by Alix Nichols
For a few moments, they worked in companionable silence.
Etana focused on the braids on the left side of her head, and Areg on the right. Something warm and infinitely tender grew in her heart. Here she was, a menial girl, in the arms of a hero, the man she admired more than anyone in the world. Her toes curled with pleasure.
She grew positively ecstatic when, having finished one braid, he combed his long fingers through the freed strands. She reveled in his care as his fingertips massaged her scalp, the sides of her face, and the back of her neck.
“Do you always wear your hair so tightly braided?” he asked.
“It’s convenient.” She leaned her head back into his large hand. “Keeps it out of my face much more efficiently than the bonnet. Besides this kind of braiding is in style now.”
“Nyssa—that’s my sister—is just a few years older than you, but she never wears her hair braided.”
It was both endearing and profoundly sad how he used the present tense to speak about his deceased sister…
“I should’ve been more specific,” Etana said, pasting a bright smile on her face. “It’s in style among maids.”
He beamed back, and she gasped at the hard-edged, masculine beauty of his smile. Almost of its own volition, her hand went to his cheek.
“From the war?” she asked, touching an old scar.
“Yes.”
Etana stroked it, and his new stubble prickled her fingertips. “They let you shave in here.”
If they hadn’t, she realized, he’d be sporting a huge mountain-man beard, seeing how thick the hair on his head was.
“I’ve been shaved twice since my arrest.”
He brushed his knuckles over the side of her face, neck, and the ridge of muscle sloping down to her shoulder. “The first time was for the public flogging and the second, for my confession this morning.”
“Your back…” She winced, remembering the bloody mess it had been reduced to only a week ago. “Are you hurting?”
“No. Reverent Goyyem’s bandages worked wonders.” He smoothed the crease between her brows with his thumb. “Another week, and I’ll be able to sleep on my back again.”
A few minutes later, Etana’s hair was unbraided. She tilted her head back and ran her fingers through her hair.
Ooh. It was a relief not to have all those plaits straining her scalp anymore.
Reaching behind her back, Areg gathered the ends of her mane and brought it to his nose. When he inhaled, Etana felt giddy at the expression of bliss on his face.
Kiss me again.
His earlier kiss had taken her breath away. It had done… things to her. Shocking and exhilarating things. The sensation of his lips capturing hers, of his tongue thrusting between her lips, exploring the inside of her mouth… Divine Aheya, it had been like nothing she’d experienced before. Too invasive, too wet, too much—and not enough. All at the same time.
No man had ever kissed her on the mouth before or touched her with so much intimacy. No man had ever touched her with any kind of intimacy before.
As if hearing her silent plea, he slanted his head, and his mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding.
She shut her eyes and opened her lips immediately, hungry for another invasion of his tongue, for more of him. This way of kissing still felt strange and wet and shocking, but it was also uniquely arousing. Heat pooled between her legs, and her stomach grew heavy, achy with need. Desire. Etana had read and heard about it from Gullie, but she’d never experienced it herself.
Suddenly, kissing was not enough.
She needed him to hold her. She wanted his hands all over her. And, more than anything, she burned to touch him. Pulling her mouth away, she drew in a ragged breath and opened her eyes. Even as he leaned back, Areg’s darkened gaze stayed on her lips and his breathing sounded just as rattled as hers.
He had to be waiting for Superior Fo to come and go before he’d touch her with the same possessive hunger he’d put into his kisses. It was the sensible thing to do. She knew it, because she was herself a sensible person, someone who took pride in being level-headed and pragmatic.
Oh, to hell with that!
She caressed his strong neck before moving her hands to his shoulders. Slipping her fingers beneath the opening of his nightshirt, she maintained skin-to-skin contact for as far as the fabric would stretch. Which was not far.
Urgh! A frustrated little puff escaping her lips, Etana let go of Areg’s shoulders and pushed the wide sleeves of his nightshirt up. He watched her as she slid her hands inside and wrapped them over the bulging muscles on his upper arms.
