The Taming

by Imogen Keeper

  “No.”

  “Is it inappropriate in some way?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything at all wrong with it?”

  “Monna wouldn’t have let me do it, even if I’d tried.” Staria shrugged. “I never knew Tor anyway. It’s not like I love him. And I hate his mother. I won’t be sad never to see that lizard again.”

  For a moment Klym was transported straight back to the Institute when she and Malina used to snicker behind their hands about Tutor Heilani. She laughed. “Will you give me your word you won’t repeat what I’m about to tell you?”

  Staria surveyed her dingy, empty cell, then leaned her face between the bars. “I did have plans to tell the toilet. But if it’s really important, I won’t.”

  “I want to make a holo-vid. I’m the first person from Argentus to come here. I just want to show them that you aren’t all that bad.”

  Staria cocked her head. “Why?”

  “If Tor and I have any hope of making a life together, I’d like to know that I tried my hardest to make peace between our planets.”

  Staria pushed her lips out, and her eyes took on an almost feral gleam. “If we do that, will the Argenti come here?”

  “Would you want that?”

  “I hear they have magic cocks.”

  Klym laughed. For the first time since her father had given her to Spiro, and she’d left the Institute and Malina behind, she felt like she had a friend. “It’s not the cock,” she said. “It’s the serum. And it isn’t magic. It’s science.”

  Staria sank her teeth into her lip and gave her a sneaky smile. “Give me Argenti science serum over Lasseron’s bunions any day.”

  33

  Some secrets really are

  better than others

  JANNA ARRIVED as requested with the steward, Renalli.

  He babbled about the rules regarding prisoners, and Klym remembered what Tor had said. Three rules.

  “Let her out, please.”

  Renalli used a set of keys swinging from a long rope on his belt and opened Staria’s cell.

  Staria walked through the bars of her cell and stopped in front of Klym. “I won’t forget this.”

  They climbed the stairs as fast as they could. Even Renalli appeared to be in a rush to vacate the dungeon.

  At the top of the stairs, she grabbed Janna and Staria by the arms and dragged them toward her chamber.

  “Where are we going?” asked Janna.

  “To get some science serum,” Staria announced succinctly.

  “What is that?”

  “Argenti men.”

  Janna balked. “My brother would not approve.”

  “Not for me.” Klym dragged her forward. “For Staria.”

  Janna chewed her lip contemplatively as they walked. “What would happen,” she asked musingly, bright spots of color on each of her cheeks, “if you paired an addictive Argenti male with a Vestige felana in heat?”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” said Staria. “Insanity.” She pointed at Klym. “She’ll be the first Argenti woman with a Vestige Prime. I want to be the first Vestige felana with an Argenti.”

  Klym flushed at the blatant reference to her and Tor’s nonexistent sex life. She’d had no idea it was so universally understood. “Peace,” she muttered, only paying half attention.

  Janna’s brows drew together. “Is peace with the Argenti even possible?”

  Klym was still stuck imagining the wide variety of outcomes when an Argenti woman and a Vestige Prime mated. Would he become addicted to her? She tried to imagine him panting and even wilder. Or maybe she’d be addicted to him. It was hard to imagine she could be reduced to something even more base or wild. Would they have a Bond at all? Did she want one?

  “Klym?”

  Klym jerked, focusing on Janna’s face.

  “Is peace even possible?” Janna stopped walking in the hallway. “If the war ended, so many men could be saved.”

  Klym wanted to touch her, maybe squeeze her hand, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough with her, so she just said, “Like Dillan. And Tor.”

  “The raids could end.” Staria apparently did feel comfortable enough and slid her hand into Janna’s. “I’ve lost two brothers in base assaults. And more cousins than I can even count.”

  Klym hadn’t thought about that component of the Vestige world. Argenti died daily in the war, but they were Tribe warriors. The civilians at home had no role in the war. But on Vesta, every man old enough to wield a sword did, like Tor at age eleven. “I think we could. There are some politicians on Argentus who want it.”

