To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)

by Jayla Jasso

  He didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Would you? If you had a crystal ball and could see the results of Gerynwid’s murderous jealousy, would you have flirted with the servant girl?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “You didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  He wanted to allow her encouragement to fully lift his burden of guilt, but in the end he knew he didn’t deserve the reprieve. He sighed heavily. “Graciella, don’t try to absolve me of this crime tonight. It is a fact that I was sleeping with both women, and that was wrong. The Gods won’t be pleased if I don’t wake up and change my ways before it’s too late.”

  “Well, I think you have changed your ways, and to me you’re a brave, honorable man. To swear an oath of celibacy and keep it takes a strength most men will never know.”

  “Perhaps, but I have been very close to breaking it many times since you arrived.”

  “Well, that shall change as of now. I promise not to keep chasing you. After tonight, how could I continue flirting with you with a straight face?”

  He chuckled at her innocent naiveté. “I’m not sure your lack of chasing and flirting will help much.”

  “Of course it will. I’ll stay out of your way, and you can go back to focusing on running your country instead of being hounded by me. You can go back to the way you were before I arrived.”

  He thought about that. About how lonely, cold, and bitter he felt before she arrived. His conscience told him to back away now, send her to her cot, and to try to get some sleep before dawn.

  But his heart said to admit to himself that he was falling in love with her, to gather her into his arms and hold her tight, all night if need be, because he had a few demons of his own that needed dispelling tonight.

  “Well, I should let you get some sleep.” She rose to her feet.

  He stood as well and grasped her upper arms through the filstoc fur. “Graciella…”

  She raised up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  He gazed down at her sweet, tear-stained face, reaching up to gently free some strands of hair that were stuck to her cheek by dried tears. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he murmured, caressing her soft cheek with the pad of his thumb. He leaned down, intent on closing the gap between his mouth and her lips, but she moved aside.

  “Nope, I won’t be a temptation to you any more, Yavi, especially while you’re drugged with Tongkat.” She moved past him and stuck a hand out of her fur blanket to drag the cot back toward the fireplace.

  He wanted to scoop her up and carry her to his bed. He wanted to do that badly. But something held him back. If he resisted now, he could still wake up tomorrow morning without loathing himself.

  She lay on the cot, stuffed the pillow under her head, and pulled the white fur tightly around her body. “Good night,” she called over her shoulder.

  He didn’t respond. He stood there staring at her, paralyzed by desire as well as conscience. Then he put out the large candle beside his bed, shed his robe, and crawled into his bed, alone.

  §

  Graciella awoke with a start and looked up at the clock. It was already almost six, and she was late for making the bread. She sat up on the cot and glanced across the room. Yavi’s muscular back was facing her, his blanket covering him up to his waist. She shoved her feet into her slippers, wrapped the filstoc fur around her, and quietly left his room.

  She passed a tall, broad-shouldered guard in the hallway, who bowed his head to her. “Morning, milady.”

  She blushed at having been caught leaving Yavi’s room. “Morning, Wolfan. It’s Wolfan, correct?”

  “Yes, milady. At your service.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder at Yavi’s door. “I—ah, was just…”

  “No explanations necessary, milady. And by the way, all the guards are very grateful for your delicious meals. We’ve never had such delicious fare here.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “Good, good. Ah, Wolfan, would you…would you be willing to accompany me to my room and stand outside my door for a few moments? Last night I saw a ghost in that room, and I’m still a little shaken up.”

  “Of course.” He placed his fist over his heart, bowing. “Shall we go?”

  She nodded and hurried through the passageways with him until they reached her door. “I’ll only need a few minutes to get dressed. Just…stay out here if you don’t mind. It won’t keep the ghost from reappearing, but at least I won’t feel like I’m facing it alone.”

  “I will be right here. Shout if you need me.”

  She offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  Inside her room, she dressed in a plain work dress, pulled on her boots, brushed her hair, and re-braided it into a single braid down the back. She didn’t take the time to pin it up because she needed to get downstairs and start some dough rising as soon as possible.

  Wolfan nodded to her when she opened the door. “All quiet in there this time? No ghosts?”

  “No, it was fine. Thank you for standing guard.” She stepped into the hallway and closed her door. “Wolfan, have you ever seen a ghost of a young boy here in the palace? About this tall, large gray eyes, cries for his father?”

  “No, milady. But I know the palace is haunted.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Windows open themselves, furniture changes position sometimes. Mostly in this northern wing. All the guards have seen strange things during night patrols that we can’t explain. It happens rarely, but it does happen.”

  A chill ran up Graciella’s spine. “I’d like to discuss this further with you, Wolfan, but I’m late for making the bread.”

  “I’ll escort you to the kitchen, then.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to.”

  “My pleasure,” he insisted.

  As they approached the kitchen door, she turned to thank him again. “Wolfan, if you could…perhaps not mention to anyone that you saw me leaving…a certain room this morning, it would be most appreciated.”

  “I saw no such thing.” He smiled. “Your secret is safe with me, milady.”

  “Again, I thank you.”

