Meri (2 page)

The Matriarch crossed her arms over her chest and stated, “Remove your tunic or my grandsons will remove it for you.”

Ademis glared at the grinning men. Huge muscles rippled on their bare arms and chests. Their thighs and calf muscles bulged. And beneath their prominent brow ridges, their dark eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Ademis cursed silently. He might have a chance against one of them, but not both. They were simply too powerful. As he locked his gaze on the olive green woman with the iron gray topknot of hair, he said, “Very well. My mother
did
teach me to be polite to old ladies.”

While the Medirian king choked and buried his face in his hands again, Ademis jerked open the fastenings that ran diagonally down his form-fitted uniform and shrugged it off his shoulders, half hoping the one-piece uniform would fall all the way to his ankles. That would give everybody something to look at.

However, he hadn’t opened enough clasps. The top of his uniform slipped down his body and hung loosely on his hips.

The Aradab Matriarch simply pointed to his right shoulder and said, “Behold, a dol of Mediria.”

The king stopped choking, jerked his head up and leaned forward like every other person in the room.

“I feel like the newest attraction in a zoo,” Ademis growled to Chardadon as everyone in the room stared at the tattoo on his shoulder. A gleaming blue and white dol leaped out of a frothy blue-green sea. Slightly above and to the left flew a small green and yellow dragon.

His companion stared pointedly at his shoulder too. “You are.”

Stepping forward, the Patriarch of the Nissians traced the outline of the leaping dol on his shoulder. “Another piece of the Prophecy is revealed,” he said in a booming voice as he traced the dragon flying above the dol. “In the company of the dragon, the ‘Path to the Dols and Orcs’ returns to Mediria.” The old man looked up into Ademis’ face. “Welcome, son of the clan Lillalistross of Drakan. You are
most
welcome to us.”

Arms still crossed over his chest, Ademis stared into his face. “Mind telling me exactly why?”

“Didn’t you know,” Chardadon asked from his side, “that your clan totem is a representation of a Medirian dol? They’ve been searching for them for generations.”

“I know the story,” Ademis answered with a shrug. “I just didn’t know what a dol looked like.”

“You must have lived a very sheltered life,” the king said as the Patriarch stepped back. “The story and pictures of the dols and orcs have been broadcast numerous times.”

“Our clan was decimated by that damn plague centuries ago. Most of our time and energy was devoted to not becoming extinct. It’s taken generations to bring both our clan and orchards back to where they are now, and we’re still one of the smallest clans. Once I got to the Academy, I concentrated on my studies.”

Both the Patriarch and the king nodded.

Pulling his uniform back up, Ademis fastened it and looked at Chardadon. “Are we finished here? I have work to do on the ship.”

“You will not leave Mediria,” the Aradab Matriarch commanded.

Her grandsons kept grinning.

Ademis clenched his fists and stepped forward. Enough was enough. If they wanted a fight, he’d give them one. “Now just one damn minute! I’m not staying on Mediria just because I have a fish tattooed on my chest!”

“It’s not a fish. It’s a mammal,” a feminine voice called out.

“Surely you don’t expect my chief engineer to remain here indefinitely?” Chardadon asked in a dry voice as he grasped Ademis’ arm.

Before any words could come out of the Matriarch’s mouth, the king frowned at her then said, “Of course not, Char. But surely you could both stay the night so we can celebrate with a banquet?”

“He should not be permitted to leave until the dols are returned to us,” the Matriarch growled.

“We must decipher how he is involved in the prophecy,” added the Patriarch.

“
Krasdat
!” Ademis cursed.

Before he could say more, Char squeezed his arm. “We’ll be happy to stay the night, Your Majesty, but we must leave in the morning.”

After a quick glance at both the Patriarch and Matriarch, the king nodded. “Of course, Char.” He signaled a servant. “Show our guests to the Alalakans’ usual quarters.”

Still grumbling as he turned to follow Char, Ademis almost plowed into his captain’s back when the other man stopped suddenly.

“What the—” Ademis bit off the rest of his comment. Bandalardrac Hardan stood just off to the left of them, grinning at Char. Ademis shook his head. Someday he’d have to find out exactly why Char hated his cousin.

