing it when she was told not to.” Kallista perched on the edge of a round upholstered stool. “But you're right. It's been taken up. She doesn't have to know it's missing. Not yet."
She sighed. The diversion was over. “While we have a moment to ourselves—” She tried to sound casual, but knew she failed miserably when every head turned toward her, every body tensed, drifted closer. They all sat, as if awaiting some news too awful to receive standing.
“We have to be careful,” she said. “You
know
how things are here, without iliani."
“We know.
Believe me,
we know.” Stone made a face, eliciting a few chuckles. “I don't like sleeping alone. And I especially don't like doing without—"
At Kallista's upraised hand, he broke off, changed direction. “Without other things,” he finished.
“We're alone in this room, but how alone are we?” She indicated the room with its pierced stone tracery and wall hangings that servants were meant to lurk behind. “We brought as many servants with us as we could, as we needed for the journey, but more were hired locally. Every one of those local servants is a Daryathi spy—perhaps not bearing tales to the en-Kameral, but to their neighbors, their local prelate. Tales about the scandalous behavior of wicked Adarans. We need to be careful. More than we are used to being. More than we have been."
“Goddess.” Torchay swore a few more choice oaths. “It was me, wasn't it? I did it. I said—I called you—I'm sorry, Kallista. I didn't think—” That one word, one endearment—
love
—at the wrong time could ruin everything.
“No, you didn't think—” Obed stopped when Kallista touched his arm.
She spoke for his ear alone. “It's going to be hard enough. Don't make it worse."
Obed put on that perfect blank-face he did so well, hiding his emotions, but he subsided. Kallista couldn't read anything through the link either. Having grown up in Daryath, Obed had struggled with jealousy from the beginning. Jealousy that tended to focus on Torchay because of the years the bodyguard had spent at her side before ever the godmarked magic struck. Would it become a problem again?
She looked up at Torchay. She wanted to hold him, tell him his mistake didn't matter, that he could call her “love” all he wanted. But it did matter, and he couldn't call her that or any other sweet name, couldn't touch her even in passing because if he did, she would be touching him back, and more. She sent as much love down the link to him as she could.
“We have to remember
at every moment
that things are different here. We might be able to share quarters because we are bound as godmarked, but here, we cannot all be married together.” She kept her voice quiet, reinforced the sense of what she said through the links. She couldn't speak through the links, save to Joh when she was seeing through his eyes, or when the others were dreaming together with her, but she could send a sort of knowledge. “Here, we are
paired
."
And the pairing made things awkward. Over the past years as the ilian settled in to their ordinary life, they had formed smaller groupings within the whole. Sometimes they changed around or all ten of them came together, but generally, Kallista slept between Obed and Torchay, Viyelle with Stone and Joh, and Aisse, Fox, Keldrey and Leyja all together. But threes and fours were as frowned upon in Daryath as tens.
“Obed is my only mate here,” Kallista said. “And Torchay is my bodyguard only, not ilias. Viyelle and Joh, Aisse and Fox, Leyja and Keldrey. You know this. We worked this out together. If we are going to pry our people out of the hands of the Habadra Line, we are going to have to play their games—"
“Do not think of them as games,” Obed interrupted. He spoke quietly, his voice fervent. “The attitude here against iliani, against more than two in a marriage is so strong that people have been killed. Traders who are incautious have been slaughtered in the countryside, and even here in Mestada. As members of the Adaran diplomatic mission, we are exempt from Daryathi law, but
not
from Daryathi prejudice. As servants to the Habadra, Merinda and her child
are
under Daryathi law until their status is changed. They could refuse to return them to wicked blasphemers. Or worse. We dare not risk them."
Kallista took up her warning again. “Do
not
forget who you're paired with. Especially you, Stone. Since you claim Sky as your son, that means Merinda is your mate."
They had no idea what Merinda had named the boy, nor whether he was Stone's child in truth or another of Fox's, but they couldn't keep calling him “the boy.” Stone, with consultation from Fox, had named him Sky.
“It is
hard,
I know, and not what we are used to. I miss you, all of you, more than I can say, even though you are right here with me, because I must watch my words and my actions.” The catch in her voice stopped her for a moment. “The One willing, we will have our ilias and our son back with us soon. Once that is done, it won't matter so much what gossip the local servants spread. Then, if there is a demon here to destroy, we will do that, and we can go back home. But until then—
be careful
."
