by Anne Bishop
He kept Marian locked to the chair while two men brought a wailing Roxie into the tavern and settled her at the other empty table. Whatever had gotten Marian so riled up was still churning through her, so when he finally stepped back, he made sure she'd have to go through him in order to tangle with Roxie again.
"Now," he snarled as he looked at the people crowded into the tavern's main room, "what in the name of Hell is going on?"
"She attacked me!" Roxie wailed. "Just because I told her she wasn't going to work for us after I moved into the eyrie."
"Since you're never going to move into the eyrie while I'm still living there, that's not a problem," Lucivar snapped. He looked at Marian and shook his head. "Is that what this is about? Didn't it occur to you she was lying?"
"Of course I knew she was lying," Marian snapped back. "But she _ said…"
"I am going to live with you!" Roxie shouted as she continued to sob. "You want me. You know you do. When I was in your bed—"
"I told you I'd slit your throat if I ever found you there again," Lucivar said.
A collective gasp. Then the room fell silent.
"You didn't mean it," Roxie sobbed. "You were bluffing to—"
"I don't bluff."
Roxie stared at him.
Disgusted, Lucivar turned back to Marian. "Was that the whole of it? What else did she say?"
He saw Marian's eyes shift from side to side, taking in all the people waiting for her answer. He watched her temper fade and her usual quiet nature surface.
"Nothing," she said.
There was more. He could tell by the way she wouldn't meet his eyes that there was more. Well, he'd get it out of her after he got her back to the eyrie and checked her over to make sure the minor cuts and bruises he could see were the worst of her injuries.
"What else did she say?" asked a midnight voice from the doorway.
Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. The last thing he needed right now was Jaenelle stepping into this.
Marian looked at the Black Jewel hanging from the chain around Jaenelle's neck, then looked into those sapphire eyes—and swallowed hard.
"She said she was going to tell people Lucivar tried to force himself on her so that he would have to serve her," Marian said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"He's an Ebon-gray Warlord Prince," Jaenelle said. "How would she control him?"
Marian licked her bloody lower lip. "With a Ring of Obedience."
Lucivar swore quietly, viciously, the memory of the pain that a Ring of Obedience could inflict shuddering through him.
"She's a lying bitch!" Roxie shouted.
"Is she?" Jaenelle asked, her eyes never leaving Marian's face. "There's a simple way to tell. Are you willing to open your mind to me, Marian? Will you let me read your thoughts, your feelings, your heart? Will you open yourself to me, knowing that if what you said here is a lie, I will take you down into the abyss so deep it will shatter you, destroy you? Are you willing?"
Jaenelle, don't do this, Lucivar thought.
Marian sat up straight. "Yes," she said. "I'll open my mind to you."
Everyone in the tavern waited, hardly daring to breathe.
"And you, Roxie?" Jaenelle asked, turning toward the other witch. "Will you open your mind to me, knowing a lie will destroy you?"
Wailing, Roxie shook her head.
Lucivar suppressed a shudder when Jaenelle's eyes pierced him. Her rage was a living thing, and it would take so little right now to set it free—with devastating results.
*I will deal with this, Lady,* he said.
*And you will report to me after you've dealt with it,* Jaenelle replied. *If Roxie's taste for manipulating and controlling males has reached this point, it's not just your life that's at risk, Prince Yaslana.*
*I'm aware of that, Lady. I'll deal with it.*
Jaenelle nodded. Then her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Marian. *She has no injuries that require more healing skill than you possess, but I can do the healing if you prefer.*
*My thanks, Lady, but I'll take care of her.* He sent a touch of arrogance through the psychic thread. *Besides, she owes me for trying to kick my balls into my throat.*
*I see. Then you must be pleased that she learned the lessons you insisted on teaching her.*
*She still punches like a girl.* He rubbed his sore jaw. *For the most part.*
He felt a hint of amusement from her, which was exactly what he'd hoped for. Her rage had turned aside, but it wouldn't take much to bring it back with lethal results. As much as he loved her, he breathed a sigh of relief when she walked out of The Tavern and caught the Winds to go back to the Keep.