“Hello, Char, it’s good to see you again.”

Like Chardadon, Ademis’ attention was pulled from Bandalardrac to the woman standing by his side.

“Meri,” Char answered in a curt voice. “It’s nice to see
you
too.”

Everyone in the room understood the snub Char’d directed at his cousin. The Aradabs stood silently, but the other courtiers sent whispers racing around the room. No one knew why a prince of Mediria and his Drakian cousin were feuding, but speculation ran rampant. Most believed the rumor that Ban had spirited the woman Chardadon wished to marry off Drakan and into his bed, and after one night with Ban, not even a Drakian with a tail would ever appeal to her again.

Ademis ignored the whispers. That particular rumor might be true, but he didn’t really care. He was far more interested in the woman at Ban’s side, the one with her arms crossed over her full breasts—Meri, Char had called her.

Was she Ban’s current lover? Another old lover of Char’s Ban had taken away?

“Who is that woman to your cousin? His lover?” Ademis asked in a low voice as they followed the servant from the room and onto the balcony that circled the second story of the palace.

Starting, the other man jerked his attention from Ban and turned his gaze to Ademis. “Meri? Ban’s lover!” A short bark of laughter erupted from Char’s throat. Then, “Why?”

Ademis grunted. From Char’s reaction, she wasn’t Ban’s lover. “I want her.”

At first Char stared at him with a contemplative look on his face. Then he grinned and answered in a low voice, “That’s Merilinlalissa, the king’s oldest daughter.”

Soft, heady scents of tropical plants and a calm sea wafted through the window’s gauzy hangings to envelop Ademis. Surrounded by the murmuring conversations of at least a hundred people, Ademis frowned, leaned back against a smooth column and wished the lights weren’t so bright. If they were dimmer, he might be able to hide in a dark corner somewhere—maybe even slip away unnoticed.

“I’ve been on display since the moment I walked in the door,” he muttered as Char stopped next to him. “How soon do we eat? The sooner this banquet is over, the sooner I can get out of here. Besides, I’m hungry.”

Ever since they’d arrived at the reception, people had been staring at his naked shoulder—damn the traditional Lillalistross leather kilt the palace clothiers had managed to find. All this stiff leather was damn uncomfortable! At least he wasn’t wearing the crossed sword belts, though having a pair of sharp Drakian swords to deter all the curious Medirians might not be so bad. Those who were braver—or more stupid, Ademis couldn’t decide which—had asked him when he’d be bringing the dols and orcs back to Mediria, as if he knew where the damn animals were.

“You
are
on display,” his captain said with a grin. “Your clan tattoo is the embodiment of all their hopes and dreams. And the Medirians always dance before they eat. Dancing works up a good appetite, they say.”

“Just make sure you get me out of here tomorrow, Captain, or I swear the Alalakan ships will soon begin experiencing more mechanical problems than you can handle.”

Before Char could answer, a commotion across the room drew their attention. The dowager queen had finally joined the reception, but few people were looking at her. Instead, everyone’s attention was now focused on the young woman accompanying her.

“What the hell is Meri doing dressed in the royal Medirian betrothal costume?” Char asked no one in particular. “Findal didn’t mention anything about her getting married when we had our meeting earlier.”

Ademis stood stock-still. Even the fact that no one was staring at his shoulder anymore didn’t register in his brain. All of his attention was on the woman draped completely in white pearls. His stomach rolled, his heart pounded, and for the first time that evening, he was glad he was wearing the Lillalistross clan’s traditional leather kilt. It kept his now-hard, aching cock between his legs where it belonged. Fuck, but he wanted her, king’s daughter or not.

At that moment, she was the most fascinating woman Ademis had ever seen, even if she was the same light green color as the apps his clan grew in their orchards. Her face was rounder than a Drakian’s, her lips fuller. Dark lashes shaded equally dark eyes and her nose had a proud arch. Her ears weren’t pointed either. Held back by a simple pearl-covered band, her long, greenish-black hair cascaded down her back, reaching well below her waist.

Ademis shuddered. The thought of all that hair wrapped around his naked body had his cock straining against his kilt.

