Bride by Command (12 page)

THAT
had not been in the plan. Jahn ran down the stairs, catching the eye of the senior sentinel on duty. At a nod, the man rose and hurried to meet his emperor.

Did these sentinels, like Morgana, consider him to be a poor emperor who had done nothing to earn his position? Did they see him as a wastrel, a worthless ruler, a lucky bastard? He did his best in the position he had fallen into, but in truth he had not done anything to earn his place in the palace. He was in power thanks to the blood in his veins and nothing more. Were his best efforts at proving worthy good enough?

“She does not leave the tavern tonight,” Jahn said tersely as the sentinel neared.

“But, My Lord, if she . . .”

“I don’t care if you have to physically restrain her, she will not leave!” Jahn snapped, his passions and fury roused on so many levels he did not dare to ponder them all. He was almost certain it had been his sentinels following Morgana this afternoon, but if he was wrong, if she was in danger thanks to his little game, he would never forgive himself.
Almost certain
was not good enough.

The sentinel bowed in compliance, and Jahn pushed his way into the early evening air, taking a deep breath and slowing his pace. Though he did not think anyone would recognize him in his current state of dress and dishevelment, one of the sentinels followed, an escort to the palace. That sentinel would return to the tavern as soon as Jahn was safely in his quarters, as it was clear Lady Morgana needed a full contingent of guards at all times.

Jahn mumbled to himself in a constant one-sided conversation. Anyone who saw him would likely take him for an insane beggar, between the beard and the mumbling. He did not care. Why had he not left the bed the moment Morgana had asked him to warm her? Why had he not refused her unexpected request, or come up with an excuse to leave the room, or—now here’s a thought—why had he not told her the fucking truth?

No, no, they were now far past the time for his telling the truth without dire consequence. So much for his initial plan to make her grovel in appreciation of his position. So much for teaching her a lesson in humility and then sending her home. So much for taking her down a peg and making her appreciate the blessed life to which she’d been born. This amusement—for that was how it had begun, as a lark—had turned into so much more.

On the First Night of the Summer Festival—a mere six weeks away—he would have no choice but to choose Lady Morgana as his empress, he supposed. Now that he’d had his head up her skirt and had tasted her amazing response, now that he’d made her shudder and moan beneath him, he could hardly send her home as inadequate. Ramsden would have a valid grievance if he did so. At least he had not been foolish enough to find his own release inside her, tempted as he had been to give her all that she had asked for. No, that would never do.

Running up the palace stairs to his private chambers, Jahn momentarily thought of calling Melusina or Anrid or both. Those lovely and willing and uncomplicated women would make him forget the lady he’d left lying in a tavern bed. They’d make the pain of his sacrifice go away, and for a while they would wipe clean his muddled mind. They would ease the throb, if not his conscience.

How could the most simple of entertaining plans go so terribly awry?

At the door to his bedchamber he ordered a sentinel to fetch his two favorite women, but before the young man had taken two steps, Jahn stopped him and rescinded the order. Tempted as he was to lose himself in the warmth of a willing and familiar woman, he could not do it. It wasn’t right—he was no longer entirely free in that respect or any other. And to be honest, he had the sinking feeling no other woman would ease this particular ache.

After learning more than he’d wanted to know about his true past and his real father, Jahn’s greatest fear had been becoming like the man who had so selfishly taken whatever he had desired, damn the cost to those around him. Perhaps in the end Sebestyen had loved his wife, Liane—Alix and Jahn’s mother—but before he had loved her, he had stolen her from her family, broken her spirit, and ultimately broken her heart. He had owned her and he had degraded her. From all Jahn had heard, Sebestyen Beckyt had never been faithful to anyone or anything.

At this moment, Lady Morgana considered herself his wife. In a way she was. He had claimed her, after all, and she had succumbed.

When the door was closed behind him and he was finally alone, Jahn sank into a comfortable chair and dropped his head into his hands. Dear God, he was just like his father. His worst fears had come to pass. Though his intentions had not been entirely dishonorable, he had stolen Morgana away from her family, and he had done his best to break her spirit. Judging by the expression on her face as he’d left her lying in his bed, before it was all over, he was certain to break her heart.

