Darkness at Dawn (41 page)
Authors: Elizabeth Jennings
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Fiction
Wait
, he told himself,
give her time.
But he couldn’t. Simply couldn’t.
, he told himself,
give her time.
But he couldn’t. Simply couldn’t.
“Do you remember the last thing I said to you?”
She nodded, hair rasping on the pillow. “You said—I love you.”
She was still very sick, had risked death. He shouldn’t push it. He even told himself not to push it, but then he never listened to himself.
“Well?” he asked impatiently.
Her lips curved in a little smile, and he knew in that instant that she was going to be all right.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
E
PILOGUE
PILOGUE
THE PALACE CHILONGO, NHALA SIX MONTHS LATER
“WATCH that step,” Mike said, indicating a tiny imperfection in the floor. “Take my arm.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and took his arm. She had to watch it or she’d forget how to walk alone or how to open her own door or carry her own briefcase.
She straightened the folds of the traditional ceremonial dress, a brilliant turquoise that matched the silk turquoise slippers on her feet. A maid had come in and twisted her hair into the elegant updo of the Nhalan upper classes. She’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and really, except for the shape of her eyes, she could have passed muster as a Nhalan.
Which, after tonight’s ceremony, she would be. Officially. Queen Paso was bestowing honorary citizenship upon her. Her new name was Tashi Dak, Seeker of Clouds.
She retied the emerald green sash, smoothing her hands over her hips. She was gaining back some of the weight she’d lost after the operation. Mike made it his personal mission to ensure that she ate enough. Her appetite was coming back, but for the first few months she’d had to choke food down.
Soon, of course, she’d be gaining a lot of weight.
Mike was dressed in a tux, having turned down a Nhalan ceremonial outfit on the theory that he couldn’t see himself in a dress. Though he had been badly tempted by the ceremonial dagger.
The doors to their chambers opened and they walked out together, arm in arm.
Lucy breathed in the Palace smell of ancient wood and incense, happier than she had ever been in her life. They walked slowly down the brightly colored hallways, servants lining the walls, bowing as they went past.
Finally, they stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the Great Hall.
Lucy stood in the exact spot where her mother and father had fallen, sixteen years before.
She waited, letting the pain and the pride run through her, and finally let go of the pain. She could almost see the spirit of her unhappiness leave her body and fly away.
Her parents had died heroes’ deaths. A whole country revered their memory. They’d lived well and died well and they were gone.
She looked up at Mike and saw that he’d been watching her somberly. He knew. For a jock and a soldier, her Mike was an amazingly perceptive and even sensitive man, though he’d scoff at the thought.
Below, in the Great Hall, a throng of Nhalans awaited them, a crowd dressed in brilliant colors, friendly, happy faces turned up to them. Queen Paso was on a dais at the end of the Great Hall, waiting for her. Her captain, now Prince Consort, was by her side.
“Let’s go down,” Lucy said to Mike.
She wanted to go forward, into her new life. She’d spent so many years frozen, unable to go back, unable to go forward. If there was an afterlife, she knew her parents were looking down and nodding in approval.
She was going to go forward, in every possible way.
Where before she’d had no family at all, now she was drowning in family. When she was released from the hospital, Mike had taken her to her apartment, helped her pack and then taken her immediately to his family’s house in Portland, Oregon, an attractive, rambling building with a huge garden, tailor-made for convalescence.
Mike had opened the door of the house, and waiting for her had been his father, his stepmother, his half sister and two half brothers, four uncles, three aunts, seven cousins and four dogs. All talking and barking at once. All beaming in welcome.
It had been like plunging into a warm, flower-scented ocean.
Uncle Edwin had had a mild heart attack, had retired and—totally unexpectedly—had bought a tiny elegant apartment near Pioneer Square and spent months at a time in Portland, with Lucy.
Mike had retired from the army and was in the process of taking over from his father in the family business. Which was, apparently, blowing things up. Mike loved it.
He loved her, too.
Every day, he asked her to marry him.
And she would. But her new life, however wonderful, had left her unsettled. Every day she said yes but . . . not right now.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and the people in the Great Hall parted as they walked toward the queen and bowed the deep bow of respect.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look, Tashi Dak, Seeker of Clouds?” Mike murmured to her. “You look every inch the queen, just like Paso.”
Now she could see Paso, smiling down at her.
This, this moment was perfect. All the odd jangling strains of her life coming together in a unique whole.
“I haven’t asked Tashi Dak to marry me yet.” Mike slanted her a glance, dark eyes glowing. “Maybe
she’ll
say yes.”
she’ll
say yes.”
“Maybe.”
Mike’s eyes rounded with surprise.
It was time. They reached the dais, all the Nhalans were behind them, Paso looking down on them, smiling.
Lucy took Mike’s hand, put it against her belly, nudged his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want our child to be without a father, would we?”
Mike’s deep, delighted laugh rang in the Great Hall. He picked her up and swung her around, her robe billowing.
All the Nhalans around them tittered, the ladies hiding their smiles behind their hands.
Everyone knew Westerners were crazy.
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