  He inclined his head to her before returning to his rounds.

  Graciella pushed open the door to find Wilten mixing flour in a large bowl.

  Wilten curtsied. “Good morning, milady. I start bread for you.”

  “Good, Wilten.” Graciella inspected the girl’s work. “I apologize for my lateness.”

  The girl grinned. “You have late night with Emperor?”

  Graciella blushed. “Yes, but not the type of night I was hoping for.”

  “Oh? Plant not work?”

  “It’s a long story. Let’s get two more batches of bread started first, and then I’ll tell you what happened.”

  §

  Yavi rolled over and stared at her empty cot. She’d left her pillow but taken the fur. He found himself wishing the presence of the pillow meant she intended to return a second night, or maybe for an afternoon nap. He smiled at the ceiling, realizing he must really be in love to feel such warm pleasure at the thought of her taking a nap in his room, even without his being here to watch or interfere.

  He shoved the covers back and went to the washstand to change the water and splash some over his face. Something was definitely different in him this morning. Clearing the air with her, hearing her confessions as well as sharing his own, had left him feeling lighter, freer.

  He patted his face dry on a clean towel. No doubt she was already down in the kitchen slaving over breakfast. He glanced at his father’s sword, which stood on its rack in silent sentry. It was the only thing Yavi possessed that was of any real material value. What if he sold it to Villeleian merchants and used the money to hire a new chef, so that Graciella wouldn’t have to work in the kitchen anymore?

  Sell Father’s sword? What kind of son are you?

  “The kind that loves Miss Graciella Stovy,” he told the voice in his head, g
rinning.

  Eleven

  Graciella was an hour late serving breakfast, but hoped her freshly baked sourdough would make it well worth the wait. She sat with Yavi at the table, buttering a steaming slice from a loaf that had just come out of the oven. “Do you suppose we might see Jiandra and Yajna by dinner tonight?”

  “I would assume so. Perhaps they will at least send a courier today with news of their trip.”

  He looked handsomer than ever this morning, his face more relaxed than usual, a faint smile playing around his lips. But she had promised to stop chasing him last night, and she intended to follow through on that promise, so she ignored the view of his neck and upper chest visible through the open collar of his white shirt.

  “We will need to change your sleeping arrangements today, Graciella. That is, if you still do not wish to stay in your room alone overnight.” He ate a forkful of scrambled eggs, following it with a bite of the fresh sourdough. “What kind of bread is this? It’s delicious.”

  “Sourdough. You have to ferment the flour in water for a few days before you can make it. That’s how it gets the ‘sour’ flavor.”

  “We do not have this in Nandala.” He buttered another bite. “Here, our traditional bread is flatbread.”

  “Flatbread is easy to make. I can bake you some if you’re missing it.”

  He grinned as he took another bite of the sourdough. “Not really missing it at the moment. But about your sleeping arrangements…?”

  “Yes, about those.”

  “I can have your furniture moved to a different bedroom, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or what. Yes, what arrangements do you think would make you feel more secure at night?”

  “Well, I don’t want to sleep alone in the room I’m in. Honestly, I don’t want to sleep alone in any room tonight. I asked Wolfan this morning if he’d ever seen any ghosts, and he said no, but he knew the castle was haunted because he and other guards have seen windows blow open and furniture change position.”

  Yavi frowned. “Why haven’t they reported this to me?”

  “I think he felt it was no great matter. He said it happens rarely, and it seems the guards expect it.”

  “I’ll speak to him after breakfast. This is unacceptable.”

  “Please don’t castigate Wolfan. He’s my favorite guard.”

  Yavi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he is, is he?”

  “Yes. He was so sweet to wait patiently outside my room while I dressed this morning.”

  Yavi stared down at his plate, and she noticed a muscle ticking in his jaw.

  “Anyhow, I am not sure what a suitable solution would be. I don’t want to ask Jiandra to share a room with me and leave her husband’s bed. If I were her, I wouldn’t want to make that sacrifice for my pesky little sister.” She ate a bite of eggs. “Besides, I don’t think Jiandra’s presence would make me feel that safe. I’d feel safer with a man.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I can understand that. So the offer still stands if you would like to sleep in my room again tonight.”

  Graciella shook her head. “No, I think that is a bad idea.”

  “It is?”

  “I promised to help you keep your oath, and if I stay in your room, I might be tempted to break that promise.”

  He averted his gaze. “Right.”

  “So I was thinking, do you think a guard—Wolfan, for example—would be willing to stand watch in my room while I sleep?”

  Yavi choked on his tea. “In your room? You want me to ask a guard to watch you sleep?”

  “Well, not to stare at me while I sleep, but simply be in the room.”

  “What, staring at the ceiling?”

  “I don’t really care what he stares at as long as he doesn’t leave until morning.”

  Yavi pressed his lips together.

  “Also, I’d like to move to your side of the palace, if you don’t mind. Wolfan said most of the strange activity happens in Yajna’s wing.”

  “Of course I don’t mind you moving to my wing, but I don’t think having a male guard in your room all night is prudent.”