Which left him with his muddy, bruised hearth witch and the sobbing bitch.
"You two," he said, pointing to the two Warlords who had assisted Roxie into the tavern. "Escort Lady Roxie home and inform her father that I'll see him tomorrow."
"I want her punished!" Roxie wailed as the two men hauled her to her feet. "She attacked me! I want her punished!"
And I want you dead, Lucivar thought. But we can't always have what we want.
He waited until Roxie was gone before turning to Marian. "As for you…"
She shrank back in the chair, her courage gone.
Shaking his head, he hauled her out of the chair. "Come on, witchling. Let's get you home while you can still move. You're not going to believe how sore you'll be by tomorrow."
"Don't you worry about setting a meal on the table, Marian," Merry called. "I'll pack a basket and bring up a few dishes in a little while."
"Basket," Marian gasped. "My carry basket. All my shopping."
Taking the easy way out of this discussion, Lucivar dumped her over his shoulder, walked out of The Tavern, and caught a Wind that would take them home.
"I'm sorry," Marian said, trying not to wince as Lucivar ripped her clothes off. They were past repairing anyway, and since she was the reason he was limping and had a rather impressive bruise blooming on his jaw, she figured she shouldn't argue with him about the clothes.
"You're not half as sorry as you're going to be," Lucivar growled as he knelt to strip off her boots. He led her to the steps at one corner of the heated pool…steps he'd never mentioned the first time he dumped her in there…and kept one hand on her arm to steady her as she descended. Then he stripped off his own clothes and joined her.
"All right," he said. "Let's have a look at you." He called in a washcloth, dipped it in the water, and washed the mud off her face.
Gentle, thorough, grim. She watched his face as he tended each bruise, saw the flash of temper in his eyes when he came to a cut. Then he growled as he carefully checked her hands.
"Didn't remember to put a shield around your hands before you threw the first punch, did you?" He probed her knuckles and fingers."Of course, if you'd thought to put a shield around yourself in the first place, she couldn't have landed a blow at all."
She raised her chin. "You didn't shield, either, when you waded into the fight."
His eyes met hers. "I wasn't expecting my lover to try to kick my balls down the street."
My lover. The words warmed her more than anything else could. He'd never said he loved her, and she hadn't wanted to spoil the easy way they were now living together by telling him she loved him. But she thought it, felt it, more with each day…and hoped that someday he would feel the same.
Then what she'd done finally sank in. She closed her eyes and hunched her shoulders.
"Marian?" Lucivar's voice was sharp, alarmed.
"I'm sorry."
"About what?"
"I caused a public scene. I'm sorry I embarrassed you by doing that."
His finger rapped her chin hard enough to startle her into opening her eyes. How could he look grim and amused at the same time?
"Sweetheart," he said, "it's going to take more than a public brawl to embarrass me. Especially since I've initiated my fair share of public scenes."
"I've never done anything like that before."
"Why did you this time?"
Anger spurted through her as she remembered the look on Roxie's face, the things the woman said. "She wanted to hurt you. She wanted to take away everything that matters to you. I couldn't let her do that."
She couldn't read the look in his eyes. Soft. Hot. Something more, but she wasn't sure what it was.
"Do I mean that much to you?" he asked quietly.
I love you. "Yes, you mean that much to me."
He smiled, then brushed his lips over hers. "Do I mean enough to you that you're going to let me fuss over you without snarling at me today?"
"I—" She frowned and studied his lazy, arrogant smile. "Do I have a choice?"
"No." He kissed the bruise on her cheek. "But you can snarl at me. I like the sound of it."
His mouth drifted to her neck, and his soft snarl as his teeth scraped over her skin made her float on a wave of desire.
"Lucivar," she whispered, wrapping arms that felt liquid and heavy around his neck. "Lucivar." She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open anymore.
She felt him shift her, felt him sheath himself inside her. Hard. Hot. Something more.
