Ruler's Concubine (16 page)

“I am happy for you. And I most certainly have faith.”

Ashtun nodded. “I’ll advise you as soon as I know anything further. Ruler, how is the royal concubine? My concubine and I look forward to meeting her. They know one another, from the ship.”

“Lady Celeste is … an extremely suitable royal concubine. You’ll be one of the first to meet her at the presentation. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see an old friend.”

Closing the connection, he thought to order a meal sent to his quarters, then changed his mind and decided to dine with Celeste and Bast. There were some bridges to be mended if those attending the upcoming event were to be convinced of her suitability. Bast could diligently prepare her, but the social discourse between Celeste and Lysett would be under scrutiny. He owed it to her to work on their familiarity with one another, or so he told himself.

After changing into more comfortable attire, he made his way to the dining area. The room was empty, and there was no sign of place settings. Frowning, he called for Vorst. The young serving male hastened to the room.

“Master?”

“Why is there no evening meal?”

“Yours was to be sent to your quarters, Sir. And Lady Celeste is dining with Bast in the garden.”

“I’ll join them.”

He made his way there, hearing his concubine’s quiet tones and light laughter in response to his first servant’s deeper voice long before he found them. A small table had been set up beyond the water feature and dressed with reams of fabric that streamed in the light breeze. Torches were strategically placed to give light without detracting from the gentle ambiance.

The evening had cooled the space to a comfortable level, and Celeste wore a gown similar to the one he’d removed so expeditiously the night before, but in shimmering shades of green. Her hair was still tied high on her head and the nape of her long, slender neck looked vulnerable. He craved to press his lips there and his lower body stirred in agreement.

“Sir.” Bast shoved to his feet and stared. Celeste inched around in her chair and gave him a cool smile. If she was surprised, she hid it admirably, and Lysett understood the concern his first servant had voiced earlier. Did he really want this cool, distant female, a mere political partner? He struggled with the answer.

Vorst hurried past with dishes and utensils, a napkin trailing in his wake. He saved Lysett the necessity of explaining why he was there, so he chose a chair and sat to Celeste’s right.

“I’ll return with additional food.” Vorst rushed away and Bast stared after him.

“How nice of you to join us.” There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in Celeste’s voice or any on her face. She poured him a glass of ale and offered a plate of some form of starters, primarily vegetables. He filled a small dish without comment and wished he had eaten in his quarters after all.
Coward.

“I was explaining the presentation,” Bast said.

“So you’re aware all the Houses will attend. As well as a certain number from the public.” Lysett tried to look into Celeste’s beautiful eyes but was met with a blank wall.

She sipped at her juice and nodded. “As Bast said.”

“You and I will present a united front and set the example.”

“And what example is that?” Her words reflected simple curiosity and her limpid gaze nothing but interest, but he intuited something else hidden there.

“It’s imperative that the dissenters, the purists, not receive any fodder to build their platform on. Unless we determine who they are and their plans, beforehand. Regardless, the populace must be convinced this plan is for the future of Meridia.”

“Your emissions over the last months have been effective, Sir.” Bast sounded reassuring and positive.

“So I understand, but there is nothing like seeing for oneself.”

“Bast has explained how I must comport myself,” Celeste offered.

“And how is that?” he asked her.

“With dignity and a certain aloofness, yet with a general appeal. I confess it sounds like a difficult task, but I’ll do my best.”

“You should be yourself.” He spoke brusquely and both Bast and Celeste visibly leaned away from him. “You don’t strike me as the aloof type, Celeste, and it will come across as counterfeit. Be yourself.”

“I’m not sure what that even means anymore.” She spoke so quietly he barely heard her, especially with the burbling water in the background.

“Excuse me?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, Ruler. I won’t disappoint you.”

“You can count on me to lead you, Celeste. Those attending will be convinced.”

She studied him for a long moment, and he tried to read her, grasping at the flash of naked emotion she so quickly veiled. “I won’t disappoint,” she repeated, and reached for a bite on her plate, throwing up that wall between them.

He and Bast next spoke of the hunt for the dissenters, in the most general of terms, not wishing to alarm Celeste, though the danger was real. His first servant rose to the occasion as always, and he thought his concubine was deferring to their conversation when she spoke.

“I understand the thought is to kill us and remove any chance of Earth DNA from polluting the Meridian gene pool.”

His appetite gone, Lysett turned to her. “That won’t happen. It’s a small contingent and far too many of our politicos and a number of our warriors have found their chosen ones. Matches have been made and it’s highly unlikely the males will allow anything to happen to their concubines.”

“The matches have been that successful.”

“Indeed, they have. I had no idea Meridia’s males could wax so poetic, touting their concubine's attributes. In a respectful manner,” he hurriedly added.