  “He would be on official business, and of course I wouldn’t have him watch me bathe or dress for bed.”

  His hand curled into a fist on the table beside his plate. “You would rather have some stranger in your room all night than share a room with me?” His expression softened as a thought seemed to dawn on him. “Oh, I see. It’s because you don’t wish to sleep on a cot, isn’t it? You can have the bed; I’ll take the cot.”

  “Yavi,” she sighed, “do you really think me sleeping in your bed while you lie on a cot nearby is the best way for us to avoid you breaking your oath?”

  He fell silent.

  “Wolfan isn’t a stranger—he’s a very nice young man. I trust him,” she said.

  That muscle in his jaw twitched again.

  “He would be standing guard duty, nothing more,” she added.

  He rubbed a hand over his face, then took in a deep breath. “All right, Graciella. If that is your wish, I suppose that is what we will do.”

  Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Yavi.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He picked up his fork and stabbed into his pile of eggs.

  §

  While servants were moving her furniture to a bedroom down the hall from Yavi’s quarters, Graciella took the sword he’d given her the day before and went to meet him in the armory for a second lesson. She didn’t bother to change out of her work dress or pin her braid up since she was no longer trying to impress him.

  He was already there when she arrived, examining the swords in the rack. He bowed to her as she approached. “Hello again, Graciella.”

  “Hello, Master Yavi.” She smiled. “I am ready for my lesson.”

  “Good.” He led her to the center of the room. “Let’s practice what you learned yesterday.”

  She worked with him on her thrust and the catch-and-parry technique he’d taught her yesterday.

  “I’d like to learn to use two swords, like you do,” she told him when they paused for a break.

  “Oh?” He grinned. “Well, two swords are twice the fun.”

  “Is it hard to control two swords at once?”

  “For some. It depends on how ambidextrous you are.”

  “Oh, I’m very good with my left hand.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, from using my hands so much in the kitchen. I knead more with my left hand than my right, in fact.”

  “Let me see how strong your left hand is. Grip my arm.” He peeled his leather sleeve back a bit.

  She squeezed his forearm with all her might.

  He chuckled. “All right, now with your right.”

  She did the same with her right hand.

  “I’d say you’re right—your strength is pretty balanced. Here, let me find another sword.” He strode over to the rack and chose one. “This one should be about the same weight as your other one.”

  She took it with her left hand, gave it a few swings. “Okay.”

  He chose a second sword for himself as well, then returned to the center of the room. “Now, I normally like to use scimitars, but they are heavier than a regular sword, so we will start out with these shortswords.” He twirled the swords on each side of his body and then stopped them by the hilts. “Let’s practice a cross-slicing attack.”

  Graciella nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

  “Observe.” He crossed his swords over his head, lunged forward to thrust, then sliced with the blades out to the sides.

  She loved watching him practice with swords. He was truly art in motion. Fierce, powerful art. Art that made her a little weak in the knees.

  “So your starting position is this.” He raised the swords and crossed them over his head.

  She imitated the stance, raising her swords and crossing them.

  He laid his swords on the stone floor and came over to correct her posture with a hand at the sma
ll of her back. “Straighten your spine and pull your shoulders back. Bend your knees.” He checked her arms, pulling her elbows back until they were in line with her shoulders. “Okay. That looks good. Hold that position a moment.”

  She did, waiting until he picked up his swords and demonstrated the rest of the move.

  “Keep your wrists flexible when you work with two swords,” he advised. “You don’t want to jerk the blades too stiffly, because you want them to work in perfect sync. It’s difficult for an opponent to defend against two swords if your technique is good.”

  She followed his lead, practicing the thrust and cross-slice over and over as he coached her. Her hair started coming loose from the braid down her back, and she used her forearm to brush it back from her damp forehead.

  “Show me one more. Give it all you’ve got.”

  She performed the cross-slice with as much gusto and precision as she could manage in a dress and with hair hanging in her face.

  “Excellent job, Graciella.” He smiled. “Would you like to learn to add a spin?”

  “Yes!”

  Liel appeared in the doorway. “Sire, a courier has arrived with news of your brother.”

  “Send him in at once.”

  Liel bowed and left.

  “Finally, some news about our siblings,” Graciella said. “I hope they are well.”

  “I’m certain they are fine. Jiandra’s stone keeps her perfectly safe, she can heal any disease or injury they might incur, and Yajna’s one tough brute besides.” He chuckled. “I should know; I’ve been wrestling with him since we were toddlers.”

  She grinned. “Which of you won the wrestling matches?”

  “Me, of course. Every so often I’d let him win, just to keep his morale up.”

  Liel appeared with the courier following. Both men bowed to Yavi.

  “Report,” Yavi said to the courier.

  “Mahaj, Emperor Yajna sends word of their departure from Atulya this morning. He and the queen should be here before dark tonight.”

  “Any news about the fever in Nirren?”

  “Yes. The queen has cured every villager and animal that was infected. She stayed late in the village last evening to make sure there were no stragglers or re-infections.”