Perhaps though, Saria was afraid too—afraid of an arranged marriage when other women could choose a mate for love alone.
“I have chosen a lover.” Saria’s cheeks flushed becomingly. She had always been the pretty one and Alari the serious sister. “Naret of the Az’larna. He is very handsome.”
“Mind that you will someday be mated to one Mother and her advisors select,” Alari warned quietly as her maid added jewels to her hair. “Do not become too attached to this warrior.”
“I do not think I will love him. In any case, she has already agreed he may visit me.” Saria took her hand as she had when they were children, when they’d hidden beneath the quilts and whispered secrets. “I will tell you all about it,” her sister promised. “And you will tell me what it is like to be bound.”
Alari closed her eyes briefly and let go of her sister’s hand so the maids could slide rings onto her fingers. “Can we not speak of something else?”
Saria considered. “Tellarans are come to the Empress’ city to seek peace. Naret says some of their warriors are women. Perhaps we will see one.”
Alari’s brow creased. “A woman warrior? Does she dress in black and carry a sword?”
“He says she wears trousers like a man,” her sister said. “But carries no sword.”
Alari’s frown deepened. “How are they marked as warriors if they do not have swords?”
Her sister shrugged. “They are Tellarans.”
“I wish I could talk with one of them,” Alari murmured. To speak to one must be like conversing with a creature so foreign as to seem otherworldly, the wildness of their ways, the strange, unimaginable landscapes of faraway planets . . .
“A barbarian?” Her sister gave a short laugh. “You might as well wish for wings to fly away from the palace.” Saria met her eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “Will you not tell me what troubles you, Alari? You used to tell me everything.”
Her attendant placed the final jewel in Alari’s hair and stepped back.
Looking back at her from the mirror was the very image of an Imperial bride.
Alari turned away. “There is nothing to tell.” Her throat tightened to see how high the sun had climbed. “And it is time to go.”
It took a half hour to get from Kinara’s clanhouse to the palace entrance and two hours for their party to get from the arched, colorfully carved Gate of the Blessed inside the Imperial palace itself.
Kyndan was gritting his teeth before they made it halfway across the tiled courtyard. It seemed like every ten feet an Imperial Servant or another clan leader would bow or nod to Kinara with a message or a question or just to pass the time with a chat. Nisara had been disappointed to hear that only one Tellaran would be permitted to attend today’s ceremony; Kyndan would have happily swapped places with her if he could have.
The palace grounds were the size of a small city. Enclosed within its walls were the empress’ residence, the House of the Imperial Children, and many other buildings including theaters, soaring banquet halls where thousands of guests were served at a time, and religious sanctuaries dedicated to each of the Az-kye gods and goddesses. The grounds also held enclosed parks with fountains and gardens where jaha birds proudly strutted, their iridescent feathers shimmering in the sun as they spread their wings in display. The Imperial palace was a riot of color and carving but every person from highest clan leader to servant was dressed in black.
Warriors wore black anyway and there were so many of them about that Kyndan almost didn’t notice the one warrior who looked back at him with amused green eyes.
“Tedah!” he said, smiling.
His friend caught himself before smiling back—warriors didn’t smile in public—but his hand clasped Kyndan’s warmly.
“Gods, it’s good to see you, Kyn,” Tedah said.
“You too,” Kyndan said. He turned his attention to the pretty young woman at Tedah’s side. “This must be Lianna.”
“Yes,” Tedah said with a loving look at her.
“I am pleased to meet you, Commander Maere,” she said.
“Call me Kyndan,” he said. “Believe me, Tedah talked about you nonstop for months. I might know you better than I know him.”
Lianna smiled. “I was very pleased when he came home.”
The idea of Tedah considering Az-kye home after being enslaved here was ludicrous but Kyndan gave a nod anyway. “He sure missed you.”
“How’s everyone on Rusco?” Tedah asked as they followed Kinara and Aidar into the palace.