Kallista watched Torchay until he looked up and met her gaze. The sadness in his eyes at their separation tempted her to throw aside every caution she'd just spoken. Except—they still had their lost ones to consider—Merinda, and their son.
Chapter Four
The food arrived, and the meal in the shade of the vines and flowering trees with the children clamoring around did much to restore the mood. Baths immediately following did more.
The enormous sunken stone pools, similar to the smaller ones in the lower levels of Summerglen palace in Arikon, were obviously meant for more than one person. Once the children were clean in a massive orgy of splashing and dunking, their parents bathed in pairs, in an attempt to reinforce Kallista's reminder.
Obed waded into the steaming water and turned, too late to watch Kallista get in as he'd hoped to do. She slid all the way under, her hair floating out in a dark swirl, hiding her. Finally, just as he was about to worry, she came up, air bursting from her lungs as she dragged in fresh.
“I was beginning to wonder if I ought to pull you out.” He moved in behind her to press a kiss on her nape, hungry for the feel of her skin against his. The journey upriver had been devoid of opportunity and he'd missed her.
Kallista eased away. “I think the dirt has gone an inch deep into my skin.” She picked up the soap, its scent carrying him back to his childhood with its fears and anxieties. But she turned to rub the soap over his chest, her fingers moving over his skin, so it was all right again. She was touching him. He didn't mind washing first, especially if she wanted to wash him.
“Perhaps the dust is an inch-deep coating on the outside.” Obed captured her hands and chuckled at her expression as he rubbed his chest against the softness of her breasts, sharing the soap. “I like washing this way."
Kallista's chuckle sounded strained, as if it caught in her throat. “I'm too dirty to get clean this way. Turn around."
Rather than wait for him, Kallista turned him, washing his back and body with brisk efficiency. Obed wanted more, but at least she washed him. Touched him. She did love him. He was sure of it. She washed his shoulder-length hair, letting him lean his head against her breasts. And she let him wash her without rushing, allowing him to take his time. Somewhat. He could sense her impatience, so didn't linger as long as he would have liked. Others were waiting their turn.
They were out of the bathing pool, drying themselves with vast lengths of cotton toweling, when Obed opened his towel and wrapped Kallista in it with him. She shivered, softened as he pressed his damp-hot body to her damp-cool one and touched his lips to that spot just under her ear. Goddess, he wanted her. But when he brushed his kiss over her mouth, she flinched away.
Obed broke from her, whirling, his temper sending his towel flying in a flat, fluttering arc to land crumpled against the wall. “Goddess, Kallista, what now?"
“I just—I can't, Obed."
“Why in hell not?” He spun to face her, clenching his fists against the urge to lash out, break something. There was nothing here to break. “I am your mate. Your husband. I've missed you on this journey, Kallista. I need you. Can't you see how much?"
“Stop it!” Her voice snapped with anger, but her eyes flicked to his screaming erection, making it shout at him all the louder. “Just stop it. I don't need this now. You're
not
my husband. You're
ilias.
So is Torchay. And Stone. And while they're—If they don't—If we—I just
can't,
Obed. It doesn't feel right.” Her anger faded into confusion and distress.
Obed had his own anger and distress. He propped hands on hips. Kallista's eyes flicked toward him again, then turned stubbornly away.
He fought the growl wanting out of his throat. “If they do not get sex, then I don't either? Is that what you're saying?"
Kallista's head tilted, as if she thought it over. “More me than you,” she said after a moment. “That
I
don't. But I suppose—yes, that's right."
Need swelled to desperate levels. He had to change her mind. “They don't mind the magic sex."
She shook her head. “It's not the same. You're right about that.” She clutched her towel to her, as if she feared he might attack her.
The way he felt, he just might. How could he persuade her? “Taking a lover who is not your mate is a common practice in Daryath.” He struggled to keep his voice quiet, to keep her from sensing how much he needed her. “So common, it is expected. No one will be surprised that Torchay is your lover. In fact, many will believe it, no matter how strongly we might deny it."
“Then—” she frowned “—why all the fuss about the evils of iliani if they are doing the same thing?"
“Because they can pretend.” He clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying anything else. Would this work? Would it get her under him? Or on top of him? He didn't care what position, as long as he got inside her.
“What are they pretending?"
Obed didn't want to say, but silence was as much a lie as untrue words. “That they are true to their mate, that the lover is nothing to them. The lover is a secret hidden away in the dark. But everyone knows."
“That sounds—” Kallista shuddered, as if shaking away his words. “Awful. Shameful. Doesn't it shame both lover
and
mate?"