by Shea Godfrey
It was not the first time she had felt so utterly out of place at such a function. Bentley was always there, of course, and last night Arkady had been present as well. But she would never belong among the Bloods of court so long as she could not dance with the one she truly wanted. And even if she had, they would have been the object of speculation and rumors, and the whole thing would have become an epic disaster.
She had danced with Aidan once, at a small, informal gathering. But they had been young, and Darry had yet to declare herself backwards. Others had viewed it as a lark, and they had danced as girls often do, when no boys could work up the nerve to ask. Malcolm had ended it, however, and lectured her. If she could not stop pretending to be a man, she would no longer be allowed at family functions.
She had responded that she appeared to be a better man already than he might ever be. He had grabbed her jacket and shoved her, and it had been the beginning of the end for them.
Their mother had overheard their words and witnessed the confrontation, and Malcolm had been put in his place, though Darry remembered how frightened she and Aidan had been. They had hidden themselves completely after that, whether her family would have accepted their love or not.
Darry highly doubted that dancing with the woman who might well end up the future Queen of Arravan would have been accepted much better.
They broke their fast as a family, with Royce and Jacob present, and Alisha as well. And as Darry became lost in her thoughts yet again, she could smell jasmine and knew the weight of Jessa’s nearness as never before.
They played Wei-Jinn afterward and she became caught up in the ease and comfort. She partnered with Emmalyn against their mother and Jessa, who soundly beat them in three straight matches. When Jacob announced that a match between the two unbeaten women be played, Darry stood and declared instead that Wei-Jinn was too tame for such a beautiful day and proposed a game of round ball.
Darry saw to it that the sticks for round ball were raised within the main practice yard beneath the noonday sun, and the teams made ready as the ladies took their seats upon a low rise of benches within the shade cast by the inner wall.
It was a game of speed as well as strength and Darry loved it, happy to be squaring off on a gorgeous day and hoping to find her balance within the purity of the sport.
Darry’s team of Royce and Jacob stood in the center of the yard across from Bentley, Arkady, and Kingston Sol, who had taken up the challenge. Jemin McNeely placed the skin ball on the ground between them and announced that the match would be played to three sticks.
“I intend to whip your fine ass, kitten,” Bentley said.
“You’ll have to catch it first.”
“What’s the prize?” Kingston asked.
“What’s the prize, Mother?” Darry asked.
“Another day without duty?” her mother said.
“Too tame, my Lady!” Bentley called. “We need more to inspire us. A clever man can always find a day off.”
Jessa couldn’t keep her eyes away from Darry. Her hair was tied behind her neck and her sleeves rolled up, and her body held a different sort of vitality than it normally did. She was not walking or dancing or being proper at the table; she was in her natural environment and Jessa’s blood quickened to see it. Darry was a woman meant for action, not the quiet of courtly manners.
Emmalyn stood and slowly pulled the handkerchief from her bodice, then let the delicate lace and soft silk slide from between her breasts and catch the breeze. “Perhaps this will do?”
Alisha laughed at their startled faces and stood beside Emmalyn, unfastening her brooch, which glittered in the sun. “And this.”
“Bloody hell,” Cecelia groaned. “They’ll kill each other.”
“Jessa?” Emmalyn smiled at her.
Jessa stood and unbraided a plait of her black hair with practiced ease, then smiled at Darry’s expression as she loosed a teardrop of jade and caught the delicate chain of its setting.
It was a polished gem of considerable size. Jade came from Lyoness alone, and within Arravan, its presence was as highly sought after as Blue Vale steel.
“Jessa, that’s too much,” Cecilia said. “It’s worth a fortune.”
“I may offer the prize I see fit, my Lady,” Jessa said. “’Tis only a bauble of cut jade. I have more.”
Cecelia lifted an eyebrow as she returned her attention to the yard. “Will that do?”
“Perfectly.” Darry answered, glaring at her opponents.