  Janna didn’t respond, but her eyes stayed somber.

  They arrived at her and Tor’s chamber, and Klym retrieved her holo-cam. She flipped through the existing film on fast-forward. There was good footage there, especially from Frigorria. But she’d need to get some new footage, and it would all have to be edited. The thought had her fingers practically twitching with anticipation. This had always been her favorite part in school, splicing the footage together into a single holo.

  Janna’s gaze traveled along the new carpet on the terrace to the pristine white bedding that had replaced the heavy old burgundy and brown. She still had that slightly haunted look on her face, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do.

  Klym nudged Janna’s foot. “You won’t tell your mother what we are doing?”

  Janna pointed at Staria. “You can trust me as much as her.”

  Staria shrugged. “For an Argenti Tribesman, I’ll do whatever she tells me and keep my mouth shut.”

  Tapping the holo-cam, Klym hesitated.

  Janna’s mouth hardened and something moved in her eyes that looked like grim resolve. “I’ll tell you something no one knows, and you can keep it secret for me. You tell me something, and I’ll keep it secret for you.”

  “I want to make a holo to send back to Argentus that shows the people here. I know a politician named Spiro back home. And another named Agammo. I can get the holo to them. I think they could use it to convince people that not everyone on Vesta is a cannibal or a troll.”

  “Tor’s mother is,” said Staria.

  “She is not a cannibal,” said Janna.

  “So you admit it!” Staria jabbed a finger into the air at Janna. “She is a troll.”

  Janna made a tutting sound at her. “She’s my mother, too.”

  Staria shrugged. “She’s still a troll.”

  Janna sucked in her cheeks. “Oh, plug your ears.”

  With a roll of her eyes, Staria shoved her fingers in her ears and hummed loudly. The breeze toyed with Klym’s short hair, reminding her that she’d need to find someone who could cut it.

  Janna cupped her hand against Klym’s ear and leaned. “I let Sanger into the Roq the night my father died.”

  Klym’s jaw dropped.

  She froze, her eyes locked on the tammin vines on the balcony.

  Janna backed away, and Klym turned to meet her eyes.

  She nodded slowly and leaned in again. “I opened the door at the back of the library so that he could get in.”

  “How did you get in contact with him?” Klym whispered back.

  “He’s my half-brother. His sister, Amaline, was my half-sister, and my closest friend. Father would have sold me in a second if it meant he could secure his position for another minute.”

  She dropped her hand away from her mouth, and Klym sat back in her chair, stunned.

  The vines swayed, and Staria kept on humming. When nothing happened, she dropped her fingers and stopped humming. “Are you two good?”

  Klym nodded, rather light in the head and beyond confused. Janna had conspired with Sanger to kill the old regio.

  “Your secret is better than mine,” she breathed.

  Staria drummed her fingers. “I bet hers can’t end a war.”

  “I like your secret,” Janna said. “I think Tor will be proud.”

  Staria rested her skinny elbows on he
r knees. “Are you in love with him, then?”

  Both of them stared at Klym, with their dark, curling hair, and their wide, dark eyes, their solemn, pale faces.

  Klym’s chest felt suddenly hollow, and her vision darkened. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve ever really loved anyone.”

  They frowned. Janna’s brows lowered. “What about your mother?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “And your father?”

  “He’s a dick.” The statement made her smile, which seemed to confuse them both.

  Then the smile faded, because it was true. She’d fallen in love with her captor just as he’d said she would.

  In three days, Tor would come back. This time, it would be her choice.

  She’d tell him that she loved him. She’d show him the holo.

  They’d make peace with Argentus, and war with the Alliance, and love with each other. Forever.

  34

  A peace deal?

  KLYM had just taken a bite of painnea when the steward appeared in the doorway, and she set down her fork.

  There was only one reason he’d come for her at this time.