In fact, he’d been inundated with positive regard for the process, and Ashtun’s happiness was a reflection of many of the matches. The concubines were treasured and above price. As his thoughts warred with his own reticence and reserve toward Celeste, she stood, carefully stepping away from the table.

“Please excuse me. I find I’m tired. I’m not used to working long hours in the garden after such a hiatus, and my visit with Shirley wore me out.” She smiled in his general direction and touched a hand to Bast’s forearm, a mere graze that made Lysett set his teeth for no reason he could discern.

Both he and his first servant clambered to their feet as she moved gracefully toward the house. Morat fell in behind her and Lysett quelled the instinct to escort her himself.

“I don’t care for the idea that she is fearful for her safety. I won’t allow anything to happen to her,” he told Bast.

“She didn’t seek her room because of fear, Master.” Bast waited for him to sit before taking his own seat and taking up a fork.

“Then why?” He noted her nearly full plate and glass, making a mental note to have something sent to her quarters. It wouldn’t do for her not to eat properly, especially as she could already be breeding.

“I suspect the talk of successful matches contrasted with the political connection you yourself have made with Lady Celeste, and she finds herself lacking. But she has resigned herself and I doubt you’ll ever hear her complain.” Bast’s words were delivered in a quiet, factual manner, but the reproach was detectable.

“You test me, Bast. I would have thought that you, of anyone, would understand that my heart’s loyalty is to Lady Trosan. To her memory.”

The other male closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Lysett watched the other man’s throat work as he swallowed and braced himself for another unpalatable insight. He wondered that he allowed Bast such liberties, but said nothing to dissuade him.

Finally, his first servant said, “I grieve her loss as you do, Ruler. She was the perfect political partner, your astute equal on that front, and a dear friend. Her sacrifice will never be forgotten or go unnoticed. But she would have wanted you to move forward and live your life. And if that includes an arrangement to bring you joy, I’m certain she would have wanted that too.”

Bast’s heartfelt words washed over him like a salve in the flickering light of the torches and gave him pause. He wondered if he was being fair to Celeste, recalling her wish to refuse him and his response to that desire. Perhaps she would have found another match and the male would have made her happy in it. He didn’t think he had it within him to complete that particular task, but he couldn’t let her go. Selfish, but for the right reasons. Definitely, the right reasons. He would think on them and collate them in a minute. In any event, it was too late. The joining had taken place—at her request—and she might even now be with child. She was stuck with him.
So why not call in the healer?

Ignoring the question, he formulated a plan. He’d make an effort to spend more time with her and set aside his ambivalent feelings. It wasn’t her fault that Celeste followed in the footsteps of a wonderful female. He hadn’t given her the chance to actually live up to her reputation, and show herself outside of their physical compatibility. He would make that effort and perhaps a friendship would develop past the physicality. He’d appreciated and respected her before they even met, and after all, they would be raising children together.

“Thank you for your insight, Bast. And that is the last you are to speak of such things.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Chapter Ten

“There are too many choices,” Celeste protested.

Ellyce smiled widely and tugged yet another gown from the rack. “Try this one. It has a thread running throughout that matches your eyes. You concubines display such variety with your hair and especially eye color. The difference in our pupils aside, it’s such a pleasure to see the diversity. There are a few with green eyes, but so many with brown ones and blue. Even some gray and what I understand is … hazel?”

“Hazel. That’s right. That eye color changes with mood or with what a person is wearing.” She struggled into the gown, and nearly staggered beneath its weight. “This is too heavy. Too encrusted with those shiny layers.”

“The shiny layers are precious gems, daughter.”

Celeste froze in the act of letting the dress slip off her shoulders to the floor. “Holy cow. Sorry. I—” She didn’t know if her reaction was because of the implied value of the garment or because the Ruler’s mother had called her
daughter
.

Laughing, Ellyce grasped the garment and handed her another, this one in a warm shade of brown with silver shot through it. “See if you like this one. And don’t worry about the cost. Lysett is wealthy, although he doesn’t flaunt it. His concubine will dress tastefully and well.”

“You called me daughter.” She didn’t want to think about how the Ruler dressed his concubines.

“Are you offended? I know your own mother is passed, and I thought…”

“Not offended. But I’m only your son’s concubine. I’m not… I don’t…” She cast about for the right words. “I’m not like Lady Trosan.”

Ellyce studied her, her face solemn and eyes thoughtful. “Ah, so he’s told you of her. Good. You should know. They were so very close as children and aspired to the same things politically. It was no surprise when they matched, despite the worry and implications for Trosan. Our scientists and then the medicos did their best but it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You well know what it’s like, Celeste, to lose someone. Many someones. Lysett has told us this. Not everything, because that is for you to share. But he is in awe of your personal strength and abilities, your attributes.”