Much better.
His gaze shifted down, and he placed a big, warm hand on her thigh below the hem of her nightshirt next to the bottom hem of her knickers.
She trembled with the thrill of anticipation.
Suddenly, steps erupted from the other side of the door, followed by keys turning in the lock.
Areg released her leg, and she scooted to the wall next to him.
Was it midnight already?
That was not what her inner clock told her. Etana frowned, displeased by how she’d lost track of time. It had never, ever happened to her before. Then again, tonight was a night of firsts.
The door swung open.
Except it wasn’t the abbess who walked in. It was Ultek, accompanied by three of his stone-faced men.
“Get up!” the police chief barked at Etana and Areg.
“Rutting time’s over,” one of his men said with a sneer.
He had a red band around his left arm.
Two others marched toward the pallet, and one of them gripped Etana’s arm. “Etana Tidryn, you’re coming with us.”
What? Why?
What about the patience knickers and the rest of the wedding night?
It was too soon, too brutal, too… final.
She pushed against him. “You can’t do this!”
“Oh, but he can.” Ultek stepped in front of her. “And he will.”
A second guard reached for Etana and tugged. She planted her feet into the floor and leaned against Areg. She had no chance on her own, but if Areg wrapped those strong arms around her…
She craned her neck and glanced at him.
“You should go,” he said, his eyes dull.
Her new husband had no intention of resisting their unlawful and untimely separation.
The guard tightened his grip on Etana’s arm and yanked harder. It hurt.
“Get off me!” She punched his face.
He let go of her arm and touched his cheek. “Slut.” Glaring at her, he swung his arm and slapped her so hard she flew facedown to the ground.
Etana’s head rang with pain, even as her chest constricted in rage.
When the guard bent down to haul her up, she saw Areg in her peripheral vision, charging toward them. The guard turned around and swung, but Areg trapped his fist in his hand and headbutted him. The man swayed before collapsing.
Etana scrambled to her feet, dazed, white spots blurring her vision.
With a growl, Areg slammed his huge fist into the second guard’s chin, sending him to the wall. The back of his head hit the hard surface with a loud thump, and the man slid down the wall next to his unmoving colleague.
The armband man launched himself at Areg.
While the two traded blows, Ultek opened the door, shouting, “I need more men—now!”
Four more guards poured into the cell. Blows and punches rained all over Areg’s body and head, the guards beating him in earnest.
When he ceased resisting, and they were able to restrain him and lean him against the wall, his face was a crimson mess. Blood dripped from his nose and the corner of his mouth. His head hung low as if there had been no more force left in him to keep it upright.
“Let me tend to my husband,” Etana begged.
“Except he isn’t your husband,” Ultek said. “You’re still wearing your lovely patience knickers. The marriage hasn’t been co
nsummated.”
Etana stared at him, her jaws clenched so hard her teeth hurt.
Ultek smiled with feigned sympathy. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but it won’t be consummated. Not in this lifetime, at any rate.”
She snarled.
Ultek ogled her, his gaze lingering on her legs and breasts. “You’re a fiery one, aren’t you? I like it. Your kind is the most fun to break.”
I’ll take rat poison before I let you.
“We’ll unlock your and Sebi’s patience knickers so you can remove them,” Ultek said. “But I’m afraid you won’t get a chance to finish what you started.”
He turned to Areg. “Can you hear me, asswipe? You won’t be fucking her sweet holes. Not tonight, not ever.”
Areg didn’t look up, didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.
“You won’t.” Ultek began to chuckle as if something hilarious had come to his mind. “But I will.”
Etana shuddered.
He turned to her. “You understand that your marriage is null and void, right?”
She said nothing.
“I’m not sure you do.” Ultek looked at the guards and tut-tutted. “Harebrained, like all women.”
He turned back to Etana. “The convict is not your husband. He’s not even your lover.”
Her hands balled into fists.
