Ghost in Her Heart (8 page)

The room was done in warm tones of pink, with
the occasional burst of shocking cherry and white in the huge urns
and intricately painted flower pots. A musical instrument of the
harp persuasion occupied one corner of the room. Idly, she wondered
if she were expected to learn it. Good luck there.

Her new bed was immense and spread with a
white velvet coverlet embroidered with a crest. Dagon’s, she
suspected. It made her feel odd, as if he’d placed his stamp upon
her.

A riptide of emotions swirled in her heart as
she thought about the coming ceremony. The boys were a pack of wolf
cubs. Too old for their age, yet mischievous enough to give the
faint of heart fits. Already she could see that they were going to
grow into fine warriors, and they worshiped their brother Dagon.
When they weren’t fighting or plotting, they constantly practiced
their martial arts.

To his credit, Dagon noticed their efforts to
please him. He knew just the moment to speak a word of praise, and
just the right kind of frown to gain instant obedience. She could
see him as a leader in battle. From what she’d observed, he ran his
kingdom well.

She was still determined to leave. Maybe it
was dishonorable of her, but she planned to subtly pump the boys
for information. While she was at it, she’d learn all she could of
the world that had snatched her. The more she knew, the easier it
would be to escape and elude capture. Ideally, she would get out
within the month. Already she could feel the growing familiarity
with this place sucking her in. The longer she was there, the worse
it would be. Risky as it was, she had to take the earliest
opportunity to leave.

Now she just had to figure out how she’d got
there in the first place.

A knock sounded on the door. “Ma’am? It’s
time.”

The grand hall she was led to was filled with
a glittering array of guests. Many of the women from the harem
stood beside the soberly robed warriors. They watched her with a
mixture of resentment, puzzlement or curiosity. Jen was there with
Ser. She gave Vana a small smile.

Dagon stood at the head of the hall on a
small dais. The expression on his face was solemn to match the
occasion. Light gleamed off his glossy black body armor. A gold
trimmed, long coat of scarlet swirled around him. It was
sleeveless, with a Chinese collar trimmed in red.

Breathless from the sight, she looked at the
boys who stood just below the dais, smiling at their expressions.
Young Devin, not yet a teen, had the rebellious light of hope
shining in his eyes. His white outfit, the same as the others wore,
made him look like an adolescent white knight.

As dark as Devin was blond, Keg’s stare dared
her to back out. How could she when she knew the tattoo on his face
had been put there by his dying father, the last of his family?
He’d wanted to see the last hope of his bloodline on the face of
his son, to remind Keg of the need to survive and save their line.
It was too heavy a burden to let the boy bear alone. Who would
teach him moderation in his quest to please the dead? Someone had
to give him back the gift of his childhood.

And the twins. Destined to be lady-killers,
both betrayed their youth with the hopeful fear they tried to hide.
She wondered how long their white outfits would survive the trauma
they’d put them through.

“Lady, are you ready?” Dagon asked, prompting
her to look at him.

“I am.”

He gestured, and his mother stepped forward.
Vana felt the blood leave her face. She hadn’t expected Ellyn to
show up.

As serene as if the moment mattered nothing
to her, Ellyn said calmly, “From this moment on, I relinquish my
children. I did not birth them. I do not know them.” She turned her
back on the boys. In response, every soul in hall did the same.
They stood there, repudiated before everyone they knew, motherless.
Unwanted.

Horrified, for Vana had never expected this
kind of humiliation for them, she sought Dagon’s hard gaze. He’d
been abandoned, too.

Slowly, her hand curled into a fist. Making
sure her voice carried throughout the hall, she stepped forward and
said the words she’d been taught, plus some. “I want them. They
will be my sons. It will be as if they came from my body. When they
bleed, my heart will bleed. Those who will not acknowledge them
will not be welcome in my house. They are dead to me.”

Gasps went through the hall. That last bit
had not been part of little speech they’d taught her. Considering
her position, it was as daring as actually slapping Ellyn’s
face.