Jemin stepped up. “No eye-gouging and no nut-busting.” He looked at Darry. “And no tit-grabbing or hair-pulling.”
“Thank you,” Darry said, thinking only of Jessa’s jade. To have such a token that had known the touch of Jessa’s braids made her blood rise.
“Bloody hell,” Bentley groaned. “Arkady, watch her clo—”
Darry burst forward and the game was on as she kicked the ball behind her with a heel and smashed her forearm into Bentley’s chest, then spun back to her left and jabbed her elbow into Kingston’s stomach.
The game was physical and often violent, depending upon the stakes, though for a courtly game Jessa hoped it would not be too dangerous. The dust from the practice yard stirred at once, and the players yelled and laughed as the general melee commenced.
Jessa tensed when Darry was involved in a play and admired her incredible speed and agility. She had seen nothing like it before and cheered when Darry outmaneuvered an opponent, just as she flinched when she was under attack.
Darry’s team was two sticks up before long. Jacob was surprisingly accurate when kicking the ball, though he was the slowest runner Jessa have ever seen.
When in pursuit of Royce, Arkady swerved one way and then the other. But Darry caught him as he passed and took them both to the ground.
Arkady’s legs tangled with Darry’s, his weight on top of her in a rudely familiar manner. Jessa began to rise but caught herself, hesitating for a moment before she sat back down. What sort of man would dare touch a woman of the Blood so easily? Bloody fikloche.
A crowd was gathering on the other side of the yard, soldiers who were off duty and some that were not, and shouts of encouragement rained from the wall behind the benches as well.
Jessa followed the game as never before, feeling excitement and wonder and all the things she had experienced the previous night. That a woman participated so casually in a men’s sport did not surprise her, for Darry seemed to allow very few restrictions in her behavior. Jessa was surprised that no one else seemed bothered by her involvement, however. Indeed, her comrades seemed to favor her, to judge by their shouts. They accepted her as one of their own, and Darry was easily the best player there.
And she was beautiful in her strength. Jessa smiled beneath her veil when Darry laughed, and the open affection with which she greeted her teammates charmed Jessa. Darry’s femininity revealed itself in those moments and set her apart from the others in a most alluring fashion. Jessa had seen round ball many times in her life but never before had she been so invested in the outcome. She wanted very much to see Darry possess her jade and to reward her for her skill.
When the final stick was made, it was Royce who kicked the ball into a post and through the gate. Jessa forgot etiquette altogether and cheered with Emmalyn and Alisha as she experienced an unfamiliar swell of pride.
Then the winners sought out their spoils. Alisha gave her gold brooch to Jacob, along with a passionate kiss.
Emmalyn met Royce as he approached and held out her lace. Royce wiped his hands on his trousers before taking it and kissing the palm of her hand.
And Darry waited beyond them all.
“Do you not want your prize, my Lady?” Jessa asked. She had not missed the troubled expression or the timidity that had invaded Darry’s posture as the others had stepped out and she had not. “It would appear that you will have to settle for my small token. I’m sorry.”
Bentley stepped close with an easy smile, throwing his arm about Darr
y’s neck and pulling her forward. “Might I see it?” he asked, and Jessa let him take it. “Well won, my Lady.” Bentley set the jade in Darry’s hand, smiling down at her. “I’m not sure what you’ll do with it, though,” he said, his eyes filled with mischief.
Darry raised the jewel in her dusty hand and looked up with a smile. “I do,” she said, and Jessa laughed happily.
*
The afternoon after lunch was warm, and Darry was still enjoying the freedom of a day without duties. Their group joked about Jacob’s prowess on the field as they entered the massive courtyard beyond the kitchens. Darry kept very close to Jessa as they neared the kennels.
She had wanted the jade, but now she found herself pulled even further. She wanted a kiss as well, as she had received the night before. She wanted more of everything where Jessa was concerned, and though at first she enjoyed the rush of such emotions, as the afternoon progressed they troubled her because she was unable to push back her longing.
