Cursed by Ice (25 page)

Davine was off with a flutter of light fabric and gone from the room.

Her master’s door? She had no master any longer, Sarielle thought with a frown. Surely it was a habitual word choice. Davine had always referred to the bennesah as her “master,” even going so far as to say “Yes, my beloved master” on occasion within Sarielle’s earshot. No. She shouldn’t really think anything of it.

Sarielle stood up, the diaphanous material of her gown brushing along her body. It was completely transparent,
barely what she would call a fabric at all. At first she had been shy to wear it in front of Davine, but the other woman had oohed and aahed over it so much that she had lost her shyness. Now, as she moved to the door she shared with Garreth, she hesitated and suddenly felt shy again. She grabbed the handle of the door and inched it open just so she could peek inside. Garreth was standing there completely naked, his back to her, his fingers reaching around in an attempt to scratch his own back. Apparently he couldn’t reach the proper place, although he tried it from all sides.

She eased the door open, blessing the gods for well-oiled hinges, and swept into the room soundlessly.

Garreth was about to give up reaching the bloody itch and was determined to find a good stone wall to scratch against when the light drift of nails coasted down the center of his spine, right where the damn itch was. He sighed as she scratched him gently.

“Ah, harder. Up a little. There’s the bloody spot,” he ejected happily. “Been trying to reach that thing for an hour.”

“Glad I could help,” she said with a chuckle.

He reached behind him for her hands, pulling one up under each of his arms until he had both folded across his chest, making her hug him from behind.

“It’s been a long day. Most of it spent avoiding a man I can’t afford to avoid.”

“Who?”

“My brother.”

“Why would you want to avoid him?”

He sighed. “It’s not important. How about you? How was your day?”

“Well, it was good … for the most part.”

“For the most part?” He turned in her arms. “What do you mean for the—What in the hells are you wearing?”
he choked out once he had come full around and looked at her.

She colored. “You don’t like it,” she said, covering herself with her arms.

“I-I didn’t say that,” he said hastily, reaching to take her hands in his and pull her arms away from her reluctant body. “I just … I wasn’t expecting it. My sweet and loving gods, you look absolutely …”

“Ridiculous?”

“Amazing,” he corrected. “I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but every time I lay eyes on you, you prove me wrong.”

This time she blushed for all the right reasons, reminding herself to thank Davine.

“Now … before I devour you top to bottom, I want you to explain to me what you meant by ‘for the most part.’ ”

“There was this one vendor,” she said with a dismissive shrug.

“What of him?”

“She … would not serve me.” There was a distinct beat of her heart.

“What do you mean she would not serve you?” he asked softly, dangerously.

“Please,” she begged him, “do not make anything of this. It’s just the way things are. I have been trying to tell you this—”

“Which vendor?” he demanded of her.

“Please it doesn’t mat—”

“Which goddamn vendor?!” he shouted at her.

“Don’t yell at me!” she shouted back.

He reached for her, but she smacked his hands away and backed up. He tracked her all the way across the room, her retreating and him advancing. She slammed into the wall, but his hands had already come about her head and protected it from the stone.

“Stop,” he said quietly. “Stop!” he said more strongly when she tried to push him off.

“I won’t be yelled at!” she said, fighting back tears. She had come into the room with such different plans. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. “I should never have said anything!”

“No. No, you should … I’m sorry. You need to promise me that you’ll tell me anything you want to tell me. I did not mean to be cross with you. I just don’t like it when you tell me you have been mistreated. Those days are over for you. It makes me angry for you, not at you.”

“Well, it feels like the same thing when you are yelling at me.”

“You are right. And I truly am very sorry. Now please, tell me what happened. I have to understand what is going on in the streets of this city if I am to come up with a way of fixing it.”

“It was simple,” she said with a nonchalant shrug that wasn’t fooling him at all. “The vendor thought I was too dirty to try on her clothing.”