“Did he kiss you?” Ultek studied her mouth. “Your lips are swollen, so I guess he did.”
Etana dug her nails into her palms.
Ultek took a step toward her. “All right then. He qualifies as your kisser.”
The armband guard chuckled obsequiously.
Etana bottled up her rage. “Can I please go to Lord Sebi? He’s unconscious. He needs help.”
“I believe he does.” Ultek pointed to the two prone guards. “As do these jacked-up wusses he knocked out.”
Etana stared at him.
“Clearly, we feed our inmates too well here,” Ultek said. “The warden has some explaining to do.”
The armband man tee-heed.
Ultek crooked his index finger at him. “Go fetch a couple of healer vestals with their med kits.”
With a nod, the guard strode out.
Ultek trained his bloodshot eyes on Etana again. “I bet you I’m a better kisser than Sebi. Want to try?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“Oh, come on, drop your prissy act, will you?” He held up the index and middle fingers of his right hand. “Remember these?”
She glowered at him.
Ultek showed the same two digits to the guards. “These babies were between her legs just a few hours ago—and now she says I can’t kiss her?”
The guards laughed.
His disgusting grin fading, Ultek marched to Etana and whispered in her ear, “You’ll come by my office next week, when all of this is over. We’ll discuss your options.”
“Go to hell.”
“If you turn up of your own accord and show potential, then maybe you won’t disappear one day.” He winked. “Just saying.”
Etana stepped backward.
Ultek stepped forward. “Haven’t you heard stories of young menial girls snatched on the street never to be seen again? Haven’t you ever wondered what happens to them?”
“Sir Gokk won’t let you harm me.” Etana did her best to sound confident even as cold sweat broke on her forehead. “He’s influential.”
“He is, but not more than me. Besides, it’s not like you’re his daughter or his mistress, eh?”
She looked away.
“My canaries tell me Sir Gokk only fucks his wife. You’re nothing to him. Just a servant in his house.” He snorted. “A fucking laundry maid.”
She refused to look at him.
“So?” he asked, his tone impatient. “How about next Fourth-day?”
“Rot in hell.”
He drew back and eyed her up and down. “You’ll regret not taking my offer, sugar ass. You have no idea how much you’ll regret it.”
A low groan came from Areg’s direction. He shifted, then raised his head and leaned it on the wall.
Etana’s breath hitched.
He’s alive.
She tried to jerk herself free from the guards and run to him. But they were too strong, and their grip on each of her arms too tight.
Ultek made a beeline to him. “Thank Aheya, you woke up. I need you alive.”
With visible difficulty, Areg half opened his eyes and strained to focus on the man looming over him.
Ultek bent down and snapped his fingers in front of Areg’s left eye, then his right. “Listen up, asswipe. I have news for you.”
His face a bruised grimace of pain, Areg opened his swollen eyes a little more.
“Guess where I was just an hour ago,” Ultek said. “At the governor’s residence in Orogate. And I wasn’t the only one there. Some of your friends and some of your enemies were there, too.”
Areg rubbed his forehead.
“You might ask why all those good people were disturbing Lord Boggond at such a late hour,” Ultek continued. “Go on, humor me. Ask. Let’s make this a two-way conversation.”
With an effort, Areg parted his blood-smeared lips. “Why?”
“We were petitioning him.” Ultek smirked. “All of us. About you. But not for the same outcome.”
Areg wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his nightshirt.
“Eight majors and Her Royal sweetass Glory Prioress Eckme pleaded to swap your life imprisonment for life banishment,” Ultek said. “Superior Fo and Superior Dienoma herself, on behalf of the entire religious establishment, asked for a post-endorsement amnesty. I pressed for an immediate repeal of Maiden’s Privilege and your subsequent impalement.”
The ground shifted under Etana’s feet.
“Oh yes, impalement,” Ultek repeated slowly, a dreamy smile on his lips. “You know, when people are stuck through with a sharp pole and left to die in unimaginable agony. That’s how high treason was punished in Eia before the Cataclysm, according to the old canons.”
