LustingtheEnemy

by Mel Teshco

Judas didn’t budge. “You will apologize to Akeisha for your insolence.” A muscle jerked in one taut cheek. “Now,” Judas added with quiet, deadly intent.

  Vasilous nodded jerkily, his head looking for all the world as if it were pulled by a dozen strings. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He turned to Akeisha, bowing his head to conceal scornful eyes, his be-ringed fingers once again touching his brow “Forgive me, for my disrespect.”

  She frowned. She’d seen behind his mask. His words were cheap, meaningless. In her world, larakytes would expect men like Vasilous to atone in a way befitting their sins. Why should things be different here? Her mind whirred. “That diamond you spoke of,” when he nodded, she continued, “what’s its value?”

  His eyes narrowed, uncertain of where the conversation was heading and clearly not liking it. “At least two thousand mecs.”

  She looked up at Judas’ tight face. That sort of money would be enough to feed a few thousand people for a year—and Judas had been willing to spend that on her? The very idea was…incredible. Astounding.

  How much did he really care about her? Was her worth measured beyond diamonds and mecs?

  She turned her attention back to the vendor. Her chin tilted. “If it pleases the king I would like to purchase it.”

  Vasilous’ breath hissed out in eager anticipation.

  “But only if half of those mecs are used to support the children working in the mines.”

  Vasilous’ eyes bugged from his head. “That’s ridiculous,” he sputtered.

  The hard lines of Judas’ mouth softened. “What an exceptional idea.” He gestured to the captain of the guards to come forward. Evidently as witness when Judas informed Vasilous, “I hereby appoint you as official guardian and representative of the children at Tikal mines. You may start the first day of next week. I will assign a worker to take your place and sell your jewels.”

  Vasilous’ face was a bright, mottled red. “But—”

  “I expect you to report to me once a week on your progress. I will, of course, endeavor to oversee much of your charitable work.”

  Vasilous was tight-lipped and seething with apparent injustice when Judas left him with Raffia, who was to take care of the pendant’s transaction and delivery.

  As they walked away, Akeisha had to bite her bottom lip to stop the sudden mirth bubbling up from inside. She looked up at the king. “Thank you,” she managed.

  “No, thank you for coming up with the perfect solution. Vasilous grows bitter and disenchanted with his lot in life. It’s past time he found joy in helping others.” He shrugged. “And as he has no wife, no children of his own, this will be just the diversion he needs.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him, I assure you.”

  Oh god. Her lungs constricted. And for the first time she knew without a doubt…she was halfway to losing her heart to the human king.

  But she couldn’t dwell on it, couldn’t examine her feelings here, under Judas’ perceptive stare. She’d think on it later.

  They stopped at a stall where hundreds of glass baubles dazzled under the sun. Large and small, clear and frosted, and with every color imaginable. She plucked a jade bauble from one of the many rows, admiring its depth of tone that reminded her so much of cats’ eyes. So much of her own people.

  Judas smiled down at her. “You prefer these to the diamonds, don’t you?”

  She bit her bottom lip and returned the bauble back to its slot. Should she pretend she’d prefer the diamond pendant—sight unseen—that’d cost him a king’s ransom? Should she pretend to be just like the other women he’d undoubtedly known so as to look more human?

  “Truthfully,” he added, his smile dissolving.

  She nodded. “I think these are…nicer.”

  He let out an approving chuckle, humor restored. “Then I shall see that my own jeweler makes you something special from some of these.”

  It was her turn to smile. “You’d do that for me?”

  His eyes glinted warmth. “And more,” he murmured huskily. “Much more.”

  She was floating on a cloud when Judas escorted her around the rest of the market. He seemed enchanted by her renewed excitement, her naïve enjoyment. And although her mission weighed her down, along with a deep-rooted fear of him discovering her true identity, for the moment at least she basked in his admiration.

  At one stall she stopped and sniffed appreciatively at the freshly baked, yeasty bread. A little boy of around eight stood nearby, his clothes ratty and face grubby as he stared wide eyed at the loaves.

  Her heart sank, joy evaporating. Her people were at one with the forest and glowed with good health. But they too would experience hunger if they were forced into the Helbelzcha desert.

  She turned to Judas, the ache heavy in her chest. “May I buy one?”

  “Please.”

  She selected the biggest loaf, before bending so that she was eye level to the boy. He stepped back, shy and a little scared. She smiled encouragement and offered him the bread with an outstretched hand. “Please. Take it.”

  The boy looked up at Judas, eyes wide.

  The king smiled at him. “It’s yours, Mahaya.”

  When the boy took one step and another forward, before snatching it from her and racing off, she couldn’t help but feel sad for him even as she cheered him on. She had a feeling the little boy was a fighter. He’d do all right.

  Judas took her hand, a frown marring his smooth brow. When they retraced their steps back to the cobbled street where the carriage waited, he said, “No matter how much I’ve planned to ensure my people have money enough to live on, there’s always those who’ll drink or gamble away their earnings, despite the needs of their family.”

  “That’s so sad,” she whispered, appalled that anyone could give into such selfish pursuits above the welfare of their kin.

