No Words Alone (11 page)

Her words were ignored.

“Very well,” Lord Atarus said at length, as
if she’d never spoken. He looked rather grumpily at his son. “It
will delay events, though.We do not have a communication relay set
up that can bounce a message that far. One will have to be set up.
It will take time. There is also the issue of security; pin beams
are not the most secure of media. Something will have to be done
about that.” “Yes,” Ryven said calmly. “I will bear the expense. It
will be my bride gift.”

His father sighed. “It will be arranged,
then.”

Xera stared at them until she remembered
herself. “Thank you.The LG nodded regally, and then returned to his
dinner with an air of resignation. Ryven merely inclined his
head.

Xera couldn’t eat, so she sipped her drink
instead. Turmoil whipped her heart into a storm. She thought she’d
never see her sisters again, never speak to them. The chance to
tell them she was alive, was okay, was a golden gift. She didn’t
ask for more, didn’t even hope. She understood these people more
every day, knew what a concession she’d been given. Even aside from
the distances involved, there was the political hostility.

She didn’t want to think too deeply on it,
but she knew their plans for her. They wouldn’t let her go. What
she didn’t understand was why. Why her? Ryven was the son of a
powerful family, and quite a force in his own right. Surely he
could have any one of dozens of women.

She glanced up as the Lord Governor’s words
caught her ear.

“Your brother has made my heart glad. This
promotion he’s earned is just the thing.”

Ryven grinned. “I see how you are. If your
sons make commander you think you will see marriage in their near
future.”

His father looked pleased with himself. “My
theory would seem to have merit. Once you stop thinking of your
careers, other needs hold your attention.” He glanced at Xera,
transparently pleased. “He leaves on his first mission shortly.
Make no mistake; his mind will turn to a wife of his own once the
thrill has settled. It is the next great challenge.”

Xera studied her drink, faintly annoyed at
being classified as a challenge. To her mind it was no reason to
get married.

“Come, my dear,” Tessla interrupted her
thoughts. “They’ve degenerated into discussing starship
specifications, and you look as bored as I am. We will take a walk
and I will show you around the staterooms.” The men nodded
congenially to the women and went back to their discussion.

The floors were all tiled in marble or
elegant woods. Long drapes of silk and velvet framed the arches
between rooms, dampening sound and giving the rooms an inviting,
exotic look. There was a great deal of stained glass art and lamps,
interspersed with scrolled metalwork in the style of wrought iron.
Portraits and landscapes hung on the walls in gilded frames,
inviting Xera to stop and look. A particularly arresting one made
her pause and study it. The landscape had been painted at sunset,
with the light glinting off the lake. It wasn’t light in full
bloom, but the last throes of dying sun that cast shadows on the
mansion in the center. It managed to be poignant and moody,
beautiful and exciting at the same time.

“This is amazing,” she said at last, aware
that the aunt was watching her. “Caught between the old and new,
life and dying. I feel so sad for the past, yet hopeful for the
future when I look at it. I didn’t know a painting could say so
much.”

“Thank you,” Tessla murmured. “It took me
days to find just the right light to portray the mood.”

Surprised, Xera sent her a questioning
look.

“Of course it is my work. I have done several
of the portraits here.”

“You’re very talented,” Xera said honestly.
“I wish I could capture feelings like that.”

“Have you ever tried it? Art, that is.”

Xera laughed. “I don’t think I have that kind
of talent. To be honest, I never tried. I was always better at
physical things.”

“Dancing?”

“Never tried it. Martial arts were more
interesting. Seemed more pertinent to my future, too.”

“Hm. You will try the dancing now, then. I
will arrange for you to view several different styles. It is best
not to let a figure as trim as yours waste away for lack of
exercise.”

Reminded of her present situation, Xera’s
mood dimmed.

The Lady looked at her knowingly and linked
their arms. She led Xera to a small alcove and bade her sit. “Come.
We will speak of this thing. You have no female elder of your
family here to advise you, so I will listen and tell you my
thoughts.”