“Rubbish!” Etana yelled. “There was no such canon in Eia.”
Ultek rolled his eyes. “You an authority on canons now? Anyway, Judge Mahabmet contended that impaling a war hero—even a disgraced one—was a bad idea, and Commander Heidd said too many in the army had fought with you and witnessed your bravery during the war. A messy and protracted execution of their leader wouldn’t sit well with them.”
Something like a sneer curled the side of Areg’s mouth.
Ultek let out a resigned sigh. “They weren’t entirely wrong, I guess. Your impalement could hurt Lord Boggond’s image before the Endorsement Vote.”
“What did he decide?” Etana asked.
Ignoring her question, Ultek addressed Areg. “By the way, in case you were hoping the LOR delegation raised the question of your verdict, you’ll be pleased to know they did.”
Etana had no idea a LOR delegation was in Eia. Now it made sense why Areg was kept in Iltaqa and not in Orogate. The governor wanted him away from the ambassadors’ eyes.
“Don’t get your hopes up, though,” Ultek said, “Governor Boggond explained the gravity of your crime. I showed them the evidence.”
“What evidence?” Etana asked.
“The evidence I painstakingly gathered,” Ultek said without looking at her. “We reminded the ambassadors they’d be infringing on Eia’s sovereignty and endangering the peace process with Teteum if they pressed further. We were very convincing.”
“What is the governor going to do with Lord Sebi?” Etana voiced her first question, louder.
Slowly, Ultek pivoted toward her. “I’m getting there, sugar ass. Didn’t those patience knickers teach you any patience? For starters, the governor signed a decree repealing the idiotic Maiden’s Privilege with immediate and retroactive effect.”
“He couldn’t do that!”
Ultek was lying. It was too blatantly illegal.
“Aww. You’re adorable when
you frown like that!” Ultek pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket and opened it. “That’s what the nitpicker Mahabmet said, too. Something about the need to follow a proper legal procedure for repealing old canons.”
He held the sheet before Areg’s eyes. “But Lord Boggond went ahead with it anyway. This is a copy of the decree he signed. Read it.”
Etana stopped breathing.
“Want a quick summary?” Ultek asked her before glancing at the sheet. “The first couple of paragraphs are about the canon and its repeal… Hmm… Let’s see… Here it says immediate and retroactive.”
Etana’s knees grew so weak she would’ve fallen to the floor if it hadn’t been for the guards holding her.
Ultek lifted the decree to his face and pointed a fat finger to the bottom of the page. “Ah, here’s the best part. Ready, lovebirds?”
He glanced at Etana and then at Areg before reading out, gleeful, “Areg Sebi’s decapitation will take place as initially planned, on the third of Late-summer, Xer-year 701 of the New Ra-Human Era at eight in the morning in Iltaqa Town Hall Square.”
10
The space station’s docking bay filled Colonel Keiron Yaggar’s viewport. Radar pulses washed over his light aircraft. A sentinel hailed him. Keiron responded with the authorization codes and sat back.
A projector flashed him a welcoming blue and a pleasant voice said, “Welcome to the League of Realms Space Station, Colonel Yaggar.”
He steered his transport into the docking bay.
Alighting in haste, he greeted the technicians and a couple of LORSS staffers who touched their fingertips to their foreheads and bowed back. With thousands of people working at LORSS, plus hundreds of diplomatic missions conducted from these premises, it was hard to remember all the faces and names.
People called LORSS “the Flying City” for a reason. It was enormous. The realms that regularly complained about its cost called it oversized.
Keiron strode through a brightly lit corridor, crossed a hall, and then marched down another corridor punctuated by doors. The biggest one at the end slid open for him. He walked through it and rode one of the green elevators to the third-level deck.
Another corridor to cover, a few more staffers to brow-and-bow to, and then he was greeting Xeba Rihisabi, the superintendent’s personal assistant.
