Guardian of Honor (27 page)

"Will he be a good neighbor?" she asked. She glanced
again in the direction Luthan had pointed, but wasn't too interested. She
wanted to get inside the house.
Her
house.

"He will probably not be much of a neighbor at all. Bastien
is usually in the Field."

That meant he was a Chevalier who fought a lot. Well, he'd had the
scars and muscles to prove it. Sounded very macho. Huh.

"So he has an estate and a couple of volarans?" She
traced the door knocker with her fingers, trying to get a sense of the place
before she entered. It exuded cheer. Her heart started to thump hard.

"Twelve volarans."

That got her attention. "Twelve? I only have five." She
pouted. It didn't matter that she had no intention of riding any of them.

"He likes volarans." Luthan lifted and let the knocker
fall. It echoed inside.

A moment later the door swung open and Alexa faced a man as tall
as she was, and much rounder. His eyes widened at the sight of her, his face
puckered into a grin, and he squealed with delight.

"The mistress is here. The Marshall Exotique!” he called over
his shoulder, as if addressing the entire household.

How many people were
in
her entire household?

Luthan took her hand and led her in. The entryway was tiled in
brown-and-white marble squares. A sweeping staircase to the right curved upward
to the second floor, and beyond.

The proportions of the place appeared to be slightly less than
Lladranan standard, more Earth-like.

"The Exotique built this house," she said.

Luthan raised an eyebrow. "Right."

Alexa swallowed again as she saw the staff arrayed before her.
Then she smiled. In typical Lladranan flamboyance, they formed a rainbow. The
butler and housekeeper wore purple. Down at the end, a boy in his young teens
wore deep reddish brown. Servants she didn't know the names for, let alone the
names
of,
were clad brightly in blue and red and green and yellow.

The butler bustled forward. "Welcome, welcome." He
bowed, and bowed again.

She did the greeting thing, knowing it would take months to learn
the names of all the staff. She only hoped she
had
months in the future
to do so. Then she took the butler up on his offer to show her the house.

At the door of her suite, Alexa dismissed him. Luthan had gone to
inspect the stables for her. She had a feeling he was also calculating how far
her place was from his brother's and trying to recall who else were her
neighbors so he could tell her more stories. Be informative and helpful. She
didn't know what had happened between them in the tavern, but he could be a
staunch ally. Especially with his father, Reynardus. She got the impression
that neither of his sons was afraid to stand up to the man. They must be a pain
in his ass.

She smiled and stepped into the first room. It was the sitting
room, with a desk near the window, a lovely fireplace, and some chairs,
settees, tables and other furnishings that looked old and well-cared for.
Somebody had taste and money. She sighed, glad she didn't have to furnish a
house herself. She hadn't spent any time in houses like this to know what would
fit or what would look tacky.

Her smile broadened as she noticed there was no purple anywhere.
She walked to the bedroom and looked at the bed. Little stairs again. Too bad.
Yet, the windows were large and curved at the top and had nice
dull-gold-colored curtains. Everything in here pleased her too.

Alexa climbed the small stairs and sank down into the rich feather
topper of the bed and knew she'd made a mistake. It felt too good against her
sore body. Before she could settle, she scrambled off the thing, but looked at
it with longing. She'd like to spend the night here, but her rounds of lessons
and meetings at the Castle tomorrow would prevent that. The Marshalls would
probably have a meeting to discuss what took place today, ad nauseam.

Meetings in Lladrana were only slightly better than the meetings
at the big law firm where she'd interned. The best meetings she'd ever had were
partnership meetings with Sophie over pizza and beer. Those days were gone and
never to return.

And the Lladranans didn't have pizza.

Alexa stood and closed her eyes and tried to
feel
the house
around her. It was a good place, no terrible tragedies, no hideous monster
invasions. Day-to-day life. And she wanted the home with every iota of her
being.

The tiny chimes at the threshold of her sitting room-bedroom door
tinkled and Luthan looked in. He smiled if he sensed her magical probing, and
approved.

"We should leave now if we wish to reach the Castle by
dark."

Alexa realized she was holding on to a bed-curtain rope of velvet
she'd used to steady herself. Reluctantly, she dropped it and nodded.
"Yes, let's go."

"We can fly over Bastien's land so you can get an idea of
your neighbor," Luthan said, a little too casually for Alexa to believe
that he didn't care about her decision.

"Sure," she said.

He offered his arm, and she took it, feeling a little silly. Odd.
She hadn't felt silly in the house or with the folks that worked here, but now
was awkward. It was Luthan. He no longer acted as if she were totally
repulsive, but she wouldn't ever forget that his instincts had been against
her.

With great courtesy and easy strength, he helped her into the
saddle and settled behind her. The volaran nickered, and Alexa sensed again
that he was pleased she rode with them. It lifted her spirits a little at
leaving a place where she'd prefer to stay. To explore every room while knowing
that everything in it was hers. To learn the quirks of the people who kept it
comfortable and safe for her. To claim her home.

She sighed.

The volaran ran and lifted off with a
whoosh
of great
feathered wings, rising in a large circle into the sky. Luthan moved with the
beast and Alexa tried to follow his lead in how to sit, where to place her
hands, how to balance her weight. It was easier this time.

Luthan gestured below. "That's Bastien's estate,
Freehold."

Alexa glanced down to see well-tended fields and a lot of corrals
that indicated volarans. Friendly neighs and greetings came from a cluster of
animals, and there was some lifting of wings. She sensed Luthan expected some
comment.

"Everything looks cared for." Even from this height she
could see the flying horses were healthy and just plain beautiful.

