Temperance (25 page)

“I don’t understand you. You don’t seem cruel, but…why bring me here? Why take me away from my sisters?”
 

Having been alone for so many years save the presence of his men, Kai would’ve thought he’d lost the ability to feel guilt or compassion. But as he looked down into her troubled face, he found himself fighting off both of those emotions.
 

His reasons for having brought her to Claremont were selfish ones he’d tried to disguise with nobility, and instead of answering, he merely said, “Marcus will show you to your chambers, where you can clean up. I will see you after for a meal.”

Then he turned on his heel and made his way up to the second-floor landing, where he watched the strange woman from another world become acquainted with his own.

Ry’Ker climbed the stairs that were attached to the kitchen and stopped outside the room Li’Am had placed the women in. It was a large, open space that stretched the expanse of the kitchen and had several cots lining the walls. It was usually reserved for the handmaidens, but ever since Seraphine had come into rule and the women had left the castle, it had sat empty—until now.

“Are they awake?” he asked the guard posted by the door.
 

The man looked him in the eye and gave a quick nod. “I believe so. They haven’t made much noise, but I thought I heard them stir earlier.”

Ry’Ker rapped his knuckles on the wood and waited several seconds before turning the handle and stepping inside. His eyes scanned the room before he spotted Fiona standing at the foot of one of the cots in the far back corner.
 

Without a word, he made his way towards them and watched the way she tracked him across the room. She was smart. He’d thought so the first time they’d spoken. And as she continued to monitor his movements, he knew there was more going on behind that watchful stare than she would ever say.

“I trust you slept well?”

Her facial expression didn’t change as she answered, “One of our sisters has been kidnapped. The other is lying here unconscious. So no, we didn’t sleep well.”

So much for trying the friendly route.

He let his eyes move to the head of the cot, where the dark-haired woman was sitting on a stool by her sister’s sleeping form.

“There’s no change, then, I see.”

Fiona turned away from him and muttered, “Keen observation.”

“We have a healer coming to see her. He’ll tell us more,” he said.
 

She turned skeptical eyes on him. “A healer? Like a doctor? Do you even know what’s wrong with her? What are these markings on her face and body?”

“There are more since yesterday?” he asked as he began walking over to the bed.
 

Before he got even two steps forward, Fiona shifted from the end of the cot and tilted her chin up to face him. “Don’t come any closer. Not unless it’s to help.” She paused and blinked, her deep-brown eyes refusing to look from him as she said again, more resolutely this time, “We need your help.”

The change in subjects threw him for a second, and when he looked down into that upturned face, he saw a hint of nerves enter her eyes.
What is she up to?

“Is that so?”

She licked her top lip and swallowed before taking in a deep breath. “Yes.”

Trying to work out her angle, Ry’Ker remained silent, waiting for whatever else she had to say.

“I realize…”

When she stopped, he prodded, “Yes?”

After seeming to gather her courage, she started again. “I realize we got off on the wrong foot, but you seem like a levelheaded man.” She looked over his shoulder—to the shut door, he presumed—and he wondered if she was checking to see if they were alone or if she could possibly escape. “Isn’t there anything I could offer…you know, to make you want to help us?”

Surely she isn’t—

“I’ll do whatever you want,” she promised in a lowered voice only he could hear. Then she raised a hand as if to touch him.

Like an arrow had pierced his flesh, he flinched and sucked in a breath before saying coldly, “Don’t.”

As if he’d slapped her, her mouth pulled taut and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and rage.

“Don’t touch me. Not
ever
. Do I make myself clear?”

Staggering backwards towards her seated sister, she spat at him, “Crystal.”

He let his eyes move over the three women one more time. Then he spun on his heel and stormed to the door. He yanked it open, but before he left, he said, “The healer will be by presently. Don’t try anything, Fiona Brannigan. I’ll be watching.”

Then he walked out the door.

* * *

Naeve stood in the open door of the room she’d been led to and took in all she could see.

On the far side of the space was a square window with wooden shutters. Kai’s man had walked in and pushed them open to let in what little light was shining, and off to the side wall was a mammoth-sized bed with thick, wooden bedposts that twisted up to a frame that held a canopy of dark, heavy material. Opposite the bed was a fireplace the silent man had also walked over to and lit. Once that was taken care of, he moved back towards her.

“There’s a jug with water on the mantel over there and some starlight herb for bathing. The basin is on the dresser on the far wall.”

She clasped her hands and nervously twisted them. She thought she’d heard Kai call him Marcus, and as he brushed by and looked down, she realized it was the same man from earlier, when they were outside. But this time, he wasn’t wearing anything over his face.

“Marcus?”

He stopped where he was and seemed shocked to have heard his name, but he said nothing.

“Whose room was this? It’s very feminine to belong to a man who told me he hasn’t been around females in years.”

Marcus looked over his shoulder and back into the room. Just when Naeve thought he wouldn’t answer, she heard him say, “The late Mistress of Claremont.”

Naeve wrapped one arm around her waist and brought the other to her chest, which felt…hot all of a sudden. When the word ‘mistress’ had come out of Marcus’s mouth, an irrational burst of anger—no…
jealousy
—had swept over her.

“Mistress?” she asked. “As in Kai’s wife?”

Marcus’s lips tightened, and she thought he seemed annoyed by the question—or perhaps annoyed that he’d answered her in the first place. He didn’t say another word as he walked to the door.
 

But before he could escape, Naeve made sure to tell him, “Thank you.”

