The Consort (Tellaran Series)

by Ariel MacArran

  Kyndan gave Alari a wry look. “So, am I impressing you yet?”

  Just then Laric, Kinara’s maid, crossed the hall and spied him in the doorway.

  “Metara, that is the Tellaran ambassador! He is an honored guest here,” she admonished and waved her hand impatiently. “Foolish child. Step aside and allow him enter!”

  Her face flushed, the girl scurried out of the way and Kyndan gave her a reassuring smile as they passed to show he wasn’t offended.

  “Is Kinara still up?” he asked Laric and glanced up the stairway. “I thought we could say hi.”

  Laric glanced between them then, her expression so puzzled that Kyndan wondered for a moment if he had slipped back into speaking Tellaran.

  Laric’s gaze rested on Alari and her brow creased. Suddenly her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened and closed and in that moment Kyndan had the unkind thought that his sister’s most trusted attendant looked very like a mohu fish.

  “Imperial Daughter,” she gasped and bowed low.

  Alari’s cheeks pinkened becomingly but her eyes flickered her discomfort to Kyndan. “Rise.”

  Laric straightened, her throat working. “Imperial Daughter, my lady is—” The little housemaid was staring openmouthed at Alari; Laric put a hand to the girl’s back and pushed her toward the stairs. “Tell your lady to come at once!” she hissed at the girl. Laric looked back at Alari as the girl ran up the stairs. “My lady is—I—we did not expect Your Highness.”

  “No, I—please forgive the intrusion,” Alari said quickly.

  Laric’s hand went to her chest. “Your Highness could never intrude! Oh, but our clanhouse is shamefully unprepared for—!”

  “Laric, it’s fine,” Kyndan interrupted. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind.”

  The sound of running footsteps could be heard on the second floor and in the next moment the little maid, Aidar—looking hastily dressed—and Kinara, her sleeping robe tied over her rounded belly, were coming down the stairs.

  Aidar bowed as soon as he got to the bottom of the stairs and Kinara threw Kyndan a look that was both wide-eyed and aggravated; then she too bowed.

  “Imperial Daughter,” she intoned, sounding out of breath as she bowed, her red hair hanging loose around her face.

  “Lady of the Az’anti,” Alari returned, her cheeks reddened now.

  “We, uh, we weren’t expecting you,” Kinara said, straightening. “We haven’t prepared the household for—” Looking utterly flustered, Kinara turned to her maid. “Laric?”

  “I will—” the attendant broke off and whirled, urging the young housemaid ahead of her. “Tell the kitchens!” she said in fierce whisper. “Find Lerita!”

  Kinara watched her maid go as if dismayed to find herself abandoned so and she and Aidar exchanged looks.

  “Your Highness, I beg forgiveness for our poor welcome.” Kinara shifted her weight. “Uh, to our shame—”

  “Okay,” Kyndan broke in. “Enough! Just stop!” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, we’re tired and we just wanted to say a quick hello before we went to our room.”

  Kinara blinked. “Your room. Oh. Okay.”

  She exchanged another glance with Aidar.

  “Okay,” she said again. “Look, Kyn, I mean Kyndan—I mean Imperial mate, I thought, we all thought, that—We weren’t expecting—Oh, man.” She closed her eyes for a moment and threw her hands out. “How about some tea?”

  “Yeah, sure, perfect,” Kyndan said, relieved his sister was finally remembering her manners. “Tea sounds great. What do you think, Alari? Tea?”

  She nodded quickly and it was hard to tell really which one of the three was the most uncomfortable.

  “How about—” Kinara’s glance darted about. “Okay, let’s—sitting room! Everybody into the front sitting room.”

  His sister turned that way and Kyndan noticed that Kinara had recently picked up tiny bit of a waddle to her walk. Aidar strode ahead to open the doors for her.

  Alari looked up at him, her dark eyes filled with agonized embarrassment.

  “See? I told you.” Kyndan said dryly. “That went just fine.”

  An hour later Alari walked with Kyndan to the quarters he’d been given at the uppermost floor of the clanhouse. She looked around curiously as he closed the door behind them.

