A gold-accented black eyepatch for Dak that Yanko knew he would never use—and a fancy new dagger that he might. Some pretty writing journals for Tynlee. A new bow for Lakeo and a cutlass for Arayevo. His family members had received, depending on their age, rice wine or sugar-crystal-coated frog candies that were ridiculously popular in the Great City—apparently, there had been riots when one of the factions had thoughtlessly destroyed one of the factories where they were made. And finally, he’d asked a jeweler to make something special and unique for Jhali using the turquoise and silver she liked. He’d suggested something with a tortoise since they’d twice had bonding—and once kissing—moments near that shrine in Yellow Delta. The jeweler had made something much more elegant than he’d envisioned.
“Good evening, Honored Mage Hunter,” Yanko said with a bow as she approached. “Did you come to see the progress I’ve made in the garden? Or perhaps the beehives I ordered? I haven’t gone hunting for swarms yet in order to populate them—something that will be interesting since we’re in the middle of a city—but that’s the plan. Bees will be incredibly important for pollinating vegetation and trees on the new continent.”
Jhali stopped in front of him, grasped his hands, and kissed him. “Thank you for the anklet.”
“You’re welcome.” He squeezed her hands.
“And I’ve already seen your bee boxes. I didn’t know what they were and feared they might be explosives, so I inspected them personally when they came in the door.”
“Explosives? That would alarm the bees.” He tilted his head. “You inspected them personally? Have you taken over as chief of palace security?”
“Oh no. The guards are all disturbed by me. Even though I haven’t been wearing my mage-hunter clothes… and am not associated with the sect anymore, they all seem to know.”
“That sounds like an excellent reason to be in charge of them.” He grinned.
He was joking, but she hesitated thoughtfully. “Do you think I should apply for the position? I’ve been uncomfortable accepting the free food and room and just loitering around. But I haven’t been sure… Well, I’ve already admitted to you that I’m not sure what I am anymore. Now that I’m not what I was trained to be since I was a little girl.”
“An incredibly competent warrior who can be anything she wants.” He squeezed her hands again and led her toward a bench near a wall full of vining plants.
His brain boggled at the idea that she might have to apply for the job. If she wanted it, he would make that happen. But did she want it? She didn’t sound excited at that idea.
Having her be chief of palace security might be better than having her as his bodyguard, when it came to status differences, but she would still be working for him, and they would have an employee/employer relationship when he wanted them to be equals. Equals and together. He wondered how President Starcrest and his Kyattese wife worked together, with her as his head of Intelligence. Was it ever strange? Did they butt heads? They’d been married for twenty years before either of them entered those offices, so they’d had a long time to grow comfortable with each other first.
Across the garden, Dak and Tynlee entered, strolling down an aisle and admiring the part of the courtyard that Yanko hadn’t disturbed for his experiments. The flowers and fruit trees that had been neglected during the chaos were doing well now, thanks to his touch. He supposed he should hire a gardener, but coming out here in the early morning and evening before and after his various duties relaxed him.
“I keep thinking I should bid you farewell and leave to find my path on my own,” Jhali admitted quietly after she and Yanko sat down.
Yanko couldn’t keep himself from tightening his grip on her hand possessively. He made his voice light as he said, “But you’ve realized how terribly you would pine for me if you left?”
“Something like that.” She bowed her head and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.
The simple gesture sent a zing of heat through him, and if they had been alone in the garden, he would have been tempted to pull her into his lap for some vigorous kissing.
“If you could have any job or career in the world, what would it be?” he asked, keeping the second part of the question to himself: And would it ruin it if I were the one to give it to you?
“I’ve thought about that. Your suggestion of school was interesting, but I endured so much training that I’m not eager to spend my days at something similar. And I always preferred martial and athletic endeavors to academic ones. Back before this all started, I was starting to teach the younger girls at our sect. I enjoyed teaching.”
“Oh? Maybe you should be in charge of the palace guard.” He smiled at her. “Or you could start your own school in the city. You could teach anyone who wanted to learn how to defend themselves or, uhm, preferably not how to assassinate people. Maybe you could even specialize in young women who want to become guards or soldiers or just be able to take care of themselves. The Great City is populous enough that you ought to be able to attract enough people willing to pay that the school could be profitable.”
“Start a school?” she mused, sounding more intrigued than he would have guessed.
Could he imagine the stern and taciturn Jhali mentoring effervescent teenage girls? He wasn’t sure. He also wasn’t sure when he’d started to think of teenage girls as being young, considering he still had another year before he would age out of that demographic.
“I would invest in that,” Tynlee said from across the courtyard.
“Are you eavesdropping, Honored Consul?” Yanko asked.
“Of course. It’s so difficult to mind-snoop with mage hunters. I have to use other means of spying on their conversations.”
“But you’re a Nurian diplomat. You’re not supposed to spy on Nurian conversations.”
“No? Are you certain?” Tynlee looked at Dak.
“I haven’t observed that she obeys many rules,” Dak told Yanko, then looked down at Tynlee’s feet.
She wasn’t wearing any shoes. She wiggled her toes for him.
“Invest?” Jhali asked curiously.
