One Thousand Nights (23 page)

Something not unlike a sob of relief escaped my lips. I hurried forward, gaze darting this way and that as I looked for the narrow lane that would lead me to the gate on the south wall whence I had departed only an hour or so earlier. Nothing seemed familiar, but perhaps it was only because I now approached from a different direction.

I paused then in the shadow of a stately palm, one of a pair that guarded the entrance to a large home with its own wall and gate, although that gate now stood open. Pondering the best place to go next, as my current location did not jog my memory at all, I raised my hand to push a stray strand of hair away from my face.

Red flashed on my finger, and I stared at it for a few seconds, puzzled, until I realized with dawning horror that the flash of red had come from the ruby ring I wore.
I
wore…not Miram.

With a gasp, I looked down at myself, saw not the ivory tunic and skirts that were Miram’s normal costume, but my own garb of embroidered red silk with the filmy pale gold wide-legged trousers underneath. The spell had worn off.

Now I knew I must get off this street as soon as possible. Bad enough that a woman in the dress of a palace servant was wandering about alone. In this outfit, I should be recognized almost immediately — if not as the Hiereine, then at the very least as someone who had no right to be out and about without a full complement of guards.

As I hesitated there, not wanting to leave the spurious protection of the palm in its large planter of cast stone, I heard a most unwelcome voice say in incredulous tones, “Your
Majesty?
”

Knowing there was nothing else I could do, I took a step toward the speaker, lifted my chin, and said, “Good morning, Chancellor Tel-Karinoor.”

“
W
hat on earth
were you thinking?” Besh demanded, turning away from where he had stood at the window and coming to stand by me, arms crossed over his chest, brow thunderous.

“I - I wasn’t,” I faltered, my courage deserting me in the face of his very real anger.

His jaw tensed. “You weren’t thinking?”

“I — ” Damnation. I had rehearsed this speech in my mind at least a hundred times, almost from the very moment when the
visanis
saw me in the street as he left his house. Perhaps the gods knew why they had decided to twist fate and make me pause in front of the very residence that belonged to Tel-Karinoor, but they had not seen fit to pass that information along to me. At any rate, I had thought I was prepared for this confrontation. What was the worst Besh could do to me, after all? Confine me to my chambers?

We were now in his suite, in his library with the door shut. At least he had the grace to chastise me in private, and not in front of his chancellor. Perhaps it had only been my own fear and worry, but I almost thought I’d seen an expression of satisfaction cross Tel-Karinoor’s face when he confronted me in the street, as if he’d been somehow happy to catch me in such a wildly inappropriate situation. Why, I couldn’t begin to guess. For some reason, it seemed as if he had never approved of me, and I supposed anything that might make me look worse to my husband would please the chancellor.

“I merely — I needed to escape for a bit.”

“Escape? Escape to where?” His tone was not quite as rough now, but I could still hear the thrum of repressed fury within it.

“Nowhere!” I flung at him. “Anywhere! I had no true destination in mind, my husband, only that I needed to be out, away, someplace where I was not breathing the same air I had breathed a thousand times before, or staring at the same walls, or the same faces. Truly, it is enough to drive a person mad!”

To my horror, I felt tears begin to stream down my cheeks, and I put my hands up to my face to conceal my weakness, even as I pushed myself up from the chair and stumbled to the door. Where I thought I was going, I did not know, for the guards standing watch at the entrance to Besh’s suite would not let me go any farther than that without his express permission.

But then, wonder of wonders, I heard him approach, and strong arms reached out to enfold me, to pull me against him. His hand touched my hair, almost gingerly, as if he were not quite sure that I wouldn’t slap it away. “Shh,” he murmured, voice much gentler now, rich and soothing. “It is all right. I am not angry with you. It is only that you could have come to some grief, wandering about the streets like that.”

And would you care?
I wondered, but in that moment I realized that was a petty thought, and that, wonder of wonders, he must care. Surely if he were indifferent, he would not have been so angry, even though he had said he was not. At least I had been with him long enough to perceive when he was upset.

“I know, and I am sorry,” I told him, trying my best not to sniffle. “It is only when I saw the gate open, and no one watching it….” For that was the lie I had told to explain how I had gotten away from the palace grounds in the first place.

