No Words Alone (22 page)

“What if you’re in a shuttle and there’s a
problem? Wouldn’t it be nice to know what to do?”

Namae frowned at her. “I’d do the sensible
thing and call for help. It could be remote-flown to safety for
me.”

“What if there wasn’t time?” Xera
persisted.

“You can’t know everything,” Namae had said
placidly, and that had been the end of the conversation.

Xera told herself she’d be able to talk to
the guys she knew about it. After all, several them were pilots.
She’d have to be delicate about it, though. Surely they’d share
Ryven’s suspicions about her hobby, even if they were polite about
it.

Maybe they were right to worry. In the back
of her mind, there was still the question of
what if
.

The ironic thing was that she truly did love
to fly. There was a freedom to be found in the exercise that
existed nowhere else. Maybe Ryven could share that with her
someday…if he had enough trust in her.

He hadn’t said anything about her joining the
martial arts class. As the lone woman in the group of men, she was
often frustrated. The guys were reluctant to hurt her and were
gentler than they should be. She understood their confusion; after
all, she’d never be as fast or strong as they were. From their
point of view, she was wasting her time. She’d heard that before,
and it just made her more determined. She knew when she was right.
All she had to do was think of Captain Khan and push harder. The
guys would adapt in time.

Maybe it had been thoughts of Khan that had
prompted Ryven to give her permission. Despite the risks, he wasn’t
the sort of man to deny a woman the right to defend herself. As the
battle with the Khun’tat proved, things happened.

When she’d finished with the simulator for
the day, Xtal informed her he had the report she’d requested.

She tried to suppress a yawn as she cradled a
hot cup of tea. Unfortunately, it didn’t have quite the
rejuvenating powers of coffee. “Hold on to it for me, please. I’m
not feeling as paranoid as I was in the middle of the night. I
think it will keep for a couple more hours. I’d hate to ruin a
perfectly good nap over him.”

Xtal actually smiled. “As you wish.”

Unfortunately, her plans for a nap were
derailed. Her father-in-law and Ryven’s sisters invited her to
share lunch with them. It was too early in their relationship for
Xera to feel comfortable about not going, so she let Namae help her
dress for the occasion.

“Are you well? You don’t seem rested,” Namae
asked with concern as she brushed Xera’s hair. “Perhaps you should
sleep instead.”

Xera grunted. “I’d probably just dream about
the Khun’tat again.”

“Oh! I admit I’ve had a bad dream or two
since the attack. At least they have faded for me. I find listening
to soothing music during my rest to be helpful. It keeps me
grounded.”

“Good idea, but I’ve made it this long
without nightmares, so maybe last night was an aberration. Maybe
I’ll walk myself through some positive visualizations about slaying
them. Sometimes that helps.”

Namae seemed taken aback. “How…interesting.
Perhaps you can tell me how that’s done as we walk.”

Xera was surprised to see Shiza present at
the lunch. Though he spent most of the time speaking with Lord
Atarus about manly things, he did take the time to answer the
ladies’ questions about the recent attacks. When he noticed Xera’s
unease at the subject, he told the others, “Let’s choose another
subject than the Khun’tat. Xera has suffered evil dreams over this
and still doesn’t look recovered.”

Xera blinked, surprised by his perception.
“How did you know?”

It was Lord Atarus who answered. “Your
security team told Ryven. He spoke to us about it. We’d be amiss if
we didn’t look after you in his place.”

She smiled. “That’s kind of you, but don’t
leave the subject for my sake. I’m a big girl.” In spite of her
words, that line of discussion was closed for the rest of the
meal.

When her yawns finally became too hard to
contain, her amused father-in-law dismissed her. “Go, sleep. Play
some sweet music as you rest; it often banishes ill dreams.”

“Thank you,” Xera said. As if in
afterthought, she asked Shiza, “Will you walk me to the door? I
need your opinion about something.” She glanced at Namae and smiled
at the girl’s scowl. It was fun teasing her, and fine if she
thought the conversation concerned her. In a way, it did.