After a cursory knock, Blane entered the room. “Minister Calvyno has been asking for you all day. He’s quite insistent. Someone must’ve seen you on the stairway and told him where you are, because Calvyno is in the hallway and he says he’s not leaving until he sees you.”

“Give me a moment before you show him in.” With a curse Jahn grabbed a blasted imperial robe and donned it, taking the time to remove only his sentinel’s vest, then hiding the uniform under volumes of crimson. That small change would have to do for a long overdue meeting with his minister of foreign affairs.

Jahn had reclaimed his seat by the time Calvyno was shown into the room. The older man was pale and anxious, but that was not unusual. “You’re feeling better, I pray?” he asked crisply.

“Much,” Jahn said. “Thank you for your concern.”

Calvyno nodded, then stared pointedly and with obvious disapproval. “The beard is . . . temporary?”

Jahn stroked the ever-growing length. “I like the beard. I’m thinking of keeping it for a while longer.”

“I see,” Calvyno said in obvious distress.

“Surely you’re not here to discuss the state of my facial hair.”

“No.” Calvyno nodded, happy, as usual, to turn to business. “I have heard, through one of your most trusted sentinels, that those sent to fetch Lady Morgana Ramsden have returned with the message that she refused your offer.”

Jahn sighed. So much for escaping his current troubles with mundane matters of state! Morgana was everywhere, it seemed. “Yes, she did.” Blane was too efficient. Now that it seemed Morgana would be empress, after all, they would have to explain away her initial refusal and ultimate acceptance . . . but that problem could wait for another time. He searched his memory of the night when he had set this contest into motion. “Who was it that suggested Lady Morgana as a candidate?”

Calvyno wrinkled his long nose. “General Hydd, I believe. He’s mentioned her name several times in the past few months, whenever the subject of a much-needed empress arose. He will be distressed to learn that she has declined. I believe he had great hopes for her.”

General Hydd, Jahn’s minister of defense, was a good and loyal soldier, a tested veteran of the battle with Ciro. Jahn found himself wondering how the general had come to recommend Morgana. Were they somehow related? Was Hydd friends with Almund Ramsden? The suggested women had all been hailed as the most beautiful or most gifted or most well connected. What had Hydd said about Morgana? He could not remember all the details of that night. Insistent voices had been talking too loudly and too fast and all at once.

Jahn knew that he could, with a minimum of effort, spread the word that Lady Morgana had changed her mind and would be participating in the contest. After all, women changed their minds all the time. No one would think twice about such a change of heart. But he said nothing. For now, he wanted Morgana all to himself. She was his, and he was not ready to give her up.

He could be a selfish bastard.

 

 

LONG
past the time they’d stopped for the night, Rainer was certain something was wrong with Lady Danya Calliste. Something beyond the usual pettiness and silliness which seemed to be so much a part of her. She was beautiful, and annoyingly she drew his awareness more often than she should. But he did not like her, and fortunately, he did not have to like her in order to complete this task. Still, he was bothered by the change in her. Since they’d stopped that afternoon, she had not been the same.

Rainer possessed a healthy bit of magical abilities which had been inherited from his grandfather, much to the dismay of his down-to-earth farming parents. Reading minds and knowing the future were not among his talents, so he could not use his abilities now to discern what was wrong with Lady Danya. He could start a fire with a flick of his fingers; he could cause pain with the gentlest touch of his hand; he could grab the wind or rushing water and make it his own, for a short while; he could give pleasure with the same touch, slightly altered. Energy, his grandfather had said, was at the center of their powers, as it was at the center of all others’. Some who were gifted could control only one sort of energy or another, but Rainer could capture energy of many types and make it his own. Now and then he could read energy in a person, if it was very strong.

None of his talents would answer his questions about Lady Danya.

He shouldn’t care. She was conceited, vain, and more than a little bit troublesome. He couldn’t imagine the emperor choosing such a woman for the important position of empress, but he could be wrong. The others vying for the position might be just as bothersome, for all he knew. Still, they likely did not possess the same sort of sordid secrets.