Ellyn stiffened. The guests turned around as
tradition demanded. For long seconds it looked as if Ellyn would
simply walk off and never face them. But finally, her face proud
and cold, she turned, though the hand clenched in her yellow robe
trembled.

Vana didn’t care. Any woman who could do that
to her children was not a woman Vana wanted near them.

Dagon glanced at Ellyn. Grimly, he told the
boys, “Greet your mother.” As she’d been coached, Vana knelt and
accepted their light touches on her shoulders as they affixed the
beads with their name runes engraved on them in her braided hair.
Each bead was carved from the stone for their birth week. When they
were finished, she had two beads of jade, one of gold, and a
winking ruby among her tresses. It felt good. The glow of family
filled an ache she hadn’t known was empty.

Maybe she had found a reason to stay after
all.

Dagon was polite to those at the banquet,
though he said little, especially to Vana. Had she not been so
distracted by the merrymaking, she might have paid closer
attention.

She might have feared.

When the feast was over, she was summoned to
his room.

The door closed behind her. That was first
bad sign.

Still dressed in black, though he’d discarded
the red robe, Dagon advanced on her with the slow tread of a
stalking cat. Dark rage shimmered from his every line. “I have
never, never felt so much like beating a woman,” he breathed in her
face. “How dare you cast Ellyn out!”

Confused, but unwilling to be cowed, she said
tightly, “The woman deserved it.”

He made a slow circle around her. His size
dwarfed her, his closeness made her feel the danger. “Do you have
any idea how powerful of an enemy you’ve made today? Do you have
some hidden protection that I can’t see? Ellyn has reason now to
despise not only you, but what are now your sons. You publicly
humiliated her. She will never forgive it.”

Bile churned in her stomach. Even her teeth
wanted to chatter with her fury. It was too much like her father,
the way Ellyn had turned her back. Vana could still see his face as
he shoved her mother out of his way, gave his little girl a look of
disgust, and left for good. “I hate the air she breathes! I don’t
care if she does hate me.”

Dagon’s teeth flashed in a snarl as he
grabbed her and shoved her up against the wall. Face contorted with
emotions she couldn’t fathom, he rasped at her, “She will try to
kill you. Is that worth your revenge? Is death a high enough price
to pay?”

“What is that to me? You’ve already taken
away everything I loved. My world! What’s it to you if you she
takes my life, too?”

He shoved away from the wall as if she’d
burned him. “You are a fool.”

Just then, she felt like one. Had she ever
felt soft toward him? Where had this dark side of his come from? It
didn’t take much to tell her that any move she made would ignite
his shaky temper. And just then, she wasn’t sure she could control
the watery burning that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Though
they were born of wrath, she couldn’t bear to shed tears in front
of him.

He looked at her. His face hardened. “Get
out.”

Dagon watched her leave, furious at the loss
of control he’d just shamed himself with. He’d meant to chasten and
warn her. Instead….

He paced. The moment Ellyn had turned her
back and Vana had looked at him with eyes that were open windows to
her soul, he should have known. Every thought in her heart was bare
to him, and his own had shuddered with impact of the connection.
But it had still rocked him to hear the words that put her in
mortal combat with a woman who had seen more than her share of
opponents to their defeat. This time he feared the grudge match
would see Vana in her grave.

Unable to bear the memory, he cursed. She’d
had no idea. That heart he’d pegged as too soft had led her.
Without his guiding hand, she had leapt into the fire to protect
the innocent.

She was a fool.

Dagon’s hand clenched. Bloody disrespect for
politics. Overblown noble urges. The woman was the worst possible
candidate for queen. Testing or not, he was not going to accept
her. No woman who thought the way she did would survive the
position.

He left the room in search of Jen.

***

Vana adjusted the cuff on her left arm and
spared a thankful thought for the slit harem pants and
midriff-baring top. They were flexible and cool for working out.
The metal cuff blared Queen’s Who Wants to Live Forever as she
started to climb the revolving training wall. Sometimes she could
almost thank the Beasts for downloading the Internet in their quest
to capture women. The pounding music helped her not to think.