Simple? To her that was
simple
? Garreth thought. No. It wasn’t that simple to her. He could see in her eyes that it had stung her just as much as it should have stung her, would have stung him had it happened to him. He had been in many lands where as an outsider he had been considered less than good enough, but the difference between him and his fira was that he had never put up with it, and she seemed to think it was her due.

“You fought me so hard when I first came here. Where is that fire now, fira?”

“I fought you because I was afraid. Because I was hurt! I’m not the strong woman you think I am! I am merely a … a …”

“Do not say slave. Do not dare say slave to me!” he hissed softly at her.

“That is what I am. What I have always been. I don’t know how to be anything else except … except when I’m here with you.”

He drew in a deep breath, exhaled. “I suppose … I suppose I am asking much of you. Too much, it would seem. I mean nothing by it except to say that I wish you to see yourself as I see you.” He reached and touched a gentling finger to the rise of her cheek. “As something wild and beautiful and
free
.”

“Only with you do I fully feel I am those things.”

“That is enough for now. Soon, though, I expect it to radiate beyond just you and I. I expect you to demand it of others.”

“I will try,” she promised him.

“You are the wrena,” he said. “The woman who braved a mountain wilderness, lived among manticores and wyverns, climbed up high in order to steal an egg, and somehow carried it safely down. You nursed it to fruition. You have a wyvern at your beck and call. What about any of that screams slave to you? Screams that you are weak or powerless?”

“Nothing,” she breathed.

“And now you mold the soul of a conqueror to your hand just as easily,” he said, taking her hand with his and bringing it to rest over his heart. “My spirit soars when I am with you, even though it is not mine to give. It is dangerous, I know, but I cannot seem to help myself. My brother sees it. That is the crux of his anger toward me.”

“I do not wish to come between you and your brother,” she whispered.

“It is this curse that is between us … just as it lies between you and I. And with that thought … darkness is falling. I must leave you for a little while.” He moved away from her and began to dress himself in warmer
clothing. It was strange because the nights were not yet quite that cold.

“Where do you go every night?” she asked.

“I would prefer you not ask me that,” he said with a frown.

“But I am asking,” she pressed as he pulled a jerkin of leather over his head.

“Fira,” he warned.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“I have to go,” he said, briefly coming past her and pressing a quick kiss on her mouth. Then he was gone, leaving her in his rooms.

Hurt that he would not confide in her, she refused to sleep in his bed … at first. She went to her own room and undid her hair of all the frilly curls and braids Davine had put it in. She brushed it out until it settled in soft waves around her shoulders. She was in her own bed shortly after and it felt so alone. So desolate. She realized that after all those turnings of loneliness she didn’t want to sleep alone if she didn’t have to. She went across the cold stone floor as fast as she could and leapt into Garreth’s bed, snuggling down deep under the covers. His bed was close to the fire and was toasty warm, chasing away the small chill in the air that came with living in a cold, often damp building like the keep. Before long she began to grow drowsy and then fell asleep.

Sarielle was dreaming that something—she didn’t know what—was chasing after her. It was dark and large, and more than anything, it was cold. Icy cold. She was cold to her sinew and bone.

The walls around her were crackling with frost, and her skin was frozen. Her lips were blue, and suddenly something that felt like ice was pressed against them.

She woke with a shocked gasp to find Garreth kissing
her lightly on her lips. He looked immediately surprised that she had awakened from her slumber. He pulled away, but not before she had felt the cold of his lips. He had been leaning over her, but now moved toward the fire.

“Where have you been?” she asked him.

“I told you not to ask me that.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m finding the dictate a bit hard to hold on to! Something is going on. Why won’t you share it with me?”

“I won’t discuss this. If you can’t abide by that, then perhaps you should return to your own bed,” he said flatly.

Sarielle bit her lip. Something inside her told her that if she left she would be creating a wall between them, which might not be able to be torn down once erected. She didn’t want that.

“No. I’ll abide by it. For as long as I can. If I see you hurt in any way, I don’t know that I can keep that promise.”

“I can’t be hurt, remember?”

“You know that’s not true. You can be hurt very badly. You simply cannot be killed. There is a difference.” She paused. “And not all hurts are physical.”