Luthan relaxed incrementally behind her and she realized another
thing that bothered her was that he was so stiff all the time. His bearing
would do a rigid Marine proud.

"Bastien is a good landholder and an excellent
Chevalier," Luthan replied. It was the last he spoke during the entire
trip.

The guy was odd.

14

A
lexa hated being a hero. Word of her reviving the border—even for
the short time of a day before it died again—had spread through Lladrana and
the Marshalls had sent her on a goodwill tour. Alexa deduced they wanted to
prove that their decision to Summon an Exotique was a good idea. To show the
rest of Lladrana that the Marshalls were still viable, strong leaders.

She felt like everyone was now looking to her to save them. A load
of responsibility burdened her, like invisible weights on her shoulders.

Though she was learning a lot about Lladrana and the status and
popularity of the Marshalls, Alexa didn't like the travel. It rained continually,
so the countryside looked more mud brown than spring green from Alexa's
carriage window.

She supposed the inns she stayed at were the best each town had to
offer, and some rivaled the Castle's luxury, but she was tired
of sleeping in alien beds. She traveled with a retinue,
only two of them of her choosing—Sinafin, who was having a great time, and
Alexa's new maid, Umilla.

The Marshalls hadn't been pleased with Alexa's choice of servants,
but Alexa had ignored all their protests. She liked the black-and-white; the
woman treated her with respect, didn't laugh at her accent, and Umilla
pronounced her name correctly. Umilla now wore Alexa's purple livery. Alexa had
had qualms about that, until she noticed Umilla took pride in the clothing and
no longer walked with a stoop. There was no denying that Alexa needed help in
dressing herself in the chain mail.

Three others traveled with Alexa—her language teacher, the Castle
Medica, and an older woman who taught Alexa magic and was the strictest prof
she had ever experienced. Alexa was doing well in her magic lessons, but not as
well in her language lessons. Just when she thought she understood some concept
of grammar, the rules seemed to change.

The worst was that everywhere she visited she was a curiosity, the
Exotique.
She'd never been a wildly outgoing person, and now she
struggled to keep a smile on her face and be civil—she had pat responses in
fair Lladranan to common questions, but anything unusual meant halting speech.
She felt stupid, and she felt like a freak.

After ten days of touring, they reached an inn called The Singer's
Hand, and Alexa desperately needed time alone. Time pretending to be a normal
person. The past two nights she'd awakened in the middle of the night and
nearly wept for home and faces she knew.

That day Sinafin had been prodding her at every instant,
impossible to bear. Alexa had managed to talk to the folks who approached her
in the private room behind the taproom until everyone's questions were
satisfied—all during the day and until
the gray,
rainy evening. With a little strategy, she eluded everyone, even Sinafin,
dressed in some ordinary clothes and pulled on a royal-blue cloth cloak that
the innkeepers kept for guests.

She opened the back door and peered out at a small cobbled
courtyard between the inn and the stables. The light was bad in the sputtering
rain, and the sun had just set.

To her right was a passage between outbuildings to a field of long
grass and an old orchard. The air smelled fresh and the heavy drops were now
just intermittent splats. She closed her eyes, lifted her face and took in the
scent of Lladrana. Sweet rain fresh with hints of blossoming trees, a scent
near to one she remembered from her childhood.

A little walk would be just the thing to refresh her spirits. She
wouldn't go far, just to the orchard. The inn stood on the edge of a midsize
town, and Alexa had no intention of getting into any more complicated
situations. She'd been in enough over the past weeks to fulfill anyone's
craving for adventure...and it was just the beginning.

So she drew the cowl of the cloak over her head until it nearly
reached her eyes, and stepped from the building. She'd learned by experience
that wet cobblestones could be very slippery. Picking her way, she headed down
the path between the stable and the inn.

She must have misjudged the path, because she ran into a thick
cobweb. It clung to her, blinding her, covering her nose and mouth. It smelled
of rotted bodies...death. The more she fought against it, the tighter it
became.

Panic struck.

She broke the binding on her left hand and pulled it into the
cloak, fumbled with the baton fastened on her left hip. Her feet slipped and
she landed hard, the jolt of pain clearing her mind just enough. She freed the
baton. Comfortable in her hand, it steadied her enough to mentally order
Fire!

Heat pulsed from her, constriction vanished. The smell dissipated.
She lay in the wet courtyard for a minute, panting, trying to gather her thoughts.
What had happened? She'd run into a spiderweb. They were stronger and stickier
in Lladrana, she guessed.

"Hello there, darlin'. Did you slip?" A man swathed in a
rain cloak and with a broad-brimmed hat shadowing his face grasped her arm and
lifted her easily to her feet. When she swayed, he steadied her against his
body.

She gulped air, her mind still dizzy.
"Shal-shalutashuns," she gasped.

He hugged her closer, chuckled. "I can see why you slipped.
Tricky walking out here. Did you see some sort of green light?"

She shook her head, trying to dispel the muzziness. It had just
been a spider web.

"Ah, well. Must have been an illusion."

He settled her better against him. Her head rested on his chest.

He was warm and strong and smelled really good. Like a spicy
pastry. She could do with a good piece of pie.

Or with a man.

He wouldn't have to be good. Just good in bed.

This was the first time since she'd stepped through the silver
arch that she'd thought about having sex. It seemed a damn good idea.

More, she realized that she hadn't been intimate—physically or
emotionally—with anyone while in Lladrana. Well, maybe Sinafin picked up on
Alexa's emotions now and again and had been a good friend. But it was difficult
to identify with someone who was about three inches high in her dreams and a
foot max in real life. She'd held Sinafin, but Sinafin had never held her.