The rough rocks bit into her hands, wearing
at skin that wasn’t as calloused as it was going to be, although
the rag strips she wrapped around her palms provided some
protection. She refused to ask for gloves. Her guard already
frowned at her hours of exercise. Begging for anything from Dagon
was out, and she didn’t know whom else to ask. After half an hour
the blisters on her fingers mixed with the sweat and oozed, making
her grip treacherous. Since she was already quivering with
exhaustion and dripping sweat, she let the wall carry her to the
bottom and got off.

A towel was thrust into her line of vision.
She took it and stared at Ser, who reached over and turned off her
music with a grimace.

“You look awful,” he said, frowning at
her.

She let out a shuddering breath and mopped at
her face. Maybe, but it let her sleep at night. Two days had passed
since she’d been summoned to Dagon’s room. Two days in which she’d
spent every spare minute trying to forget.

Vana sat on the floor and took a huge gulp of
her water bottle, vaguely surprised when Ser joined her.

He looked at her. “You should ignore his
temper.”

She stiffened. “Did he send you?”

He shrugged. “I like to interfere.” His teeth
flashed in a quick grin. “And it’s painfully obvious he’s set on
annoying me until I give him back the distraction of you.”

She snorted.

“It’s true. I haven’t seen him this brooding
since the birth of his last half-brother.”

The admission earned him a grunt. It was all
she was willing to contribute to the conversation.

Ser glanced up at the wall. “Why do you do
this? You’ve been offered a life of ease. Why don’t you enjoy
it?”

“I’m the captain of my own soul, and it’s a
restless spirit. I’ll do it until I’m forbidden, and then I’ll do
it in my own room where no one can watch to stop me. I need
it.”

Those knowing eyes studied her. “You’re
afraid.”

“We’re all afraid of something.” She gazed
across the vastness of the training area. The unused portions were
in shadow. For the second night running, she’d been alone. She
doubted it was an accident. Either the men had been ordered away
while she was there, or they avoided her workouts for cultural
reasons. Both options made her feel depressed. Already she was more
isolated than she cared to be, since the harem wasn’t a welcome
place to be now that she’d adopted the boys. Too many women turned
their backs on her. Other than Jen, there hadn’t been that much
time to connect with them, anyway. Not for an introvert like
her.

He followed her gaze. “This seclusion is not
good for you.”

She shrugged. Even back home she’d had a hard
time making friends.

“Where are your sons?”

Did he ever give up? “Around. They got their
figurehead and then scampered off to plot some more, according to
their brother.” The mention of Dagon depressed her. She fiddled
with her bottle.

“They are unused to having a mother, which is
what I think you wanted to be. Maybe you should make the first
gesture.”

“They don’t need me.”

Ser glowered at her impatiently. “Are you
always such a coward?” Before she could retort, he went on
ruthlessly, “You have the Tzar of my people so stirred over you
that he can’t sleep and the sons you professed to want in your
hands, yet you won’t finish the run. Have you thought of the good
you could do the women as queen? Or would you like the next one to
be like the dowager Ellyn? What do you think Dagon could possibly
do to you as his consort that would outweigh the power of that
position?”

“The position isn’t open,” she said through
clenched teeth. “I don’t want it open. I don’t want him! I want to
go home. Why should I get attached to anything or anyone here? I
don’t belong here.” She stood up.

He rose, towered over her. “You never
belonged anywhere else. This place can be what you shape it to be,
if you’ve the courage not to run away.”

“If you were me, is that what you’d call it?
Running away?” she demanded.

“I’ll never be you. I face my battles, and I
know my options. If you had the courage, you’d seize the prize
instead of running down the path of least resistance.”

“So it’s going to be easy to go home?” she
challenged him, unable to let him just stand there and tell her
what she thought, what she felt.

He leaned in close, ignoring her question.
“Will you ever forget him if you leave? Do you not think he would
be inside you, a ghost in your heart?”