  She’d spent nearly every minute with Staria and Janna during Tor’s absence, working on the holo-vid. It was like having friends again, like being back at the Institute with Malina, like having a family, only better because there was no regimen of strict meals, classes, and exercise. She even ate breakfast with them, and slowly, the other felanas softened toward her.

  They should be allowed to stay at the cassia. She wanted to tell Tor that. He should let them choose. There was no reason they couldn’t. They’d formed a sisterhood, and slowly, they were opening their ranks to her.

  She glanced at Staria and Janna across the table and rose.

  Tor was back. The holo-vid was ready. She’d show it to him. She’d tell him that she wanted to stay. That she wanted to be his wife for real.

  “How long has he been back?” she asked the steward, when she’d crossed to him.

  “Nearly an hour.”

  He’d been back for an hour, after three days, and she hadn’t known.

  “Did he send for me?” She didn’t quite manage to hold back the plaintive note form her voice.

  The steward shook his head reluctantly. “He’s in his office.”

  She slid her hand into her pocket, wrapped her fingers around the holo-cam, and rehearsed what she’d say as she walked. I changed my mind. Forget the deal. If you’ll have me, I want to stay. I love you.

  His voice boomed down the hall, and she increased her pace. He’d smile when she told him, he’d stop being mad, he’d kiss her and probably, definitely, he’d throw her over his shoulder and take her straight to bed, where he’d make love to her, finally without a single lie or untruth or barrier between them.

  She just knew it.

  She slowed as she approached his office, not wanting to interrupt. She recognized Jeor’s hesitant, soft voice, “It sends a bad message though. Shunning the felanas in favor of a foreign selissa.”

  “Part of the treaty involves stopping harems,” Tor said.

  Treaty? She wondered idly. By whom?

  “That’s absurd,” said Jeor. “They can’t make a demand like that. It’s not just about Tamminia. The harems are everywhere. Didgermmion, Channis, Jiannnag. You really think you can convince them to agree to it?”

  She had to see him. She peeked just one eye around the doorjamb, and her heart skittered at the sight of him. He was dressed as he’d been the last time she’d seen him, in military pants and a shirt, looking huge and deadly. There was a length of gauze around his left hand, and a bruise along his left jaw. She let her eyes rove along his body, staring hungrily at proof that he was fine.

  “I think I can talk to them individually. Maybe get them to just sit down for a comm with Franno, or maybe the Premier.”

  Gaspart blew out his cheeks. “I’ve got some leverage with Channis.”

  Agammo’s father? And the Premier? Of Argentus? Klym pulled back, reeling.

  “Sanger can deliver Didgermmion, but he’s not ready yet.”

  “Is that what he was doing with Klym?” Jeor asked.

  “It was his way of proving I could trust him.”

  She covered her mouth with her hands. Maybe Franno was a Vestige. Maybe the name existed on both planets? That didn’t make sense.

  Someone tapped a table, a steady drum.

  “So, the deal would get them access to Vestige females on Argentus for mates, a cessation of engagement, an Argenti selissa, and boots on the ground here. What’s in it for us?”

  Klym shook her head. Had she heard that right?

  “Peace. The end of the Alliance. Freedom from their taxes.”

  Gaspart chuckled. “The Vestige do love their freedom.”

  “Exactly,” said Tor. “The Alliance is pushing too hard. They’re looking for an excuse to take thrones, like Pijuan here. Klym would serve as proof that we’re serious. Argenti value Bondings. They’d take her presence by my side as proof. The other rulers will understand that.”

  Gaspart’s low chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “It’s perfect. Tor’s marriage stops the war with Argentus and gives us the perfect way to provoke the Alliance. The perfect plan.”

  She backed away from the doorway, her heart in her throat.

  Klym would serve as proof. Just another part of a plan.

  The holo-cam fell from her hand and hit the carpet in the hall. It bounced and rolled to a standing column beside a glass window overlooking the golden lake.