So impressed he figured I’d be a good stand in for Trosan, until he actually met me, face to face.
Keeping her features from reflecting any of her thoughts, she let Ellyce fasten the brown dress. Brown was probably the best color. Staid and proper, nothing flashy to detract from the seriousness of her role.

Lysett had put in an appearance at breakfast, inquiring as to her health, whether she’d slept well, and chatted desultorily until he headed out to his other office. The one she hadn’t seen because she couldn’t leave the house. She figured she was well aware of her role.

After his comments last night about so many of the other matches—arrangements—going well, she’d found she couldn’t keep up appearances, and fled. Though Lord knew she needed to practice in the face of what she’d be seeing at the presentation event. No one could know how miserable she was because likely no one would be able to grasp it. There would be any number of women who’d have traded places with her in a heartbeat so she really had to make it work. She didn’t want anyone’s censure—or pity. Although they’d likely pity Lysett.

Maybe if she let that secret part of her come forth at the presentation, the one that strained toward the surface whenever she thought about him, let alone was in his presence, then others would think they were as special a couple. For sure they’d see an entranced young woman in lust with their Ruler, a silly girl willing to fall at his feet. But she had her pride, so banished the idea before it grew roots, and resolved to find some other way.

“If you wish, you can call me Mother, instead of Lady Ellyce.”

The offer sucked the breath out of her and Ellyce took advantage to tighten the gown further. “Uh, that’s a really nice thing to say.”

“I already feel a closeness to you. We will have many, many years together as a family.”

“I like you, too.” And she did, despite knowing calling Ellyce ‘Mother’ wasn’t even close to appropriate. Lysett would choke. She wished the woman knew the parameters her son had set on their arrangement, because if she did, these awkward discussions would surely not take place. The thought of all those years together as a family… Pretending…

“Might you be with child?” The older woman looked uncomfortable asking, but her eyes glinted with hope.

“I don’t know yet. I hope so.” And she did because then she had a year or better to figure out how to get through another physical encounter with that man without losing herself. And have a sweet baby to cuddle and love, maybe love her back.

“Oh, I hope so, too. The thought of Meridia blessed with children makes my heart sing. I’ve heard musings that other concubines have conceived, despite the short period of time since they arrived. And the joy that permeates Meridia already... One can actually
feel
the ambiance.” Ellyce finished tightening the lacings and urged her to face the mirror.

The young woman staring back sported pale cheeks and shining eyes. Celeste knew both were a result of hearing how happy so many of the other concubines and their men were, mocking her own lack of
joy
. Ellyce didn’t know she’d shoved a verbal knife into Celeste’s gut.

She blinked away the tears and reconsidered her reflection, straining for composure. No staid matron looked back. The rich, warm, earthy color suited her and the fit subtly enhanced her curves, especially the slope of her breasts. When she moved, the silver threads separated ever so slightly and hinted at creamy flesh beneath. One could almost believe she fit the bill.

The other woman winked at her conspiratorially and nodded. “Stunning. We’ll leave your hair down for the most part but braid it here … and here, to show off the shape and color of your eyes.”

“You don’t think it’s too much for such an important event?” Maybe she could impress the others by hiding behind the look.

“You’ll appear every inch an exotic royal concubine. As different from Trosan as can be imagined, which is Lysett’s plan, I believe.”

Her belly clenched and she swallowed rusty-tasting saliva, the beauty of the gown and the way it brought out the best in her thoroughly spoiled. He’d said for her to be herself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t her. He should make up his mind. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’d like something plainer. More me.”

Obviously flustered, Ellyce drew her brows together. “But you look lovely.”

“I don’t look like
me
, Lady Ellyce.” Her failure to use the more intimate term was noted, and the other woman’s face fell. Celeste felt cruel and it made her even more despondent, but she couldn’t let herself get sucked in any deeper.

“I’ve upset you somehow.” Ellyce wrung her hands.

Knowing her smile looked phony, she kept it pasted on her lips and impulsively hugged Ellyce, who, after a startled moment, hugged her back. “Everything has been overwhelming and moved so fast. I can’t… I can’t seem to find my feet, and this event is important. It’s all I can focus on right now.”

“Of course. I’m a selfish old woman, excited about babies and wanting you to call me a familiar, when this is so overwhelming for you. No, don’t protest. We’ll find you something more … you.”

****

The garden was fast becoming her sanctuary. The guards were ever present yet never intruded, and Bast was in tune with her moods. She was willing to rebuild their comfortable relationship as much as possible, and in turn, he never mentioned the Ruler, at least not in a personal context. She idly turned a spoon over and over before using it to scoop out a bite of fruit from its skin. She had her suitable gown for the presentation, a plain length of blue fabric sewn in severe, classic lines—nothing to make her stand out, yet conveying a quiet strength of classic elegance, she hoped.