  “I agree.” He glanced at her. “You love children?”

  “I do. Yes.”

  “You have brothers—sisters?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m an only child.”

  “Oh?” Judas’ thumb stroked her hand, soothing. “Do your parents approve of their only child being here…with me?”

  “I imagine every parent in the land would dream of their daughter being with you.”

  He stopped and tugged her around to face him. She swallowed at the intensity of his gaze. The crowded market place, the soldiers, the noise and the aromas, all faded into obscurity as he growled, “And yet you evade my question. Why is that?”

  She locked her eyes with his, willing calm. “Actually…my father doesn’t approve,” she conceded.

  His lashes swept half-mast as he asked, “Your mother is departed?”

  Was he the only man she knew to make another question out of an answer? He was too astute by far. She’d do well to remain focused on why she was here; do well to remember not to let her guard down lest he guess who—what—she was.

  Akeisha managed a nod, though repressed emotions threatened to surface. “Yes. She died when I was young.”

  An infant.

  “I’m sorry, angel. Rest assured I’ll work hard for your father to see me as a worthy partner.”

  Partner?

  Emotions be damned. Her wobbly smile was all real as she experienced a moment of almost dizzy triumph. She cleared her throat. “I only wish I could have met your parents. Their love was acclaimed throughout the land.”

  His gaze narrowed, sharp, piercing and astute. “My father’s devotion was to his detriment.”

  “You don’t believe in love?”

  He blew out a breath. “I just don’t ever want to be held in its thrall, where nothing else matters. The king was in robust health when my mother died from heart disease. I think something happened to his heart too. All he wanted was to join her in the afterlife.”

  Shit. In matters of the heart his feelings were understandable. But it didn’t bode well for her cause. It
didn’t bode well at all. She flashed him an understanding smile. “Some people would feel blessed experiencing such a rare love in their lifetime.”

  He shook his head. “Perhaps if they weren’t royalty. My father was so busy jumping through hoops for the queen, he neglected his own people.”

  His own child too?

  “The kingdom was teetering on the edge of collapse when he finally died,” he added heavily.

  She searched his stare, all too aware of the weight of his responsibilities. She understood his burden, but it wasn’t something she could share, royal-to-royal, no matter how much she wished to lighten his load. “You must know you’ve turned it all around for the better?” she said softly. “I doubt the people have ever been so happy.”

  Aside from the apparent thorn in their sides called the larakytes.

  He nodded, but there was a determined glint in his eyes. “Not all my people are content with my reign. I have some way to go yet before they’re convinced I’m a just ruler.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. Now or never. “You’re referring to the people rumored to live in the Scantia forest?”

  He arched a brow. “Actually—yes.”

  She pretended her gut wasn’t twisted in knots as she pressed, “Have you ever been there? I mean, to the Scantia forest?”

  “Of course. I visit all the places I rule.”

  They began walking again, Judas having to shorten his long stride to keep pace with her. She withheld the million and one questions bubbling inside, striving for the most banal that wouldn’t arouse his suspicions, yet still feel out his ideals for her people. “The haunted forest doesn’t bother you?”

  “Not at all. I’m not superstitious, angel.”

  A sick churning unraveled in the pit of her belly. She swallowed. Hard. Had Judas been party to the murder of her people? Was he even now secretly plotting their downfall? Bloody hell! Wasn’t he going to be satisfied until the last of the larakytes were wiped out and his people rejoiced his name?

  One corner of his lip quirked. “Why this sudden interest in the larakyte heathens?”

  Heathens?

  She almost choked on the rage, the bitterness churning within. “Some of those…heathens are being butchered simply because of who they are.”

  He froze mid-step and she could do little but stop beside him, looking uneasily up at his stark profile, his lips pressed into a glower, a muscle throbbing at one side of his clenched jaw. “I don’t condone any such thing.”

  So he wasn’t behind it? Relief took the edge off her raw emotions, easing the tension that’d sprung up between them.

  His expression abruptly softened. “Tell me, how would you handle the situation between the humans and larakytes?”

  He was asking her? Hells bells! Where to start? She sucked in a breath. What she said next had to be counted, direct and to the point if she hoped to make an impact.

  “I believe a law should be put into place to protect the larakytes from the murder and ill will against them.” She was on a roll. “And I think humans should be tried and sentenced who break those laws.”

  “Strong words,” Judas murmured. “Many humans would see you hung for such ideals.”

  And what about you?

  “For speaking the truth and wanting justice?” she asked.

  The back of her nape prickled, alerting her to someone watching. She turned to look at the crowd, but no one appeared to be staring, nothing appeared to be amiss. She shrugged off the feeling as they approached the carriage. A soldier stepped forward and open a gilded door with the royal insignia pressed into plush velvet.

  Judas swept out a hand. “After you, angel.”

  Only after they were seated inside, his hard thigh pressed along the length of hers, did Judas continue in a casual voice, “You seem…passionate about the larakytes. Why?”

  If I told you, you’d probably have me killed.

  She shrugged, striving for nonchalant. “I just hate to see innocent people wronged.”

  “What would you say if I told you I’m working on a solution?”