“Of course,” Tynlee said. “If you’re going to start a business, you’ll need to rent a space, buy some equipment—mats and sandbags, at the least, I should think—and do some advertising to acquire new students. Perhaps you could target the moksu families that live in the city, parents who want their children to be able to defend themselves in case more unrest comes along. Let’s hope not, but the new Great Chief is descended from pirates. Who knows what manner of riffraff might roam through the streets on the way to visit him?”
Yanko almost choked, but Tynlee burbled on.
“Admittedly, a martial arts instruction academy shouldn’t cost too much to get started. If you allowed me to help finance it, while giving me a small percentage of the equity, of course, I have a great number of university contacts who could help get the word out. This would be a wonderful opportunity for me. I’ve had a little money stashed away but haven’t quite known what to do with it.”
“I… shall consider it, Honored Consul.” Jhali touched a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Yanko was surprised by how intrigued Jhali seemed, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been. What Tynlee described sounded a bit like what a mage-hunter sect might be like. A lot of martial training, camaraderie between those who worked and studied together, freedom from a lot of outside intervention. Maybe she would even end up with students who could take on various assignments once they were experienced enough. Not assassinations, he hoped, but convoy guards or city watchmen or women?
And Jhali wouldn’t be employed by Yanko, so maybe that would make it less awkward when they dated. Or maybe even more than dated one day. If she owned her own business and didn’t have to answer to him, then they could have the relationship of equals, more or less, that he’d imagined.
You’re welcome, Yanko, Tynlee said into his mind as she and Dak w
alked out of the garden, hand-in-hand.
Thank you, Tynlee.
It was the least I could do for a boy polite enough not to comment on finding his Turgonian bodyguard naked in bed with a Nurian diplomat, and his trousers dangling from the ceiling fan.
Yanko couldn’t keep from laughing and asking, Will that adventure show up in your spy novel?
The adventure of Dak’s trousers? Oh, I don’t think so. A girl must keep some things secret. Good night, Yanko.
Good night.
Jhali looked at him curiously, and Yanko tried to find a way to explain the laugh.
He shrugged and said, “Tynlee and I were discussing Dak’s trousers.”
“She’s a quirky woman.”
“Yes, she is. What would you think of her as a business partner?”
“That she would be wise and a good mentor. And also snoop in my students’ minds.”
“I agree with all of those things. With her present for admissions, you wouldn’t have to worry about any of your students being an assassin in disguise.”
“You’re far more likely to earn the ire of an assassin than I.”
“Me?” Yanko touched his chest. “I’m affable, inoffensive, and, as everyone points out, naive. Who would point an assassin in my direction?”
“Time for bed,” Kei called from across the courtyard. “Time for bed, puntak mouth-breathers. Puntak mouth-breathers.”
“My parrot might earn the ire of an assassin.” Yanko wondered who’d taught him an addition to his slur. He’d noticed that the younger members of the palace staff found Kei’s crude mouth delightful and rewarded him with all manner of food treats when he slung insults.
“Yes,” Jhali said. “You’d better keep Tynlee at the palace to screen potential threats to your pet.”
“My pet? I don’t think I can call him that. I’ve heard rumors that he’s my familiar and can throw fireballs from his beak.”
“I’ve heard similar rumors. Also that there’s a series of children’s books in the works starring his exploits.”
“His exploits?” Yanko’s jaw dropped.
Jhali squinted thoughtfully at him. “Were you hoping for books about you?”
“No, never. Of course not.” Yanko frowned over at Kei. “But that was before I heard my bird was going to star in a book line. Now, I may be experiencing feelings of envy and inadequacy.”
“Perhaps you could ask Tynlee to write a novel about your exploits.”
“I don’t have enough muscles to interest her as a subject,” Yanko said glumly.
“If that’s true, that seems shortsighted.” Jhali leaned closer and rested a hand on his chest. “Your muscles are nice. I was pleasantly surprised the first time I saw you shirtless.”
“Really?”
Jhali nodded, no hint of sarcasm or teasing in her eyes. “Really. There may have even been naughty dreams after I saw you sparring in the sun that day.”
“Naughty dreams? About me?” He knew his grin was goofy, but he couldn’t help it.
“If I told you a lot of women are likely having them now, will that help reduce your feelings of inadequacy?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I only care what one woman thinks, the one fondling my chest.” Yanko slipped his arm around her waist. “You know, we’re alone in this garden now.”
A few squawks came from the direction of Kei’s perch.
“Alone, you say? I suspect we’d get an impressive amount of commentary if we had horizontal escapades in the courtyard.” Despite her words, Jhali slid her hand under his tunic and explored his muscles more closely.
Yanko’s brain forgot how to make words for a moment. That was wonderful.
She paused and raised her eyebrows.
“We could be more alone if we adjourned to a room with a door,” he offered.
“A room with a door and a bed?”
“If you like. I’m amenable to having escapades with you anywhere. Garden benches. Picnic blankets. Tortoise shrines.”
“All we did was kiss in that shrine.”
“It’s not all I wanted to do,” Yanko murmured, gazing at her lips.
“Is that so?” She clasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Why don’t you show me what else you had in mind.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
THE END
* * *
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Great Chief (Chains of Honor, Book 4) Page 36