Should he tell someone, anyone, what he’d overheard the night before their departure? The fact that she’d once been lovers with her brother-in-law was unsavory, but not particularly relevant. Still, it did speak to her character. Having met the man, however briefly, Rainer also thought Lady Danya’s choice of a sexual partner showed a startling lapse in judgment.

Was that why she had taken to shedding silent tears as they traveled toward Arthes? Had she actually loved the unworthy man she’d left behind?

As the night wore on, and Lady Danya continued to sit by the fire rather than retiring to the small tent she shared with her maid, Rainer became more and more restless. He couldn’t go to sleep and leave her in such a state. One of the three sentinels would be on watch at all times, but the woman was his responsibility. She was his assignment, his first as a deputy minister.

Her head snapped up as he walked toward her, and he was struck—not for the first time—by her incredible beauty. It was somehow wrong that a creation so flawless, so pleasing to the eye, could also be so bothersome. Perhaps it was a kind of balance in nature. The most beautiful insects and snakes were often the most deadly.

“We will depart very early in the morning,” he said, his voice and his manner remaining detached. “You should get some sleep.”

Lady Danya glanced at her tent and then at the shadowed forest beyond. “I’m not tired,” she said, a touch of fear in her soft voice.

“Still . . .”

“I’ll only toss and turn and disturb Fai’s sleep.”

“I’m sure you’ll settle down quickly and find sleep, and your maid will never know of your unease. She was quite exhausted when she retired.” Hours ago.

Why did he care if this challenging woman slept or not? Why did he care if she dozed and fell out of her saddle tomorrow after spending a sleepless night staring into the fire? All he had to do was deliver her to the palace. No one had mentioned the condition she was required to be in upon delivery.

Though he assumed it was implied that she be well cared for.

“You need your rest,” he said.

“Have you ever done something truly horrible?” the lady asked, interrupting Rainer’s gentle nudge toward retreat to her tent.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Rainer answered. With his talents he might’ve, but his grandfather had taught him that to use what God had given him for his own gain or amusement or power would be hideously wrong. “Have you? Is that why you cannot sleep?” Did she have a conscience that plagued her for giving a wife’s gifts to her sister’s husband?

“Not yet, no,” she whispered, again looking to the forest.

What was she afraid of? Rainer did not wish to be intrigued, but he could not help but be curious.

“Is a horrible act performed for honorable reasons as damning as one done out of evil, do you think?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Can you be more specific?”

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

It was obvious that the woman had something troubling on her mind. Perhaps her concerns were more disquieting than the sore backside and mussed hair she’d complained about earlier in the day. “I should not do this,” he said, sitting down beside her—not too close, given that she would one day perhaps be empress.

Her eyes narrowed. “Should not do
what
?” she asked with evident suspicion.

“Tell me what is bothering you,” he said, “and I will swear to keep the knowledge here.” He patted his heart, which beat steadily beneath the jacket of his best traveling outfit.

Lady Danya shook her head quickly and decisively.

Rainer sighed. “I believe I already know.”

The woman glared at him, her eyes wide and terrified. “That’s not possible, unless you have used your magic on me.”

“I used no magic, Lady Danya, but I did overhear you and your brother-in-law speaking. You had improper relations with your sister’s husband,” he said bluntly, “and obviously the guilt weighs upon your heart.”

“How much did you hear?” she asked sharply.

“Enough,” he whispered.

With his well-meaning words he roused an anger in her, and that anger looked healthier upon her than her sadness had. Color flooded her cheeks and her dark eyes flashed. “I did not behave inappropriately with my sister’s
husband,
” she declared. “Yes, I was foolish enough to allow myself to be seduced, but Ennis and I became involved three years ago,
before
Ennis asked Vida to be his wife. I thought he was going to propose to me,” she confessed, losing her anger and dropping her chin. “I thought he loved me.” Tears ran down her cheeks and glistened in the firelight. “And now you will tell the emperor that I am a ruined woman and he will send me home long before the First Night of the Summer Festival.”