It was a generous offer, even if it was, like
so many of the Scorpio statements, voiced as a command. Xera
decided to take advantage of it. “Why does he want to marry me?
Surely there are lots of willing women here.”

The Lady smiled. “This is the heart of your
confusion? You have not asked him, then?”

Xera grimaced.

“Very wise,” the Lady agreed sagely. “Men do
not know their own feelings. I do know his father is delighted he
has finally chosen
anyone
. He has despaired for years of
seeing his son wed. The man is obsessed with seeing grandchildren,
though of course he wants his son happily settled as well. For
years he has shoved young women under Ryven’s nose, until he
finally realized he was killing his own cause. Ryven has been more
inclined to choose his own women, and not for honorable purposes.
You were right in saying he has his pick.”

Xera looked down, embarrassed.

“I tell you this only that you may understand
what an...interesting thing it is that he has brought you here to
meet his father. Amorata are never given such an honor, of course.
It can only mean that he has met his match. But of course, he is
marrying you, isn’t he?”

Xera folded her arms. Sourly, she said,
“Apparently. We are accustomed to being asked where I am from.”

“Would you say yes?”

“Of course not!”

The Lady smiled. “Then why would he risk his
heart? Our men seem very fierce, but they are tender enough when a
woman finds her way inside. You could wound him very easily.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“If you have any sense at all, do not pose
such a question to him until your first child, at least! My own
husband would not speak of his love until we had been married
twenty years! He was a very stubborn case,” Tessla confided. “Ryven
will lie to protect himself, just as you would now. Admit that you
would not speak the truth if asked about your feelings for
him.”

Xera was silent. She didn’t even know enough
about her feelings for him to do more than lie about the
obvious.

“He will be good to you,” Tessla said with an
air of finality. She rose gracefully to her feet. “Come. It is time
for tea.”

They finished off the meal with “small bites”
that were spicy or savory rather than sweet, and then Ryven walked
her home.

Xera didn’t want to talk. She’d only known
Ryven a week. That wasn’t much time to understand the man with whom
she was now expected to spend the rest of her life. He’d stood up
for her, though, and that had touched her deeply.

“Thank you,” she said, after he’d closed the
door to her suite behind them. “I appreciate what you did.”

He made her a short bow. Very formally, he
told her, “You realize we are betrothed. That much I insist
on.”

She looked at him sidelong and chose an
overstuffed chair to sit on. In spite of her emotional fatigue, she
tried to choose her words carefully. “That is your
prerogative.”

He studied her. Whatever his thoughts, he
said only, “You’re tired.”

“I am.”

“Tomorrow, then. I’ll give you the night
to...think.”

He was letting her be for now, then. Grateful
for the space, she said simply, “Thank you.”

He inclined his head in farewell and let
himself out.

Chapter 9

Lady Tessla hadn’t been kidding; she had Xera
in a dance class first thing in the morning, and Xera was finding
it hard going.

The thing was, Xera had always liked sports. She had
a natural talent for martial arts and enjoyed things like rock
climbing and hiking. Unfortunately, none of that gave her any grace
on the dance floor. Of course, that may have been due to the style
of the dance: belly dancing was nothing like the fighting arts she
knew. The movements were soft, circular, and oddly relaxing, even
when she fumbled. Undeniably sensual, the hip circles and graceful
arm movements (well, the other women were graceful, anyway) drew
her attention to body parts she usually lost track of in
sports.

Tessla led the class, which consisted of perhaps
twenty women of all ages. Dancing was a highly respected pastime
for women here, and considered not only excellent for posture and
bearing, but a wonderful conditioner for childbearing as well. Xera
could tell from her own aching abs that yes, such toning might be
useful on the birthing stool. Not that she wanted to think about
children; definitely not yet.

“Relax, Xera. The movement should look as if you are
waving your arms gently through water, not as if you had sticks
attached to your shoulder sockets,” Lady Tessla chided. A few of
the other ladies grinned at her in a friendly way. There was no
rivalry here.