"That's it, sweetheart," Lucivar whispered as he moved inside her. "That's it. Take all of me. I want to give you all of me."
I want… Nothing to do but ride the last crest that left her floating.
She was vaguely aware of being lifted out of the pool, of being dried off and tucked into bed, but she couldn't rouse herself enough to shake the warm contentment that was pulling her down to a quiet, deep place.
"You put a sleep spell on me, didn't you?" she grumbled.
"You'll thank me for it later," Lucivar replied, kissing her temple.
I love you.
"That's good to hear, witchling, because I love you, too."
She was dreaming. Of course she was dreaming. But she smiled and let the dream take her.
Lucivar made a pot of coffee, then rummaged through the cold box for something to eat. Ah. There was the rest of the country casserole Marian had made for dinner last night. After putting the dish in the oven to heat, he started to look around for something to go with it, but the garden caught his attention, drawing him to the kitchen window.
Still plenty of snow out there, but where the sun had melted the snow and warmed the earth, he could see the green shoots. She'd been so delighted when she'd seen that her spring bulbs had survived the winter.
Jaenelle had reacted the same way.
Was that why Marian pulled at him the way no other woman did? She and Jaenelle were so different in some ways and so similar in others. Hearth witch and Queen, but the same qualities that made them both exceptional women, each in her own way.
And she loved him.
Lucivar smiled.
Did Marian realize she'd said it out loud? Had she heard his reply?
He called in the jeweler's box, opened it, and studied the two rings inside. When he'd bought Marian the amber necklace for Winsol, he'd also had Banard make these rings. Amber and jade set in a gold band for Marian. A plain gold band for him.
Marriage rings. He wanted to slide that ring on her finger, wanted to wear that gold band that was a symbol of commitment, partnership… and love.
They'd been together almost a full turn of the seasons. She'd seen the worst of him…no, not the worst; she'd never seen him walk off a killing field, but she'd gone through a rut with him…and, hopefully, he'd also shown her the best, had shown her she could grow in a marriage with him, that she could be everything she wanted to be.
Maybe it was time to ask her to share her life with him, not just as a lover but as a wife. He wanted, fiercely, to be her husband.
He closed the box and vanished it. Soon. Very soon.
First, he had to decide what to do about Roxie.
TWENTY
Lucivar took a deep breath before knocking on the front door of Roxie's house. The street was too quiet for midday, even in the aristo part of Doun. He could almost feel all the eyes peering at him from behind sheer curtains. They would have heard some version of what happened yesterday, so they knew why he was here. To pass judgment. To draw a line between what would be accepted in Ebon Rih and what would not.
Jaenelle had been right about that. It was more than his own life at stake in this decision. He'd let his dislike of Roxie color his sense of justice, had avoided her because she reminded him too much of the bitches who'd used him in Terreille…and hadn't gone after her for using other men as he'd done when he was a slave because, he'd told himself, those men had had a choice about being with her. He wasn't sure of that anymore, but the Queens in both Doun and Riada had informed him with wary formality that no complaints had been lodged, no man had come forward to say Roxie had mistreated him. Didn't mean much, although the Queens here could be naive enough to believe it did. As long as an aristo witch didn't play with an aristo male whose family would protest if his reputation was damaged, the Queens would never know about the others…youths, now ashamed that lust had overruled common sense, who were considered "sluts." Good enough when a woman wanted a warm body in bed, but too "experienced" to be considered for a public, long-term relationship…or a marriage.
He didn't like Roxie, which is why he'd given himself a full day to think hard about what was just…and, thank the Darkness, his Queen had approved of his decision.
That didn't mean the aristo families in Doun were going to find it easy to swallow. But everything had a price. Males who warmed too many beds sometimes paid dearly. Roxie would be the lesson…and the warning…that witches who used men would pay a price as well. He'd been too passive in dealing with Roxie. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
A servant escorted him into the formal parlor where Roxie's father waited. The man rocked on his heels, all ruffled indignation and puffed-up anger. But there was fear in his eyes.
"Warlord," Lucivar said.