Gradually she put a distance between herself and Jessa, feeling hot in the sun as an ache began at the base of her skull. Jessa always found her, though, and occasionally brushed her arm or their hands would touch. And though Darry had no desire to escape such attention, her head spoke other words. Yet she became terribly vulnerable to the demands of her heart.
When they approached the kennels a wave of anxiety engulfed Darry when she realized where she was, and her thoughts sharpened into deadly focus. The long structure was open on both ends beneath a slanted pine roof, and as they left the sun for its shade, Darry’s heart beat as if upon a bed of nails. She lagged behind the others, then stopped and backed away when she heard barking, her stomach churning at the heavy scent of the animals.
Jessa noticed Darry’s hesitation and her pale color. When several of the dogs were released and moved about Alisha’s legs with affection, Jessa followed in concern. “Darry?”
Emmalyn turned toward her holding a wolfhound pup, letting his small teeth nip at her hand. “Darry does not like the dogs,” she said. “She never comes here.”
Jessa understood such a fear all too well, though she was also aware that these animals were unlike Sylban’s dogs. She slipped her hand in Darry’s and held on. “I won’t let them hurt you,” she said, giving a tentative pull.
Darry resisted. “They don’t like me.”
“Why not?”
Darry evaded the question, her attention fierce upon the tall wolfhound that approached. The hound growled and the hackles on his back rose as he shook his wiry hair. He snapped his discontent and his bark filled the air around them, though he advanced no closer.
“Royce.” Emmalyn pushed her leg at the dog as Jessa stepped forward, putting herself between Darry and the hound. Royce grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back with a firm hand. The animal twisted and wagged his tail as Royce scratched his neck.
Jacob picked up a wayward pup. “They won’t bite, Darry, I promise.”
“When Darry was a girl, the dogs chased her,” Emmalyn said.
“Tried to eat me is more like it,” Darry said.
“Honestly, Darry.” Jacob approached her. “I’d never let them hurt you again.”
“They attacked you?” Jessa said. She knew the horrific damage that a dog was capable of inflicting, no matter their temperament.
“Yes,” Emmalyn said. Darry stepped away as Jacob held the pup out to her. “The animal was innocent but it might have killed Darry if our father hadn’t intervened. When he saw the blood on Darry’s torn clothes and her injuries, he put down two of the dogs that day.” She shuddered. “Jacob, stop it.”
Jessa maneuvered between them and took the pup before Jacob could advance any farther. “I’m not a champion of dogs either,” she said. “I’ve never known them to be kind.”
The pup licked at Jessa’s face beneath her veil and Darry’s tension seemed to ease somewhat when Jessa laughed softly.
“Sylban’s dogs,” Jacob said, “I hear he keeps them…for hunting.”
Jessa studied the pup’s innocent face. “Yes. For hunting.”
Darry stepped forward and tentatively reached out. If Jessa trusted the animal then surely she had nothing to fear, though her every instinct told her to back away. It’s only a pup…though the mother can’t be far away.
She knew they all watched but she made the effort. She had not touched one of the dogs since that afternoon years ago. Her hand hovered only a few inches away.
The puppy squirmed and Jessa smiled when the animal pushed her wet nose against Darry’s hand and licked her fingers without restraint. Darry let out a breath of startled laughter. She pulled away, though, rubbing her hand.
“I like her,” Jessa said kindly. “She has good taste.”
“Then she’s yours,” Jacob said.
Jessa stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“She’s just a pup, my Lady,” he replied. “She’ll be too small to hunt, and I’m not sure she’ll have the heart. She’s the runt of a large litter. One of the kennel lads has to feed her because the others won’t let her eat. She’s more suited to a lady’s gentle hand.”
Darry had to get away, so she had walked to the edge of the kennel. She felt almost savage as she glanced at Jessa and the puppy.