  “I know it’s not what you’re used to,” Kyndan said, extending his hand and inviting her to explore. “But it’s pretty comfortable.”

  The rooms were done in soothing greens and blues. The bed was charmingly tucked into an alcove and the fire in the small sitting area already lit. There was a bathing chamber with a bathing pool, sweeping balconies on either side of the suite, and windows all around.

  The suite was pleasant but revealed little of her new mate’s personality and held only scant evidence that he resided here at all. A datapad was left tossed casually on the table; she could just see a bag on the floor of the dressing area off the bathing chamber, and the closet appeared empty but for a few folded things.

  The doors to the balcony off the sitting area were open and Alari stepped out to breathe in the sweet evening air. Festive lanterns dotted the city like thousands of twinkle bugs and in the distance she could see the shining spires of the palace.

  “Pretty good view, huh?” His face flushed. “Not as good as what you’re used to, I know . . .”

  “It is lovely,” Alari said softly.

  Kyndan cleared his throat. “I asked Kinara to send some things up for you to use tonight. They should be in the dressing room.”

  “She is kind,” Alari said. “Our sister.”

  “Yeah, Kinara’s got a big heart.” He smiled fondly. “Almost as big as her mouth. That means,” he explained when Alari gave him a puzzled look, “she sometimes talks before she thinks things through.”

  “She is well thought of,” Alari offered. “Some say she is a Stardancer.”

  He gave a careless shrug. “I don’t know much about the legend. Tellarans don’t have anything like that. But if anyone could turn out to be a goddess’ favorite human it’s Kinna.”

  Alari gave him a smile. “I think so too of Saria.”

  She went back inside. She brushed her hand along the back of the carved chairs, the polished wood floor smooth beneath her slippers. The fire gave off the warm scent of fragranced wood and someone had left light refreshments in the small dining area.

  “Is this okay? I mean, we can still head back to the palace.”

  “No, I would we stay here, Kyndan.” Experimentally Alari touched the mattress then sat down on it. “A fine bed.”

  He cleared his throat again. “Yeah, it’s pretty comfortable.”

  Impulsively she toed her slippers off and swung her legs up to lie down. It was a wide bed with many pillows, the bed linens fine and soft beneath her fingers. Not nearly as large as the intricately carved bed with its brocade hangings that she had known as First Daughter yet this bed seemed warmer, more welcoming somehow.

  In a rush of fear and excitement she realized that Kyndan had lain here, in this bed, last night.

  That shortly he would lie beside her.

  “It is so,” she agreed, a little breathless. She studied the ceiling above the bed and gave him a quick, shy smile. “It will be curious to wake somewhere else.”

  “Wake somewhere else?”

  “Than the quarters of the First Daughter.”

  He came to the foot of the bed, leaning against the carved hitiwood bedpost. “You’ve never slept anywhere outside the palace?”

  “Nowhere but my chambers.” She sat up. “When we were children Saria would sometimes sleep in my room. We would hide beneath the covers and tell secrets.”

  “Kinara and I were close when we were kids.” He smiled faintly as he too sat on the bed. “You and your sister—are you still friends?”

  “She is my only friend,” Alari said.

  “Princesses aren’t allowed to have friends?”

  She clasped her hands in her la
p. “Allowed, yes. But no one offers friendship to the First Daughter without the anticipation of reward.”

  “So they were your friends because you were going to be empress?” His brow furrowed. “Is that why no one was standing with you today when we made our declarations? Because you were disinherited?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your sister?” he asked sharply. “She didn’t stand with you either.”

  “Saria is First now. My mother’s heiress. She cannot risk displeasing her or . . .”

  He raised his eyebrows. “She’ll be married off to a barbarian?”

  “No, Saria is now the only heiress. She will be someday take the throne and must have a proper Az-kye mate.” Alari wet her lips. “Her Imperial Majesty intended our mating to be my punishment, Kyndan.” She looked at her hands and her voice was very soft. “But I do not find it so.”

  “I’m glad,” he said hoarsely.