“Your father says he’ll never forgive you. Your mother says not to listen to your father.” Kyndan paused. “But she also says a grandchild will do a lot to swing things back in your favor.”
Tedah’s mouth twitched. “She said that?”
“She made me write it down,” Kyndan said, then more seriously added, “They miss you.”
“I miss them too,” Tedah said quietly. “But,” he said, cheering, “once you get this treaty done I’ll be able to take Lianna for a visit.”
“And they will be able to come here,” Lianna said.
Tedah seemed to suck his upper lip inward a little and Kyndan realized he’d done it to keep from laughing.
“What are you thinking, my mate?” Lianna asked, with amused suspicion.
Tedah’s mouth twitched a bit again. “I’m just very much looking forward to introducing my father to your mother.”
When Lianna walked ahead to have a word with Kinara, Tedah looked at Kyndan. “How are the Tellarans taking the idea of peace with the Az-kye?”
Kyndan gave a half shrug. “Politicians are for it, so’s most of the populace.”
“The Fleet?”
In a palace hallway filled with black-clad courtiers, his blue and white dress uniform was gathering a lot of curious glances. “A little more cautious, but that’s to be expected.”
Tedah gave him a level look. “What about you?”
Kyndan looked away. “Peace is always best,” he said. “Isn’t it?”
“Kyn, I know you might still have some—”
“Not the time,” Kyndan broke in shortly. “Or the place.”
“Right,” Tedah said, then after a moment continued, “So isn’t the palace amazing? Being here is like being transported back in time to the court of the Tellaran king.”
“Yeah, still, just one person with that kind of power . . . It’s a little, uh, narrow.”
“It’s sure more efficient than the republic. The empress wants something done, she just does it. No debate, no motions voted on by a room of representatives. Her word is law.”
Kyndan glanced ahead at his sister. She’d made a name for herself among the Az-kye by getting a seat on the Council for Trade. “What about the Councils?”
“Yeah, there’s some bureaucracy,” Tedah admitted. “There’s certainly the opportunity to move up in influence if you’re ambitious.”
“And belong to the warrior caste,” Kyndan returned in a low voice, glancing around at the black-clad warriors and their ladies.
“The Realm had princes and kings,” Tedah said with a shrug. “The Az-kye have clan leaders and an empress.”
Surrounded by so many of their people—and headed to meet the ruler these people worshipped as second only to their gods—was not the time to give his opinion on their backward, barbaric ways.
“So, what’s that?” Kyndan asked with a nod at the scrolling artwork that took a third of the upper edge of the wall. It was elaborate, detailed work, accented with gold leaf and jewels that sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the high windows.
“Well, this is the hall that leads to Lashima’s sanctuary and that,” Tedah said, “is a depiction of The Thousand Nights.”
“Oh.” He should never have let Kinara and his father talk him into coming back here. Being surrounded by Az-kye again, hearing the buzz of their language, set his teeth on edge. Just the smell of this world brought back ugly memories of defeat and brutal beatings—
“You know, the story of Ren’thar and Lashima?” prompted Tedah.
“I kind of skimmed their spiritual beliefs,” Kyndan admitted in Tellaran. Switching languages earned him a couple of disapproving looks but better that than say in Az-kye that he barely knew a festering thing about their gods.
Tedah lowered his voice to answer in the same language. “It’s the story of how Ren’thar, the warrior god, took a thousand nights to seduce the goddess Lashima.”
“Patient guy,” Kyndan said wryly.
Tedah didn’t laugh of course—he had to control his expressions like any other Az-kye warrior now—but his mouth quirked upward a bit and his eyes flashed with amusement. “Yeah, well some of that legend is very, uh, detailed.”
Kyndan glanced at the artwork again but this stuff seemed tame enough—the mighty god offering his lady goddess fruits, summoning birds to sing for her, turning a river to fill a cup of water for her. “Az-kye erotica?”