He looked at her as he stood by the fire and slowly began to get undressed. “I’m a grown man. I know how to manage my feelings.”

“Managing them and feeling them are two different things entirely. I should know. I have kept myself from feeling anything, save the love for my sisters, for so long. And anger. Anger at the bennesah that he would hold them hostage from me in order to control me. I am so tired of people using them to get to me and, through me, Koro.”

“I will not use you in such a way,” he promised her quietly.

“I know you won’t. That is one of the reasons why you find me in your bed when you return from these late night excursions of yours.” She held out her hand. “Will you come to bed?”

“In a little while. I want to warm by the fire.”

“Is it that cold out?” she asked.

“Getting colder every day,” he said. “Dethan will want to leave soon. It looks like I will be wintering the army here.” He looked at her. “Would you like that?”

She smiled. “I would love that.”

“Then it is settled. We will spend the winter rebuilding what we can in the snow and planning for an attack on Zandaria.”

“So you have decided to go forth?”

“Provided we can find mages. I would like to convince Dethan to bring Selinda with him when he returns at the end of spring. She is a fire magess and a very powerful one, as I understand it.”

“You’ve spoken to him about this?”

“A little.”

“And what does he say?”

“He cares for his wife deeply. He will not risk her willingly. They have a young son. But that is the beauty of choosing Zandaria. We can base ourselves here. Xand could remain safe and protected here with his nanny, and Selinda and Dethan could come back whenever they needed to be with him.”

“It is a good thought. But you will need more than one fire magess to fight the rylings.”

“We are working on that. We have the entire winter to gather more mages.”

“Good mages are hard to find. Most, like Vinqua, have positions in established political structures. They will not want to leave that comfort and security to go to war.”

“I know. That is why we have not found one as yet.”

Garreth was standing there before the firelight in just his breeches, the material clinging lovingly to his powerful thighs and other more intimate areas. She could see the definition of him through the fawn-colored fabric. It made a slow hunger for him begin to bubble beneath her surface. He was quite magnificent, bare chested, his arms well shaped and strong, his chest and shoulders broad. She would never tire of looking at the sheer male beauty of him. She loved every inch of him, from the strong column of his throat and neck to his tight belly with the thumbprint navel to his big bare feet with their slightly knobby toes. It always made her smile to see them. Probably because she only got to see them when he was fully naked or close to it.

He stood practically in the fireplace, a huge stone thing that could almost be walked into. The fire had been mild, but now he was loading on wood until it burned bright and hot. She felt the wall of heat and it comforted her. But it looked as though he was having trouble getting warm. He kept rubbing his arms and hands as if to make his blood move and warm.

“Change is hard for anyone to accept. My experiences today only prove that.”

Garreth frowned. “I am going to have that vendor thrown in the stocks for her treatment of you. And that will be the punishment for anyone caught doing likewise to any other slave.”

“Then you will need to build more stocks,” she said with a frown. “You cannot expect people to change overnight.”

“No. But they won’t change if there are no consequences for their refusal to do so. I will have more stocks built and placed in the center square in the heart of the bazaar. That way everyone can see what happens to those who do not change their attitudes. They will get the message soon enough.”

“I suppose. But might I suggest the city guard warn offenders first before they take them to the stocks? You put out a decree to free the slaves, so put one out to announce punishment for segregation and prejudicial behaviors.”

“I will see it done tomorrow. Now,” he said coming toward her. “I am warmed. Would you like to feel?”

There was something primal in his gaze just then, something with appetite. It made her pulse quicken to see him coming toward her so intently. She sat up as he climbed into bed, but he quickly moved his body over hers, forcing her to recline back again. He hovered above her, his arms taut with the weight of his own body. She exhaled and reached to touch him, finding her fingers eager for the feel of him. Her eyes eager for the look of him. He smelled of the outdoors, crisp and woodsy, and also male and warm and everything virile. There was such life in his body, burning in his eyes, and he looked at her as if he wanted to live that life trying to find the very heart of her.