  Through the open balcony doors came the faint sounds of those celebrating into the night, while inside, the crackle of the fire and her own quickening breath filled her ears. They were alone, sitting side by side on the bed they would share tonight, and she saw in his eyes that he realized it too.

  Trembling, her heart hammering, Alari moved closer. Her hand slid over the bed linens, resting just beside his. He had been so gentle with her today. The specter of Jazan’s ugliness still hovered at the edge of her mind but if Kyndan were gentle with her now perhaps—

  He stood. “Well, you’re probably pretty tired. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

  “Will you not be sleeping now too, Kyndan?” Alari asked, her heart sinking.

  “I’ve actually got some work I should do. I didn’t get a chance to write my report to the Council about the status of the peace talks. They’ll be expecting it.”

  “I will wait for you,” she offered.

  “No. I might be up for hours,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Go ahead and get some rest. We don’t have anything planned till midday so you’ll be able to sleep in. They’ve arranged some such thing or other tomorrow. Tour of the city, that kind of stuff.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. She had been so relieved today when he said it would be long before they joined, let alone were bound. Now she did not know what to think and she blinked back tears before he should see them.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” He hesitated then gently cupping her cheek he pressed the lightest of kisses to her forehead. “Sleep well, Alari.”

  She nodded, willing herself not to cry until the door shut behind him.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t use my right cross, Kyn,” Kinara said the next morning, her rounded cheeks pink with anger. His sister had waylaid him on his way down to the kitchens and grabbed his arm to pull him into her apartments. “How the hell could you embarrass me like that?”

  Kyndan scrubbed his face with his hands. “Maybe you could let me have a cup of caf before you lay into me? I didn’t get much sleep.”

  She glared at him for a moment then snapped off an order to one of her maids while he and Aidar exchanged nods. Morning light streamed through the windows and while her attendants had laid out breakfast, that particular Tellaran beverage wasn’t usually one of the offerings. He’d brought some for his visit and a bunch more for Kinara to enjoy after he left.

  He took the cup Sella offered and nodded his thanks. Sella was a pretty thing, especially when she smiled in return, but he couldn’t forget how she hadn’t even bothered acknowledging his existence when he’d been a slave here. One of the many things he didn’t miss about Az-kye.

  “You should have sent me a fracking message, given me some warning—something!”

  Kyndan took a seat at the table and took a grateful swallow of caf. “I didn’t think it was going to be such an issue.”

  “An issue?” Kinara threw an outraged look at Aidar. “He shows up on our doorstep an hour before midnight—unannounced—with an Imperial Daughter and he didn’t think it would be an issue!”

  “I still don’t understand what the problem is,” Kyndan grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “She’s my wife, she’s your sister-in-law. Are we going to need an engraved invitation every time we visit?”

  “Look, Kyn, there are very strict rules of etiquette that have to be followed in Az-kye society. You can’t just run around doing whatever you want!” She sent a narrow gaze at her mate. “Not one word, Aidar. I mean it.”

  Aidar’s mouth twitched then his face smoothed to warrior impassivity. “I do not think to speak of such.”

  His sister’s eyes flashed dangerously and Kyndan held up a hand before Kinara’s temper went critical. “Look we had to go somewhere and believe me we weren’t welcome at the palace.”

  Kinara’s brow creased as she eased herself into a chair. “Why do you say that?”

  “Uh, well, let’s see,” Kyndan said, pretending to frown. “None of the courtiers—including her sister—were speaking to her, her own mother didn’t hang around to wish us well after the wedding, and all of Alari’s attendants had already taken off for better prospects. In fact, the only way we could have felt any less welcome is if the Imperial guard had thrown us out on our asses.”

  Kinara exchanged a look with Aidar. “I didn’t know it was like that for her.”

  Kyndan lifted his cup again. “In case you’ve forgotten, marrying me was supposed to be as bad as being cast out of the clan.”

  Kinara glanced at the doorway. “Speaking of which—”

  “Utar,” Kyndan said in greeting at seeing who it was. “You’re looking better.”