"Prince." Roxie's father bobbed his head sharply. "I hope you've dismissed that servant. Dreadful woman, accosting an innocent girl on a public street and then spreading lies about her."
"If you're referring to Lady Marian…"
"Marian. Yes, that's the name! Your…"
"Lover."
Roxie's father paled. "What?"
"Marian is my lover," Lucivar said softly.
"But… But you promised Roxie…"
Lucivar snarled. "The only thing I ever promised Roxie was that I'd kill her if I found her in my bed again."
The man staggered toward a chair and sank into it.
He loves the little bitch, Lucivar thought as pity stirred in him. But pity couldn't alter what he'd come here to do. In truth, he was showing Roxie more mercy than she probably deserved. "Everything has a price. The price of rape is execution. Falsely accusing a man of rape also has a price…the witch's Jewels… or her life."
"But she didn't accuse you of anything! You only have that woman's…that Lady's word on it."
"She didn't have a chance to accuse me," Lucivar countered. He took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and shook his head. Better just to say it and be done. "Because she didn't have a chance to play out her game, I can be… flexible… about the penalty. I can't justify taking her life, but I won't have her putting men's lives at risk in the land where I rule. Therefore, Roxie is exiled from Ebon Rih. You have three days to get her settled beyond the borders of this valley. If she's not gone by then, I'll come hunting. And if she ever returns to Ebon Rih, I'll kill her."
"You can't!" Roxie's father wailed.
"I'm the law here," Lucivar said. "This is as much mercy as I can offer a woman like her. You can accept it and get her out of Ebon Rih"…he called in his war blade…"or I can kill her now. I imagine there will be a fair number of young men who will sleep easier tonight if I do."
Roxie's father clutched his chest. Tears filled his eyes. "Where is she supposed to go?"
"I don't give a damn." He vanished
the war blade. "Just get her out of Ebon Rih, or her life is forfeit."
The man burst out crying.
Since there was nothing more to say, Lucivar walked out of the house and down the street. It was tempting to fly away, to let speed and height put distance between him and that house. But he walked down the street so the people in the other houses would see him, would know. He was the law in Ebon Rih, and nothing except his Queen's command could change that.
"Prince?"
Lucivar stopped, turned toward the voice. A young man lingered in a carriageway between two of the houses. Decently dressed, but not from an aristo family. Probably a merchant's son. "What can I do for you?"
"There was some talk…" He glanced down the street. "I mean… Roxie…"
"Has been exiled from Ebon Rih."
The youngster closed his eyes. "Thank you."
Lucivar choked back his temper. So. Here was one of Roxie's victims. "She won't bother you anymore."
"But what about the others?" the young man asked, pleading.
"What others?" Lucivar snapped.
"We… Roxie and me… we only did it twice. Then she lost interest in me, said I wasn't a good enough tumble for her to keep seeing me. But her friends started coming around to my father's shop, and they wanted… expected…"Bitterness filled his eyes."They said they'd heard I was an easy romp, and I should accommodate them the way I'd done for Roxie. But I'd cared for her, and I thought she cared…" His voice trailed off.
"Is your family standing by you?"
"Yes, sir. My father says caring enough to be intimate with a girl isn't a mistake. My mistake was in caring for the wrong kind of girl. And Mother says all young men have a trip and stumble somewhere along the way, that I'll be a better man for it."
"But that doesn't keep the other bitches from expecting you to drop your pants," Lucivar said.
The young man hung his head. "No, sir."
He almost told the youngster there was nothing he could do for him. Then he thought about Saetan's rules for anyone staying at the Hall."This is an order, puppy, so pay attention." He waited until the youngster straightened up and stared at him. "Until I tell you otherwise, you may not have sex with a girl without my permission. That means both of you coming before me and telling me you want each other. I'll let you make the choice about kissing and petting above the waist. You go any further than that without coming to me first, I will beat the shit out of you. And I'll beat the shit out of her, just so it's clear that the penalty to her will be equally harsh if she pushes after you decline. You understand me?"