“My dear,” he said, and my heart wanted to break at those words. How I had longed for him to address me by such an endearment! What had caused his shift in attitude? That he had finally forced himself to examine his feelings when he realized he had come close to losing me? That perhaps he had taken my presence for granted, and at last saw in his heart what it might mean to him if I were not here? “Why did you not tell me how you were suffering? It was never my intention to make you feel as if you were a prisoner here.”

“I could not think of how best to talk to you. Most days, it seemed to me that you might as well have been one of those stars you watch in your telescope, thousands of miles beyond my grasp.”

His arms tightened around me, and I breathed in the wondrous scent of him, warm skin and something fragrant and spicy, as if his wardrobe had been scented with dried orange peel or something similar. “Lyarris…I am sorry for that. It was never my intention to cause you pain.”

“Then what was it?” I asked, determined to learn something of why he had held me away from him all these months. “Every day I racked my brains, trying to think of what I might have done to offend you, and how best to get you to speak with me, treat me as your wife. In the beginning, I thought perhaps we were growing closer, but….”

“That was my fault, and none of yours,” he replied, loosening his grasp so he could step away half a pace and look directly into my face. “My way of protecting myself.”

“Because of Hezia.” I did not bother to keep the bitterness out of my words.

“Yes, because of Hezia,” he said heavily. “Some wounds take a very long time to heal.”

“How much more time do you need?” I wrapped my fingers around his, gazed up into those extraordinary amber eyes. “One year? Two? Ten? Am I supposed to be patient and wait however long it takes?”

Heavy black lashes swept over his eyes as he glanced away from me. “I had told myself after her that I would never love again. Not like that. And then you came to me. They had told me you were beautiful, but I had thought that was merely a pleasant fabrication, a lie told to make the marriage contract even more appealing. But you were — you
are
— and beyond that, you are strong and wise…but not so wise that you protest staying up until all hours to look at the stars with me.”

“If I am all those things,” I said, taking care to keep my tone light, for what he had said struck at my very core, and I wanted to weep all over again, “then why this eternal distance? Simply because you would not grant yourself permission to ever care again?”

“No, it was more than that.” A long pause, as he returned his gaze to me and seemed to study my features for an endless moment. “I was told — that is, my chancellor informed me that you had been engaged in Sirlende, and that you had thrown off your betrothed as soon as you were given the opportunity to become my wife. I did not want to risk becoming close to someone whose affections could be so easily transferred, even though as time went on, it became clear to me that you were not that sort of woman at all. It was difficult for me to reconcile what I had heard with the truth of the person before me.”

The chancellor. Always the chancellor. What was his stake in all this? In truth, I could not begin to guess, for surely the welfare of the kingdom was his greatest responsibility, and doing whatever he could to keep the Hierarch and his new wife apart did not seem to agree with that responsibility at all. A ruler without an heir of his body was never good for a kingdom. Tel-Karinoor’s scheming was something my husband and I would have to discuss, but I thought it better to clear up one misconception first.

“Besh,” I said, pausing as I saw one of his rare smiles steal over his face when I used the familiar form of his name. Thank the gods. It had quite slipped out, but it seemed that he did not mind at all. “While it is true that I had to break my engagement to the Duke of Marric’s Rest to become your wife, it was not without a good deal of soul-searching. I cared for him — yes, I cannot lie and say I did not. But when I examined my feelings, I realized it was more because he was handsome and pleasant, and rather an outsider to court politics, a quality I found very appealing. It was not enough, however, to make him what I considered to be my ideal husband.”

“And
my
qualities were?” Besh inquired, mouth quirking slightly, although he did not quite smile all the way. “But you had not even met me at that point.”

It did sound rather dreadful when put that way. “True. But Ambassador Sel-Trelazar spoke so highly of you, spoke of you being a man of learning, one who did not scorn the pursuits of the mind, and I thought in that we were far better suited. If we could not have love,
real
love, I hoped at least we would share respect and friendship, which is more than many princesses can hope for in their royal matches.”

He was silent, appearing to think it over, then said, his tone almost harsh, “So you would settle for respect and friendship, if nothing else was offered? That did not seem to be your intent when you came to my apartments several weeks ago.”

“I was desperate!” I cried. “I only wanted to speak to you in private at first, but I would be lying if I said I did not want to force your hand in some way, attempt to see if you had feelings for me but were only hiding them.”

Again he said nothing. After my heart had thudded two or three times in my breast, he took my hands, turned them palm up, and pressed his lips first against the one, then the other. My blood began to race at even that gentle pressure, although I willed myself to be calm, to see what he intended to do next.