“You should get a copy,” Tedah said. “You know, in the interests of cultural understanding.”
Kyndan shot him a disbelieving look. Ancient Az-kye religious texts weren’t going to have anything he hadn’t heard of before. “Yeah, maybe.”
One of the Az-kye ladies looked him over as she passed, a small smile on her mouth and her gaze speculative over her fan.
“Besides,” Tedah said, “before marriage, women here are very . . . open to experience.”
“Absolutely not,” Kyndan said flatly.
Tedah raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think they’re attractive?”
“Look, Tedah, I only agreed to come because it was my last chance to see Kinna before the baby arrives. In a week I head back to Tellaran space then I ship out for a four-month patrol. I was out of the game for a year,” he reminded. “We both know I’m damned lucky to get a command again at all.” Kyndan threw a disdainful glance at the image of Ren’thar kneeling adoringly at Lashima’s feet, the god’s powerful arms bending a rainbow as an offering to her. “The last thing I need in my life right now is some kind of romantic complication.”
Kinara caught his eye. She, Lianna, and Aidar were standing beside a snowy-haired woman and it was clear from his sister’s urgent glance that she wanted him over there.
“Elder,” she said as he joined them, “allow me to present the Tellaran representative, Commander Kyndan Maere. Commander, this is Sechon, Leader of the Council of Elders.”
Kyndan inclined his head. Sechon was sturdily built with a strong proud carriage despite her snowy hair. “A pleasure, Elder.”
“And a pleasure to meet you as well, Commander,” Sechon said warmly, her dark eyes sharp and intelligent. “You are the first Tellaran I have met.”
Kyndan kept himself from glancing at Kinara or Tedah, both who, despite being obviously of Tellaran birth, were reckoned Az-kye through their marriages. His sister was an Az-kye lady; he was a no-account Tellaran.
The sooner he got back home where things made sense, the better.
“I hope I’m the first of many,” he said. “Maybe someday you’ll visit Tellaran space.”
“Do you know, such never occurred to me.” The elder looked delighted. “Perhaps someday, Commander, I shall.”
“Sechon has been a great supporter of the peace talks,” Kinara said.
“Well, then, my people owe you a debt of gratitude for your efforts on our behalf,” Kyndan said.
“The Lady of the Az’anti gives me too much credit,” Sechon said with a laugh. “It is she who made the talks possible, but I was pleased to have offered what assistance I could. It is a time of hope for all of us. But,” she said, with a regretful smile, “I have one or two things to see to before Her Majesty bestows her official sanction. If you will excuse me?”
“Of course,” Kinara said.
“I look forward to speaking with you more at another time, Commander,” Sechon said.
“She seems nice,” Kyndan said when the elder was out of earshot.
“She is Leader of the Council of Elders,” Aidar said. “And as the empress’ most trusted advisor Sechon has the ear of the empress.”
“Well, then I’m glad she’s on our side,” Kyndan said.
There was a stir at the end of the hall, a murmur.
“The First Imperial Daughter,” Aidar said quietly.
Kinara threw a worried glance at him. “Okay, remember—”
“Princess. Bow,” Kyndan muttered. “I got it, Kinna.”
In perfect civility, the center of the hall cleared as the Az-kye drew toward the walls to make way for the princess and her retinue to pass.
Two warriors preceded her and around her walked no fewer than eight women. The princess was surrounded but her attendants kept respectful distance, leaving a circle of isolation around her. The women were older, their heads held proudly, dressed all in the black and gold of Servants of the Empress.
She was young, slender, far too delicate looking to be heiress to the throne of such a vast empire. She seemed to be swallowed in her formal black gown and her elaborately dressed dark hair shone like ribbons in this light. Her skin was smooth and pale, her full pink mouth drawn as if she held back a deep inner hurt by will alone.
She was pretty enough, he supposed, but Kyndan had never been one for the fragile type.