Shiza blinked slowly but rose from his
cushion. “Of course.”

Once they’d turned into the entrance hall,
she paused. “I have a question about Ryven. I would have asked
Namae, but I don’t want to upset her.”

“About Tovark?”

Xera nodded.

Shiza looked grave. “You should ask your
husband these things.”

She sighed. “I’d love to, but he’s a little
busy right now. I try not to worry, but I can’t help it about
things like this. I don’t want any more sleepless nights.”

Shiza inclined his head. “What was your
question?”

Xera looked at the wall while she gathered
her thoughts. “When I asked him about Tovark, Ryven said he broke
him financially and socially. He made the whole thing seem very
bloodless, but when I saw Tovark yesterday...” She looked at
Shiza.

He appeared disapproving. “You think Ryven
lied to you?”

“I think he omitted a few details.” They had
a silent standoff for a moment.

Shiza watched her with crossed arms, as if
calculating his answer. “The social retribution was for what Tovark
did to Namae. The physical punishment concerned what he did to her
maid.”

Xera felt her stomach clench. “What was
that?”

His look chastened her. “Doubtless he wished
to spare you, but it seems too late for that now. Tovark couldn’t
reach Namae; her family would no longer permit it. It angered him,
so he sought a less well-guarded target. He took her maid and
savaged her instead…. Since he didn’t rape her, he was not
sentenced to death, but as a member of the family who employed her,
Ryven was given permission to execute justice, short of maiming and
blinding. You’ve seen the results.”

She took a breath. “So Ryven hunted him down
and...”

“Fought him, though Tovark has little skill
to boast of. Did you think he was restrained for Ryven’s pleasure?
That isn’t how we serve justice.”

“I didn’t know what to think, which is why I
asked,” Xera said, feeling sick. “Thank you, I understand now. What
happened to the maid?”

Shiza looked pensive. “Namae’s family paid
for the recovery, but the girl wanted nothing more to do with
serving great houses. She returned home and eventually
married.”

At least there was that. “I can see why Xtal
punched him. Ugh!” Xera shook her head as if to dislodge the
thought. “Okay, I need something more pleasant to think about, and
there was one more thing. When is Ryven’s birthday?”

Shiza looked puzzled by the question, but
after a long pause he told her. She thanked him and said
goodbye.

Of course, she wasn’t really able to shake
the story of the maid from her mind so quickly; that sort of thing
took a while to process. It was better knowing the truth than
doubting her husband’s restraint, though. She had enough problems
on her plate without adding that.

Chapter 17

Each day, Xera added an entry to a journal.
She’d found the tome in a shop that sold handmade paper and bound
books. She’d been charmed by some flower petal paper and amused by
a selection of scented inks, but it was the tooled leather notebook
with creamy, faintly speckled paper that caught her eye. She hadn’t
kept a journal in years, but knew the practice was therapeutic.
Figuring she could use a little therapy, she bought the book. Now
she used it to keep track of her thoughts. It provided a useful
sounding board, and she would consult the entries to fill out
messages she would send to her sisters.

Ryven had told her she could send one message
a week, and he was generous at that. The cost of pinbeam over such
distances was prohibitive, to say the least, but she was grateful
for everything she could get. It was fortunate he was such a
wealthy man, and even more so that her family could afford the
bill. It was an expensive way to communicate, but she certainly
felt the money was well spent.

She was starting to settle into a routine;
one she knew she’d use often, if this separation were usual with
Ryven’s job. She missed him, but also realized that even if he were
there she couldn’t own every minute of his day. She was thinking of
getting a part-time job, something that wouldn’t interfere with her
studies. The whole ambassador gig was all good and well, but it
made for some slow days when the people she was supposed to
represent were light years away.

She smiled, thinking ruefully that she was a
true working-class girl. She’d landed in the lap of luxury with few
demands on her time, and suddenly the idea of owning her own tavern
and busting her tail waiting tables sounded appealing. Not that she
really wanted to go back to that, specifically; nor did she want to
run a staff of maids as she had done. Being in charge had been an
interesting challenge, even though she’d worked as hard at
scrubbing as any of the others and been forced to deal with the
staff, too. She wasn’t sure what she wanted; she just felt
restless. Maybe she needed to own her own business.