  She shook her head, trying to clear it, replaying her conversation with her father through the holos on Tor’s ship. The way Tor shifted at the first mention of peace. How he’d told her to leave after the conversation with Agammo. Had he called him back?

  Had he planned this from the beginning?

  She remembered the look in his eyes on the streets of Frigorria, the look she hadn’t understood.

  He hadn’t taken her because he’d wanted her.

  He’d taken her because he’d had to. It had all been arranged. He’d tricked her. She’d been thinking of love and seeing stars and forevers and magic, and all the while, he’d been seeing money and peace deals.

  Pathetic. She’d taken his honoring the terms of their agreement as proof that he loved her. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t him honoring her wishes or respecting her. It was just him using her to stop a war.

  Her body moving like an automaton, she drifted through the cassia. Her feet just kept on plodding as if her body belonged to someone else, her hands pushed open the quatrefoil gate, and she entered the garden.

  She had to shake herself, staring blankly. She barely remembered the walk from Tor’s office, down the steps, through the hall.

  The gate groaned and clanked when it fell shut.

  The thick jungle scent of damp flowers and hot springs hit her like a slap in the face.

  She’d been so naïve. Of course, Tor had planned it. He’d known who she was even back on Spiro’s ship. The daughter of the Chief of the War Committee. That was one of the first things he’d ever said to her. Had he always intended to use her?

  She squeezed her eyes shut. So stupid. So naïve.

  Nothing is fair, amiera, and no one is free. He’d been so right.

  She sat on the edge of the pool where she’d sat with Staria, and pulled the bandages off her feet just as he had done on the ship. The way he’d blown on her feet, stroked his thumb on her calves, said so gently that he wasn’t used to women like her. How he had lifted her into his arms and held her against his chest, carried her down the hall.

  He’d been so furious when she’d gone into town and gotten caught in the riot, but not because he loved her and cared, but because she’d risked destroying the peace he’d been trying to build.

  And getting rid of the felanas. He hadn’t done it for her. It wasn’t because he wanted her and only her and no one else. He’d done it for himself. The whole thing. All
of it had been about the future of Vesta and peace with Argentus.

  Her head was reeling; it was like the whole garden was spinning orbits around her. Her stomach hitched like she might vomit.

  One thing came into focus. Tor’s mother crossing the garden toward her. The bells on her shoes tinkling, a long scarf trailing from her fingers. She sat down beside Klym on the edge of the pond.

  “Klymeni,” she said, in that dour, flat voice of hers.

  “Please, Layanna.” Klym tried to sit up straight, but it wasn’t possible. It felt like her whole body had deflated. “Not now.”

  “Have you seen the news this morning?”

  “No,” Klym whispered back. She’d seen nothing this morning. She’d worked with Janna and Staria to make the video of her happy and smiling at the holo-cam, introducing Argentus to Vesta, telling the entire population of the universe how happy she was here, how in love with the people and the place… and a man.

  Humiliation burned in her blood like lava.

  “They’re saying you’ve captivated him. That you aren’t even his true wife.”

  Klym couldn’t work up enough energy to care. She was a traitor. She’d left one Argenti warrior bleeding on the floor, escaped with a Vestige, and fallen in love with him.

  He’d been using her just as her father had used her.

  For peace. Could she even be angry? Her father had been right--who was she to expect happiness when her body could be sold and traded for peace between billions of people?

  Layanna trailed her finger on the pond, ripples circling out from her touch to spread across the water, sending the flowers bouncing and jostling against one another.

  “I have contacts all over this planet. Friends in harems in every major city. My sister is a favored second in the harem of the Commander of the Alliance. They are coming for you.”

  Klym tore her gaze from the ripples on the pond to look at Layanna, uncomprehending. What was she saying? Why was she telling her this?

  Layanna’s dark eyes, so like Tor’s, narrowed. “They’ll be here in five hours. What do you think Tor will do?”