“Thank you, Jacob.” Jessa’s voice was a tad rough as she returned the pup. “I would like that, at least while I’m here.”
The pup barked and struggled to return to Jessa, her legs kicking and her plump little body twisting about as Jacob laughed. “You see? She loves you already, Lady Jessa.”
Darry saw the happiness on Jessa’s face and the ache within her head returned. And now you’ve made me ignore my instincts as well…
“Look how tiny she is, Jessa.” Alisha leaned over the pen as Jacob returned the pup to her family. “Perhaps she’ll be a lapdog.”
“My Radha would enjoy a companion, perhaps,” Jessa said.
Darry watched as Jessa leaned over one of the cages and couldn’t stop the erotic fantasy that blossomed in response. She saw herself claiming an open kiss as her spoils no matter the battle, her hands on Jessa’s hips, pulling her close and feeling their bodies together. Letting her hands move lower yet. She wondered how perfectly Jessa’s breasts might fit her hands, and if she would cry out when she—
Several dogs began to bark and one of the cages shook as the hound inside pounded at the gate in a sudden flurry of agitation. The barking spread, and the kennel erupted with a hard swell of noise as nearly every animal rose. Jacob shouted them down but they refused to obey. One of the kennel lads jumped over the nearest gate in order to calm the lead hound, whose fury was inciting the others.
And then they stopped.
As quickly as it had begun the barking died out. The dogs were restless and whimpering but no longer desperate in their passion to be freed.
Darry was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Eleven
The next afternoon, Jessa walked along the edge of the great hall. They had eaten lunch a few hours before and now the room was filled with music. Alisha and her mother, Lady Bella, sat beside Emmalyn and Cecelia as a troupe of court musicians played. They sought to choose the songs and perhaps a singer for the wedding fête, and with music in the air for no special occasion it was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.
Darry had been absent at dinner the night before, and it had been one of the longest meals of Jessa’s life. She worried that Darry had been more upset by their visit to the kennels than she had let on. And today, Darry had barely eaten her lunch. Her movements had been almost fragile as she cut her food, very measured and precise. Darry usually had a wonderful appetite.
Jessa stepped inside the solar and searched the room. She found Darry near the wide doors that were thrown open to the gardens beyond.
Darry stared into the garden and her stomach was shaky. Her food was not sitting well and she was anxious beyond anything she had felt in some time. Not only was Jessa’s presence upsetting, b
ut her own frustration and temper troubled her as well. Frustration at the feelings she could only repress and anger that she had left herself so completely unguarded, that she was letting herself be so easily distracted.
She had spent the night reading from a book of poems that she loved well. The words of Eban Parrabas had blurred as her focus wandered, though she followed the letters regardless. She knew them by heart, she knew where they led and what they made her feel. Parrabas had written many works in his lifetime, but his poetry called to her like few scholarly things ever had.
Darry understood her limitations, but the words of his poems told her that such restrictions were a lie. They promised that the world and all its wonders were hers if she would just accept them. But she had to accept them without trying to change either what she encountered or herself.
Such a promise eased her heart and slowed her blood. She had sat on the floor, her back against the end of her bed, and read the words repeatedly, following the curve of the ink and seeing where the scribe had paused his quill.
She had spoken the words aloud until their cadence soothed her needs and her arousal faded. She had read until she no longer thought of Jessa’s lips against her own, or of the fire in Jessa’s eyes as she had offered her jade. She read until the peace of the poet’s thoughts became her own, though in doing so she had barely slept yet again.
Darry had fallen onto her bed near dawn, and even then she had awoken in a violent manner, crying out from her dreams as she held herself, spending her spirit against her own rough hand. She had come with Jessa’s voice in her head and the sheets tangled about her legs, confused and aching and not knowing what would happen next.
You need a good night’s sleep, that’s all. I’ll read again and the words will—
“Darry?”
Darry flinched and turned at the soft voice.
“I’m sorry, forgive me, please,” Jessa said.