Then again, maybe it was more her sisters and
less the inn that she missed. Even that was changing now, with Gem
married and reproducing, and Brandy’s on-again-off-again
relationship. Xera wondered what the status was on that now. She
supposed it didn’t really matter; her sisters’ world was closed to
her. It was just that she missed her siblings, wondered how they
were.

It didn’t help that she didn’t really feel
accepted by Ryven’s family. Oh, it had started off well enough, but
things were hardly ideal. The Lord Governor welcomed her, but he
just wanted a wife for his son. Tessla was determined to mold Xera
into her idea of a lady, because that’s what clan matriarchs did.
Namae was all right, but Ryven’s other sisters and wider family
made her feel excluded. They were polite, but they had nothing in
common with Xera. She had seen a faint look of horror on one lady’s
face when she said how much she enjoyed martial arts, and another
woman had looked at her as if pained and begun another topic when
Xera mentioned how she used to help toss the drunks out of the
taproom. They didn’t say anything negative to her face, but she’d
seen her sisters-in-law exchange speaking looks. They never said
anything hurtful, but they never warmed up, either. Their husbands
studied Xera as if they didn’t know what to make of her. Everywhere
she went she got second glances. She was different. Alien.

Ruthlessly she shook off the melancholy.
Perhaps it was time to assess what her strengths and skills were,
maybe do a little research into Scorpio business practices. It
might even be worth her while to take a class or two. It would give
her something to do.

She mentioned as much to Ryven in an
electronic letter.

No,
was his one word reply.

She stared in disbelief at the terse message.
What did he mean,
no?
She wrote in response,
I hope you
didn’t mean to sound rude, boy. I’m giving you the benefit of the
doubt, though I admit I’m rather annoyed.
After some thought,
she deleted
boy
and put in
Atarus.
She went on,
I
think I would make a great business owner, and it would keep me
occupied while you are away on long trips. You’d rather have me
busy than moping about after you, wouldn’t you?
She thought
about adding more, but decided there was no need to rant.

His reply arrived twenty minutes after she
sent her message. It read,
You’re bored. I will give you
something to do.

She huffed. Bored? What was he planning to
do, have her knit socks? She wasn’t the type of woman who enjoyed
sitting at home doing handicrafts. She was itching to be
productive. She’d worked herself into a fine state, in fact, when
the door chime sounded. Still scowling, she went to answer.

Lady Tessla looked amused. “I see the bridal
days are over. Ready to take the mantle of a real wife, are
you?”

Nonplussed, Xera stepped aside as the lady
swept into the room. “I’m frankly grateful you’re the industrious
sort. Try as I might, I could not coax my nieces to assume the role
of family hostess. Coercion didn’t work any better on them than it
did on my daughters. Spoiled, really. Too used to their amusements
and projects. Well.” She looked Xera over with almost avaricious
glee. “And here you are, bored, trained to run a staff and host
entertainments, with nothing else to do.”

Xera coughed on her astonished amusement.
“Ryven contacted you, didn’t he?”

The lady raised a brow. “If a two sentence
note counts as contact. ‘My wife is bored. She’d make a great
hostess, wouldn’t she?’ But naturally, he had to say no more.”

“I see,” Xera said. Sort of. Still, Tessla’s
enthusiasm was contagious. Perhaps this is what she needed. “What
did you have in mind?”

What the woman had in mind turned out to be
exhausting. She was giving a little party for three hundred close
family members and friends. Everything from the selection of music
for the dance, dining arrangements and menu planning would have to
be arranged. Xera would be required to meet with the head chef,
decorators, musicians and florists and help plan the menu. In
addition to that, she was to greet the guests at the door with
Ryven, who would be standing in for his father as was customary at
these functions. Tessla declared it would now be her privilege to
join her brother, whom she said had been allowed to enjoy himself
alone for far too long.