He stopped with his back to her, and his stiff, wide shoulders relaxed slightly as he murmured a quick, “You’re welcome,” before he left.

* * *
 

Kai stood in his chambers and removed his clothing as he thought about the woman one floor below.
Naeve…
Liking it, he tried it out loud again.

“Naeve.”

Then he stripped out of his leather jerkin and undercoat and made his way to the washbasin, where he pulled the tie from his hair and pushed the strands behind his ears. Reaching for the draws on his pants, he loosened them and thought of the blond-haired, blue-eyed woman he’d brought back with him, questioning his reasoning once more.

After their run-in with Seraphine, he had become more than aware that something had changed with Naeve. When they’d first met, she’d possessed a timidity about her, even as she’d bravely faced him. But now? Now, she was giving in to irrational fits of anger. Ones that caused her to lash out without thought of consequence. Something she had not done so spiritedly until
after
Seraphine had implanted the key within her.
 

What had the Empress said? “
This won’t kill them. But it will make their hearts and souls as black as mine.”

He pushed his leathers down and stepped out of his pants. Kicking them across the floor, he cursed at the cool stone under his feet as he thought about the reasons why he’d brought Naeve back to Claremont.
 

The first he’d convinced himself was a purely noble one; no one but he had been there to witness Seraphine when she’d put the key in place, and he wanted to watch over Naeve, make sure she was okay…and there was nothing wrong with that.

If that were the only reason.
But it wasn’t, and he knew it.
 

The other reason he begrudgingly admitted was… He looked down at his stiff cock and placed a hand over it—yeah, it was that.

While there was nothing wrong with a healthy reaction to a woman, there was something wrong with wanting a woman who despised you. Plus, how did he know that the only reason he was reacting at all was because he knew he could touch her?

Seraphine’s curse had hit when he had been a mere boy transitioning to manhood. He’d barely had a chance to put his cock inside anyone, and then he’d been made aware that doing so would kill him as quickly as the toxins of the most deadly poisons. That was enough to make any boy or man lose the desire to lie with a woman ever again.

But not this one.
 

As he looked down at his hard length and gripped the root of it, he was more than aware that he’d never wanted something quite so much as the chance to slide inside Naeve.

Removing his hand, he reached for the jug and thanked the Gods that the water surrounding L’Mere and Claremont was still untainted enough to bathe in. It wouldn’t be long, though, until there was nowhere but the Gorge to trek to for their supplies.

It too had remained untouched from Seraphine’s curse, and he also believed it held the key to curing their land. Once the water supply was healed, the life that required it as nourishment would once again rejuvenate. He just didn’t know how.

The Palace of Ascension and the Tower that sat atop the Twelve Lakes had been locked since the day of the Ascension all those years ago. He remembered standing in the crowd that day with Ry’Ker, watching as the Hierophant crowned the Empress and named the Emperor, whom it turned out had been Lach’Lan—his late father’s second-in-command.

Then…everything had changed.

Closing his eyes, Kai cupped his hands together, dipped them into the basin of water, and lowered his head down to splash his face.
Gods that’s cold.
But it was what he needed to snap him out of his reminiscing. He didn’t need to be standing around, remembering the way his mother had looked that day, dressed in her best for the Ascension Ceremony—but now, he couldn’t seem to stop.

Pink, he remembered. She had been wearing the softest gown of pink, and her dark hair had been braided and threaded with tiny little flowers to match.
 

She’d made him and Ry’Ker go out looking for the flowers that morning before the ceremony took place. Although they’d both grumbled and told her that that was not what little boys did, she’d reminded them that it
was
what little boys who wanted to grow into dashing young men did. That way, they would know how to woo a lady—when the time came, of course.

Pushing aside the memory, he picked up the basin and brought it over to the copper tub to stand in so he could wash and rinse his hair. It had been days since he’d felt clean, and he had to admit that Naeve was right—he did smell like a horse.

Once he was fully bathed, he stepped out, and toweled off. Dressed as well as he was going to be, he pushed his damp hair behind his ears, walked to the door, and made his way downstairs to eat a meal with his new houseguest.

* * *
 

Seraphine staggered to her feet and pressed a palm to her forehead.
 

It had been nearly two days since she’d summoned the women to Arcania and implanted the first two keys. She hadn’t realized it would take days to regenerate after such a feat—but clearly, the spells had taken their tolls.

She blinked into the darkness of the room, her vision blurry as she reached out with her mind, searching for a specific link. It was one that was usually much easier for her to find, but today, it seemed to be eluding her.

There you are,
she thought, and the minute she had a hold on Li’Am’s mind, she knew it.
 

He was such a fighter—always had been.

My, my, brother. You have been busy. Did you really think I wouldn’t work out a way around your new little barrier?

Without missing a beat, his steady voice echoed back through her subconscious and found her.
But it took days, didn’t it? And you still can’t penetrate it—not fully, can you?

Seraphine tried to reach out to touch his mind, and when it couldn’t be done, she heard a smug sound through the link. It was the first time she’d been unable to physically touch him. Hating to ever fail, Seraphine scowled and clenched her fists, feeling the biting sting of pain in her palms.

You have been busy. I’ll give you that. How long did it take, Li’Am? Days, months, years to hone that particular skill?

Years…

She heard a cunning tone creep into his voice and decided right then that he would pay for his betrayal.
Years? Years spent poking and prodding your son for your own gain. Not very fatherly of you, is it, Li’Am?