Sighing inwardly, Kyndan moved back with the others, impatient for the princess to pass, impatient for this mission to be over. He wondered if he would have to stay the whole week on Az-kye or if he could manage to bow out of some of the festivities his sister planned for his visit and get back to Tellaran space early. He would be taking command of the cruiser Sertarian shortly after his return; he still hadn’t met with his first officer and he had a dozen personnel postings to approve.
The princess and her attendants were a scant few paces away now and everyone in the area dropped their eyes, bowing respectfully at her approach.
Except Kyndan.
He knew he was supposed to. Certainly Kinara had impressed the vital importance of observing royal protocol upon him.
He just couldn’t.
Because in that moment she looked right at him. Velvety, soft black, her eyes were haunted by a sadness that speared him to his core.
And suddenly there was no Fleet, no Tellaran Realm, no Empire, no palace.
Just her . . .
Alari dragged her feet but the press of Imperial attendants around her propelled her forward. At the eastern end of the palace lay the doors to Lashima’s sanctuary where she and Jazan would make their vows. The distance was far too short. Along her path, every person stood with eyes downcast and heads bent in acknowledgment of the First Imperial Daughter.
Save one.
One man looked boldly at her. He was tall as a warrior and broad through the shoulders but his hair was short as no warrior would wear it. Warm brown was a hair color sometimes seen among the Az-kye but wavy like his, never. In a sea of black, his clothes of dark blue and white tied with a yellow sash set him apart and he wore no sword at his back.
Tellaran.
She had seen only a very few of them and always from a distance. Tellarans had been kept as slaves until the red-haired clan leader at the man’s side had returned them all to their own space. Certainly none of them had ever been permitted within a dozen paces of an Imperial princess before.
Alari never expected to see one of them so close and she passed within an arm’s length of him. The color of the sky in summer, the Tellaran’s intelligent eyes held echoes of both deep pain and humor, the skin around them greater creased with care than should be at his age. His handsome, square-jawed face was more expressive than any warrior’s would be and as she met his gaze, his brow creased ever so slightly, his full mouth parting.
She had the sudden impulse to reach out, to thrust her hand around those who stood between them for him to clasp. Alari could almost feel the warmth and strength of his fingers wrapping around hers.
And then they were past him and she was in the
sea of black, of downcast eyes and bent heads again.
Tedah nudged him. “Hey, you okay?”
Kyndan blinked. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You were supposed to bow,” Tedah reminded with a quick worried glance around them. No one else seemed to have noticed his breech of protocol. “In fact, you looked dazed for a minute there.”
Kyndan looked down the hall. He couldn’t see her any longer. The murmur of conversation resumed, the buzz of the Az-kye language humming in his ears again as the courtiers and servants crowded back into the center of the aisle and blocked his view.
She was on her way to get married, for frack’s sake.
“I’m fine,” Kyndan repeated.
Tedah was frowning at him.
He gave a short laugh to shake off the last of his bemusement, drawing scandalized looks from the nearby Az-kye.
Right, no laughing.
“So,” Kyndan said. “I guess we should get over to the sanctuary so the empress can give her blessing or whatever.”
“Actually,” Kinara began brightly, “the elder said that to show her favor for the treaty, the empress will be acknowledging us at the end, right before the princess and her betrothed make their formal declaration.”
“Ah,” Kyndan said.
“It is a great honor,” Aidar said.
“In the Tellaran culture, most important usually goes first,” Kyndan said.
He read surprise in Lianna and Aidar’s dark eyes.
“Because otherwise you have people standing around waiting,” he explained.
They looked at him blankly.
“It shows you think their time is important.” He said this last bit a little too sharply.
“That’s not how the Az-kye see it,” Kinara put in quickly. “They see it as not rushing you out of the way to get to someone with more status.”
“So what you’re saying is to make us happy they make us go last?”
“Well,” Kinara said with a half-shrug. “Second to last.”
The Consort (Tellaran Series) Page 2