It was a pretty room, too. There were three walls of
mirrors and one devoted to a lovely pink sunset mural. Burgundy
curtains hung from a ceiling medallion and were gathered at the
corners by tasseled ropes, giving the room the look of luxurious
tent. Pillows were scattered at the edge for any who wished to
watch the class, and candles were generously distributed. Xera
could enjoy having frequent workouts in a room like this.

She couldn’t seem to get the hip shimmy right. When
Lady Tessla demonstrated, Xera saw hips shaking but was told the
movement came from the knees. Unfortunately her version of the move
left something to be desired. Her lower back and sides were aching
by the time she was done, and she still couldn’t get those hips to
swivel on command.

Ryven was standing in the observation area when she
came off the floor. His arms were crossed and he was watching her
intently, his head slightly lowered. “Interesting,” he
commented.

She raised an eyebrow. Everyone else was
filing out toward the showers and locker room. “That’s one word for
it. I’ll say this for dancing; it’s very relaxing. I don’t think
I’ve ever been refreshed after a workout before.”

His eyes scanned her sarong skirt, cropped
top and form-fitting tights. “You’ve made me curious. I’d like to
see your fighting art.”

“What? Now?” She glanced around the empty
studio. It seemed kind of a girly setting for an impromptu
dojang
.

“You’re not intimidated, are you?” he asked
lazily.

“Oooh...” She mock glowered at him. “Play
dirty do, you? I hadn’t intended to show you any of my skills. I’ve
already seen your men practice, and I don’t measure up.” There was
also a part of her that didn’t want him to know what she could
do...just in case.

“Tell that to your captain.” He circled her,
his body relaxed yet menacing.

She turned to face him, her hands up,
prepared. “I’m human. You’re not. You’re going to be faster.”

“I’ll try not to fall asleep.” He chopped at
her head, but slowly, softly enough that no damage would have been
done even if he had connected. A baby could have blocked him.

She returned the favor with a controlled
kick.

He shifted and her foot slid past him. His
eyes took on a hot gleam as he aimed for her throat.

Slowly the dance got faster, more complex.
She didn’t fool herself that she had seen a tenth of what he could
do, but this session didn’t seem to be about fighting. The more
they moved together, the higher their pulse, the hotter his eyes
blazed. Soon they were fever bright, burning with an excitement she
shared. When his hand lashed like lightning and seized the back of
her head, the other her waist, she was not shocked. The way he
looked at her, the slow way he brought her mouth to his as if about
to devour her whole,
that
shocked her. That self-control of
his was devastating.

Sparks started in her brain. Soon a white-hot
fire obscured her vision, spurred by the heat of his tongue, the
fire of his touch. Dizzy, hungry, she clung to him as the heat ate
her marrow, her strength. Ah, if this was what it was like, if this
was how he made love, she had nothing to worry about in his
bed.

The thought triggered a sudden panic. She
jerked away as if bitten by ice water. “We’re not married.”

“Not my fault,” he murmured, making for her
lips.

She wrenched away, aware that he allowed her
to go. He didn’t look pleased, though. “We are not married,” she
repeated, stronger this time.

He crossed his arms and regarded her.

Discovering her hands were shaking wasn’t
pleasant. She hugged herself to disguise it. “Look, I don’t know
what your morals are here, but we don’t do certain things before
we’re married on my world. A woman can be ruined if anyone even
thinks she has. I’ve no interest in becoming a whore.” Ah, but it
had not always been true. She’d been tempted as a youth, had nearly
brought her family to disaster, all for the price of a few kisses.
If it had been anyone other than her sister who had discovered her,
she would have disgraced them all. The memory burned. She cared
about her family. It wasn’t all about her.

“You haven’t been with a man before?”

His blunt question made her cheeks burn. “No.
I choose to wait.”

He blinked slowly as his eyes swept her. “How
inexperienced must you remain to satisfy this honor of yours?”

Her neck got hot. She hadn’t been deaf, dumb
and blind while she’d been offworld. She knew what he was talking
about. “No, Ryven.”