She’d acquiesced to Lysett’s mother’s insistence that the shade at least match her eyes. Ellyce promised to assist with her hair and bring the jewelry she held in safekeeping for the Ruler’s concubine. Celeste didn’t want to accept anything to remind him of what—who—he’d lost but Ellyce told her she had an item in mind that had never been worn. Celeste wondered if the older woman was beginning to intuit that all was not so
joyful
on the home front, and cursed her inability to be more convincing. The way she excused herself to return to her own home and not stay for refreshments with Celeste spoke volumes.

“May I join you?” Bast hovered by the table.

“Sure.” She’d given up trying to emulate the Meridian’s stilted speech patterns, although it served to keep Lysett at a distance because he responded predictably. She’d never have gotten away from the table last night to lick her wounds if she hadn’t pled tiredness and whined like a weak-witted girl.

“I haven’t time to eat. I’m in between offices, but you looked lost in thought. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Maybe she should change that to ‘good’. A little variety in her faking it. “A little tired after the mad home shopping spree is all.”

“Lady Ellyce is a kind female and is delighted that you are part of the family.”

She wasn’t part of the family, but he could say so. “She’s really nice.”

“Do you have any questions about the upcoming presentation?”

“No.”

“Are you worried?”

“Worried? About messing it up? For sure. But all I can do is try to act the part. I won’t embarrass your master.” She’d hide someplace first.

“You couldn’t if you tried. He is lucky to have you.”

That surprised her, but she didn’t let it show, choosing another piece of fruit to cover her reaction. “You’ve done everything to describe it except draw me a picture, Bast. There will be a banquet and a few speeches—not that I have to say a word, thank goodness—and a bunch of introductions. I can smile and nod and clasp hands—briefly—and perhaps say a few things. But say nothing about their House or what they wear. Maybe comment on the weather. Right?”

“That sums it up, Lady. They are aware of your ability to lead and how you stirred the other females to mutiny on the ship. Such behavior is much admired, possibly because our females were once warriors. And of course, I’ve let it be known how kind you are, as well as your other attributes. They will, however, expect you to be circumspect and … regal. And they will watch to see if you and our Master … are connected.”

Inwardly rolling her eyes, Celeste took stock of her so-called attributes. What use were those here on Meridia, with the exception of her fertility? She had no other particular skills to be put to use. They might wonder why Lysett had chosen her, in that she was no beauty to draw the eye. She shuddered to think anyone other than the three of them knew he hadn’t laid eyes on her until the night he’d first thought to … breed her, and the resulting debacle.

“You are thinking dark thoughts.”

“No, not dark. Only ones colored with self-pity. I’m sick of myself.” It was okay to share that with a friend, right? She was spiraling again, and would find herself stuck if she didn’t smarten up.

“It is all right, Lady Celeste. You’re overwhelmed, understandably.”

Everyone kept saying that. No, she was caught in a trap of her own making and needed to find a way to make the best of it. “I need to get over myself. And I’d like you to call me Celeste when it’s just the two of us. Please.”

“I’ll try.” Bast gave her a bracing smile, but his eyes were clouded with concern.

She waved him to the door and settled in to pick through her meal and rehash how she might comport herself in front of all those other people. Morat shifted his weight, and the rustle of his tunic drew her attention. Celeste looked at his serious face and wished she could strike up a conversation with the guard, but he didn’t appear to like her any more than Lysett did, though treated her with the same distant respect.

He stared back impassively for a moment before scanning the area the way he usually did. Something in his face as he did so made her blink. Was that distaste? With an inner shrug, she poured another glass of water. Morat probably wanted to be off doing warrior things instead of babysitting a female, particularly when it was unlikely he’d have a concubine for himself.

Swirling the liquid around in the crystal-like container, Celeste wondered if there would be more Earth women willing to leave their planet and join with Meridian males. Especially if they were confronted with the happy unions being touted. She hoped she didn’t have to be an emissary because she couldn’t think of a less convincing one.

With a sigh, she set her lips in a faint smile—there was no time like the present to practice looking aloof yet happy—and pushed up from the table.

“I hoped I’d be back in time to share the meal with you.”

Shocked, she sat back down with an inelegant slump, and swallowed her heart into its proper position in her chest. Lysett regarded her from only a few feet away.

“I’m finished, actually.”

“Perhaps you’ll take … tea, while I eat.”

Nodding, she waited as he ordered the beverage and added his own food requests. Surreptitiously, she scanned his tall, lithe frame, and quelled the frisson sparking in her belly. She supposed it was a positive thing that her body desired him and only wished she might keep the rest of her separate. A one-sided emotional connection would spell heartbreak.