  The disgraced warrior gave him a spare glance then lowered his eyes again. He did look much better than he had the night before. Still very thin, of course, but he no longer had that desperate look of hunger in his eyes. He’d bathed and his clothes, still white, were clean and new.

  “He’s all set for you,” Kinara said.

  Kyndan’s gaze snapped to his sister. “For me? What are you talking about?”

  “Your servant,” she said with a nod at Utar. “My clan has fed and clothed him. He’s been given a bed on our estate so he’ll be nearby to serve you. Oh, don’t worry, I deducted the cost from the funds you’ve been provided for the mission for your slave’s keeping.”

  “My—?” Kyndan broke off and threw a look at the one-time warrior. “Hey, do me a favor, Utar—Go to the kitchens and tell them to brew more caf, okay?”

  The man bent his head in acknowledgment and when Kyndan was sure Utar was out of earshot, he gave Kinara a sharp look. “My what?”

  “Your slave,” Kinara repeated. “You told me to house him for you. I did.”

  “I told you to take him in for you.”

  “The Az’anti clan doesn’t own any slaves, Kyndan,” she said coolly. “I’m pretty sure you remember why.”

  “Only the Az-kye practice slavery, I’m Tellaran,” he reminded tightly. “I can’t own a slave, Kinna. He has to stay with you.”

  “Oh, hell, no, Kyn. He’s yours, all right.”

  Kyndan held her gaze but Kinara met him look for look.

  “Okay, fine,” he gritted out. “I want him freed anyway.”

  “Free a slave in Az-kye space. Great plan.” Kinara raised her eyebrows, her expression politely interested. “How are you going to do that again?”

  “I’ll just free him,” Kyndan snapped.

  “Again, how? I mean if it were that easy I would have freed you, right? I wouldn’t have had to gather all the Tellarans and return them to Tellaran space, I could have just—” she made a flinging gesture “—freed them all.”

  “Okay, you’re the expert on Az-kye society. How do I free him?”

  Kinara considered. “Well, he could marry into a clan with the clan leaders’ permission. That is, if anyone wanted to marry someone clanless which no sane”—she glanced at Aidar, who grinned at her—“person would do. Once every two or three hundred years or so one of them is freed by Imperial decree. You have an in at the
palace, maybe you could try that.”

  “That’s it?” Kyndan demanded. “Those are the options?”

  “Or Tellaran space,” Aidar offered.

  “But in the meantime . . .” Kinara took a sip from her cup. “Hey, this is good caf, Kyn. Thanks for bringing it.”

  Kyndan passed his hand over his eyes. “Well, I’m really looking forward to making my report to Admiral Henon now.” He stood, took up an at-ease stance and gave a nod to the imaginary admiral. “‘No, Sir, no treaty, but I married an Az-kye princess, accidently acquired a slave, and—oh, I forgot to mention—the empress hates my Tellaran ass. That’s right, Sir, all in the first forty-eight hours of the mission.’”

  “Commander Maere!” Laric said sharply from the doorway.

  “I don’t think Admiral Henon is the worst of your problems right now, Kyn,” his sister said, looking at him over her cup.

  Laric’s nostrils were flared, her skirts billowing out as she barreled his way.

  Sighing, Kyndan turned to face the maid.

  He had slept beside her.

  There was an indentation on the other pillow and very faint scent of him in the bedclothes. Alari reached across the bed to rest her hand where his body had lain.

  Despite his urging that she should not wait for his return, she had tried to remain awake but the day had been very long. At some point she had fallen asleep and he had come and gone again before she awoke.

  For the first time in her life, she had awakened in an unfamiliar place. For a moment she just lay luxuriating in the newness, in the astonishment of finding her life, the path of which had been determined from the moment she had drawn her first breath, now so radically altered.

  Alari’s fingers traced the smooth linen where Kyndan had slept.

  Her experience with Jazan had been so painful that she, who used to giggle and whisper with Saria over men who set her breath quickening, who had been brought up to think of coupling as a joyous gift from the gods, had felt not a flicker of desire at the sight of any man for nearly a year.