I did not have to wait long. His fingers wrapped around mine, and he pulled me up against him, his mouth seeking mine, filling me with the sweet taste of him. It was not so very different from that other kiss, in the heat and the power of it, but this time he did not push me away, only held me close, our bodies pressed together. Even through the heavy brocade of his tunic, I could feel his arousal, but it did not frighten me. No, I wanted that part of him, too. I wanted everything that he could teach me.

Eventually he did pull away, but just enough so he could speak. “I am a fool.”

“No — ” I began, and he held up a hand.

“I am, for depriving myself of that all these months. How can I ever make amends?”

“I can think of one way,” I said, casting a significant glance upward to the second floor, where I knew his bedchamber was located.

This time it wasn’t a smile that lit up his face, but an outright grin. “Ah, my lady wife, my thoughts have run in the same direction. But allow me a small opportunity to woo you — a private dinner here, with no one else intruding, and then the wedding night you should have had long ago.”

I appeared to consider. “Well, if I have already waited a year, then I suppose a few more hours will not make much of a difference.” I tilted my head to one side, then asked, “And will it not cause a fuss, for you to cancel a public dinner already planned?”

“Oh, I will not cancel that one. The guests can come, as they always do, but they will find their host conspicuously absent.”

“Very daring of you, my lord.”

He bent and kissed me again, kissed me so thoroughly that the room quite began to spin around me. I would have been content to stay there in his arms forever, his mouth against mine, but after some minutes he drew away, saying, “There is one matter that troubles me, though.”

“Only one?”

The quip did not seem to move him, for his expression remained serious. “It is not good that you found the gate open and unattended. That is an unforgivable breach of the security here at the palace, and I must have the situation investigated and the negligent parties punished.”

Oh, dear. I had hoped he would have let that particular part of my story slip by unremarked. Loath as I was to reveal the true nature of my escape from the palace, I could not allow some innocent to be punished because of my actions. And really, attitudes toward magic here in Keshiaar were not quite the same as they were in Sirlende. Therissa was in no way at risk of being punished with death, or even banishment. Besh might not completely approve of what I had done, but I knew he would not take any action against the woman who had helped me.

“As to that” — I paused, then forged on ahead— “I might not have been entirely truthful as to how I managed to get outside the palace walls.”

An eyebrow lifted. “Indeed? Then precisely how did you manage it?”

“No one left the gate open. I walked out in the company of two guards, and the guards whose duty it was to watch the gate made sure it was closed securely behind us.”

“And how did you convince the guards to simply walk through the gate with the Hiereine of Keshiaar?”

“Because they did not know it was me. They thought they were with Miram, my chatelaine.”

He rubbed his chin, watching me closely. “Explain this.”

“The woman everyone thinks is Miram is — is not Miram,” I went on, hoping I had not just made a terrible mistake in deciding to reveal her identity.

“Then who is she?”

“Her true name is Therissa Larrin, and she is aunt to the Empress of Sirlende.”

A lift of the eyebrows, and he said, “I would say that if she is such a relation, then she should have been greeted with honor…but I think that if she has managed to disguise herself so well as your chatelaine, then there is something more here than you have told me so far.”

“There is.” We were not so far apart that I could not take his hands in mine, holding them tightly, as if that contact might help to make him understand why Therissa’s and my subterfuges had been so important. “Mistress Larrin is quite an accomplished wielder of magic, specifically of illusions that alter one’s appearance. And so she took on Miram’s identity, so that she might be here for me as a friend, since….” And here I faltered, because I was not certain how to proceed without sounding either pitiable or desperate.

“Since what?” Besh prompted, his tone gentle, as if he already had begun to understand.

“Since I had none.”

His fingers closed on mine, and he pulled me close, kissing not my mouth, but my forehead, his lips lingering there for a long while before he murmured, “My dear, I am so very sorry for that. Since you had brought no ladies-in-waiting with you, I had thought you did not mind being alone — ”

“And I thought I would not, save that Chancellor Tel-Karinoor sent my Sirlendian maids away, and so I had no one from home at all.” I looked up into his face, saw only concern there…concern perhaps mixed with regret. “Mistress Larrin is the kindliest of souls, and came to provide what support she could.”

“And how is it she even knew of your predicament? For truly, all these months you have carried on with such dignity and serenity that I find it difficult to believe anyone could have looked on you and seen that you were in any distress.”