  Solution? She closed her eyes, ruthlessly quashing the hope uncurling in her belly. She wouldn’t put all her faith in his hands—she couldn’t. It’d hurt way too much if she was led down a path that ended in bitter disappointment.

  Her eyelids flipped apart and she croaked, “I’d say hurry up. Your Majesty.”

  A bark of laughter revealed an amusement that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Some things can’t be hurried, angel. No matter the urgency.”

  Except the larakytes are running out of time.

  She chewed her lower lip. “So…what is your plan?”

  He blew out a breath. “Give me a day or two to implement them and you’ll be the first to know. Agreed?”

  She nodded. Best to bide her time and see what he planned—if only the very thought didn’t make her so nervous! The longer she stayed with him, the more her feelings grew and the harder it would be to walk away in the end.

  And the greater his chance of discovering who she really was.

  But even if the best she’d done was speed up his plans to save her people, she’d walk away from him knowing her love for him hadn’t been in vain.

  Love for him?

  She looked out the carriage window with a frown. She’d thought she might be half in love with him already, but she wasn’t going to allow it to go any further than that. She’d leave Judas, heart intact.

  Or die trying.

  Only then did she realized the claustrophobia of before hadn’t even registered. The markets and wooden houses had long since given way to stone buildings and sandy, wide roads.

  She peered ahead, where the huge stone walls surrounding the palace and the Zaneean outbuildings, loomed large. Huge gates swung open at their approach, and she turned to Judas and asked, “Where are we going?”

  He smiled, but there was an odd note in his voice when he explained, “I’m taking you somewhere few people know exists.”

  The carriage jostled over the potholes and ruts of the sandy road leading away from the security of the palace. Four guards rode behind and four in front; even so she couldn’t help but wonder if Judas wasn’t too exposed outside the walls. “What about your safety?”

  “Don’t worry about me, angel,” he said wryly, “although I bring soldiers along with me as a precautionary measure, I can take care of myself.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Are you saying I can’t?”

  He chuckled. “I’d never be so uncouth.” He shrugged. “Besides, I have a feeling you can more than take care of yourself too.”

  You don’t know the half of it.

  A little over an hour later Judas commanded the soldiers on horseback to return to the palace. Though she could tell by their faces they were reluctant to leave, they had no choice but to obey their king. As they rode away, the driver of the carriage clucked his tongue and the grays continued ahead.

  When the carriage veered off the road a few minutes later, Akeisha jerked her attention outside. It looked as though they were traversing unmarked territory, but in this inhospitable land, trails were often covered up in a sandstorm. Even the best trackers would have trouble navigating their way through the Helbelzcha desert.

  The sun blazed high in a bright blue sky, heat rays bouncing off the sand and into the carriage. She swiped at her brow, longing for the cool sanctuary of Judas’ palace.

  She’d grown used to the Scantia forest’s relative coolness and had yet to accustom to the desert heat that Judas seemed to relish.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, evidently reading her discomfort.

  “I’d forgotten how hot it is out here.”

  She should remember. The journey to the palace in a cramped carriage with too many other women had been hell. The only thing that’d kept her going as the others had moaned with discomfort and distress was the knowledge she would save her people.

  Or die trying.

  It wa
s almost amusing using those three words again, this time in relation to her people, the first in relation to her heart. She shivered, despite the heat. Perhaps the latter would need to be sacrificed for the former?

  “Then you’ll like the destination,” Judas said, brushing back a sliver of her hair that’d dared to escape Fontaine’s amazing handiwork.

  When the carriage tilted forward and they rolled down a sharp incline, he instructed, “Close your eyes.”

  She squeezed them shut, chewing her bottom lip and experiencing a giddy excitement, much like a little girl did anticipating a longed-for present.

  When the carriage lurched to a stop, she kept her eyes closed even when Judas helped her to her feet then led her down the carriage step and onto the ground outside. As the horses whickered and the carriage lurched away, he said huskily, “Open.”

  Her eyelids fluttered apart. She looked around, awed. “How do your people not know of this place?” she breathed.

  “Some do.”

  A small lake evidently fed by an underwater spring, glistened a sparkling blue under the relentless sun. Palm trees reared high into the sky, ferns and grasses a green carpet underfoot. And right near the waters’ edge, a picnic basket was perched on large, flat cushions.

  Caution waylaid enthusiasm when she asked, “You sent someone earlier to set up a picnic?”

  He watched her with a soft smile that was completely at odds with his hard demeanor. “I did.”

  Something almost gleeful tore through all sense of restraint as she danced to the cushions and sank down. “I love it.”

  A large, long-legged bird honked annoyance as it cocked its head at them from the other side of the lake. Feathers ruffling with annoyance, it continued digging with its beak at whatever was edible beneath the sand.

  Judas joined her on the cushions and she forgot to breathe, to think as his stare caught and held hers. Damn. What was he doing to her? She felt things for him she’d never imagined possible in such a short time. She had too many people relying on her, too many secrets to guard. Yet he’d broken down her defenses as easily as a strong wind tearing up the dunes.

  Judas broke eye contact first, as though even he was unsure of the intense attraction between them. “Hungry?” he asked.