Dropping his gaze from her face, he followed the line of her slender neck to her shoulders and collarbone, then to her breasts—firm, ripe breasts that were fuller than those of Drakian women. Fuck, but he liked sucking on the nipples of full breasts. And squeezing his cock between them…

Ademis shuddered at the thought.

Shifting to try to ease the ache between his legs and licking his dry lips, he continued to stare at the costume that covered her breasts. Two circles of luminous Medirian pearls and sparkling white diamonds sewn onto some material covered only her nipples. Attached to the outsides of the circles, strands of more pearls about half an inch apart radiated outward, up to a thin pearl collar around her neck or down to a somewhat broader band that circled her chest just below her breasts. Low on her hips rode another thick band with a diamond-and-pearl-encrusted vee covering her pubis. Attached were long strands of pearls that fell from the band to the floor. From her navel dangled a cascade of pearls and diamonds. As she moved, the strands shifted and shimmied over her body revealing large expanses of her light green skin—skin that perfectly complemented the luminescent pearls shimmering around her.

All in all, to Ademis her form was feminine perfection. Carnal visions of what he wanted to do to her naked body—and what he wanted her to do to his—flitted through his mind. When a mental picture of her bent over presenting her ass to him surfaced, his tail jerked involuntarily beneath his kilt. That movement brought him back to the present. The last time he’d gone to bed with a Medirian woman, his use of his prehensile tail on her ass had shocked her enough to send her running from him. It wasn’t a mistake he’d make again. He’d best keep his tail to himself when he got Meri into bed. He wasn’t sure why, but he was absolutely certain she was one woman he didn’t want to scare away.

Swallowing thickly, his aching cock rubbing against the thin silk barrier that separated it from the hard leather of his kilt, Ademis stepped forward. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman so much. She
would
be in his bed before the night was over.

The king’s bellow stopped him.

“Meri! What in all the seven hells are you wearing?”

Crossing her arms over her breasts, Meri glared first at her grandmother then turned to her father. A cool evening breeze from the open balcony doors was swirling around her ankles and legs through the individual strands of pearls that made up her skirt before sweeping upward. Her ass was cold! “Grandmama ordered her guards not to allow me out of my rooms unless I was wearing this.”

His green face mottled with anger, the king turned to his mother. “What is the meaning of this?”

With everyone’s attention on her, the dowager queen preened. “I felt that tonight would be the perfect opportunity to announce Merilinlalissa’s betrothal to—”

The kind didn’t allow her to finish. “Damn your egotistical stubbornness, Mother, Meri is not getting married or betrothed—unless
she
wants to.” He glanced at his daughter. “Meri?”

Meri shook her head. “I haven’t met any man I’d want to marry, Father.”

The king turned his attention back to his mother. “You heard her. Now leave her be or you’ll be spending a great deal of time with the Aradabs.”

The dowager queen’s nostrils flared. “I
am
your mother, Findal, and I—”

“And I am your
king
and you will do as I say or spend your time away from court. You will stop meddling in the lives of your children and grandchildren starting now. Understand?”

Smiling, Meri watched her grandmother tremble with impotent anger. She had little choice but to acquiesce to her son’s order. He was the king after all. About time her father put Grandmother in her place. She acted as if she were still queen.

As Meri listened to her father chastise her grandmother, she contemplated going back to her room to change into something more appropriate. However, an uneasy feeling came over her. She was being watched. Her anger surged and she stiffened. Damn her grandmother for making her wear this ridiculous costume and damn that Tendallis Davenet for staring at her. He was probably drooling too.

Carefully glancing around the room from underneath her eyelashes, she soon spotted her grandmother’s choice for her husband. He was shifting from foot to foot and staring straight up at the ceiling. Good. He must have taken her father at his word. But if Tendallis wasn’t raising the hairs on the back of her neck, who was?

Further scanning brought her to Ban. His arms were crossed and he was frowning off to the left side of the room.

Meri snorted to herself. He was probably staring at Char. Still, she shifted her position slightly and followed the line of his gaze with hers—and encountered a roiling volcano of heat.

Hands fisted at his sides, body tensed and leaning forward, Lillalistross don al’ Ademis stared at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. His dark brown, almond-shaped eyes were almost black in their intensity…and passion.