The Twelve Kingdoms (25 page)

“What does it mean?” I croaked, my throat torn apart by the ugly, grating sobs.

“Mostly nonsense,” he answered softly. “About the songbirds in their nests and the mother cat who nuzzles her kitten. That we are safe and warm from the winter winds. That all will be well and the sun will rise again.”

“Beautiful, though.”

“As are you, my fearless hawk. As are you.”

I wiped my face, not knowing what to say. Embarrassed at how I'd behaved. Uncertain of how to explain. “I hate that this happened,” I finally whispered.

“I know.” He kissed my hair.

I took a deep breath that shuddered only a little. “I want to apologi—”

The sudden tightening of his arms stopped my words. “Don't.” He sounded suddenly, brutally angry. “Don't you dare apologize for this, Ursula.”

I stayed silent awhile, his anger palpable in the ripple of his muscles. Yet he continued to hold me with what could only be called tenderness, protecting and comforting me both.

“It was him, wasn't it?”

The question didn't surprise me. Nor that we both knew who he meant. Inexpressibly weary, I leaned into Harlan, relieved at least that he hadn't made me say it out loud.

“It's so hard to explain so that you'll understand.”

“What's to understand about a father raping his daughter?” His voice cut like a blade, implacable, slicing open the gray areas.

“It wasn't rape.”

“Don't give me that. How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

He cursed, viciously, that Dasnarian one he reserved for the greatest extremity. “How can you not call that rape? You were a child still.”

“I had my woman's courses and breasts.” I hadn't been a child for years by then. “The management of Ordnung had fallen to me and I'd handled it. He'd made me his heir that day, given me the Circlet. I was not a child, but fit to hold the High Throne. Do you know how huge that was for me?”

“I can guess.”

“When the King explained . . . When he—” I tripped on the words. Bore down. “It made sense.”

“How?” Harlan growled the word, meaner than I'd ever heard him sound. “How did it make sense?”

“My mother was gone. Uorsin needed a queen. A male heir. If I'd been a boy, I might have been perfect. My blood, his blood—if he could get a boy on me, then together we'd hold the High Throne.”

“And you believed this.”

“He's the High King.” Always I'd had faith in that. “He is above the law that governs everyone else. I've always understood that.”

“How many times?”

I didn't have to ask what he meant, though my throat went dry around the answer. “Once. Just the once. It wasn't rape, because I agreed.”

“He hurt you.”

“I didn't know what to do. It didn't hurt that much.” But it had made me feel ill and awful, bent over his desk while he lifted my coronation gown and thrust himself into me. The tearing stretch while I tried to pretend it was another training exercise, praying to Danu that I wouldn't cry.
Don't cry. Don't let him see your tears.

My face grew wet, though I hadn't realized I'd started crying again. Going to wipe them away, I discovered the tears weren't mine this time. Astonished, I followed the trail up, seeing Harlan's face contorted with sorrow as he wept for me.

“Oh, Harlan, no. Please.” I wiped the tears from his cheeks and he turned his face to bury his lips in my palm. “It's all right. Don't cry for my sake.”

“Someone should,” he responded roughly, pulling me harder against him. “I'm going to kill him for this.”

“Don't say that.” My chest froze in fear, in dread.

“He should die for this crime.”

“No. That's not for me to judge.”
You'll know when the time comes.

“Even though Queen Andromeda believes he may have killed your mother?”

“I don't know. Maybe even then.”

“Who do you think should hold him accountable—tell me that much.”

“Nobody! The High King is above the law. Besides, I agreed to—”

“Stop saying that.” His hands tightened on my arms and he pulled back to look in my face. His was ravaged with emotion, reflecting all those feelings I'd poured out against his skin. “You were a child, in his power as both his daughter and his subject. He abused you in the worst possible way. An abomination against all that he should have been to you. Why else do you think it hurt you so? Poisoned you all these years.”

“Because I failed him. I didn't have the courage.” The way his seed had trickled down my thighs, soaking into my underskirts as I walked back to my rooms, sore, bleeding mostly on the inside. “And I—I thwarted him.”

“How do you mean?”

“I didn't get pregnant, first off. Then I wouldn't do it again.”

“Did he try?” Harlan's voice was measured, even. Didn't fool me for a moment.

“Not really.” I still amazed myself, feeling both triumphant and terrible about it. “I told him I'd cut his cock off. He believed me.”

Harlan laughed, kind of. A broken sound. “No wonder you carry so many blades on you.”

“I don't know if I could have done it. I would have, I think, if he'd tried anything with Ami or Andi. Not that I ever let them be alone with him.”

“Always protecting everyone else.”

I shrugged. I couldn't bear the thought of them going through that. I'd paced the floors all night following Ami's wedding, worrying that she'd be like me, that she'd suffer that way. It had been even worse when I heard I was too late to stop Andi's wedding to Rayfe. At least Ami had chosen hers.

“You never told them. Never told anyone.”

“No.” My hidden shame. “I didn't want anyone to know, though I think some people guessed. Then he was so angry that his seed didn't take. No matter how I tried to make it up to him, he's never forgiven me for that.”

H
arlan's body hardened, the anger rippling through again. “The ones who guessed, none of them stood up for you?”

“You've been to Ordnung. No one defies Uorsin. Not for long. And no real harm was done.”

“I want you to promise me something, Ursula.”

Wary, I levered myself away from him, scrutinizing his face, now set in hard lines. “I'm listening.” But promising nothing yet.

“Never excuse it like that again.”

Not what I'd expected. “I'm just explaining that—”

“No.” He interrupted explosively, holding my head in his big hands and forcing me to look into his eyes. “Never. The crime was committed against you. Being who you are, my fearless hawk”—his grip softened and he stroked his thumbs over my cheekbones, massaging into the tight muscles of my jaw—“you put a stop to it happening again. But you never healed.”

“I used to think I was broken,” I whispered, surprised I wanted to tell him this part. “When the other women talked about it being pleasurable and I'd hated it. Hated it so, so much . . .”

He kissed me when I trailed off, with exquisite tenderness, dropping his hands to run over my naked back and shoulders. Not sexual, soothing. All this time I'd been sitting there bare breasted, without being aware of it.

“I thought maybe Andi and Ami would be the same. That we'd all somehow inherited this from our mother. That we were flawed somehow. Then I've seen how they are. That they're happy.”

“You're not flawed, Ursula.”

I let my breath flow in and out. Let the susurrus of his touch infuse me. “Maybe you're right. I liked this. It felt good, up until . . . the one part.”

“I'm sorry I pushed you.”

“Don't be. It makes me think that maybe I'm not broken, after all. That I could have that, too, someday.”

“You are not broken,” he murmured, dropping light kisses, like butterfly wings, over my face. “You are perfect and beautiful. You hated what happened because it was a violation. The opposite of what making love should be.”

My breath shuddered out.
A violation.
Yes, it had felt like that. Not the lovely, sparking warmth of Harlan's touch. “I can't think about it anymore tonight.”

“Then don't.” He kissed me on the forehead, holding it, a lingering caress. “We'll go back to the tent, get some sleep.”

“It's late,” I agreed. Though I knew I'd never sleep. “But I want to do something for you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I've been around men and I hear the talk. I know it's . . . difficult for them. When they get close to having sex and stop.” Difficult was putting it mildly, the way some of them went on about it.

“Believe me, Ursula,” he said, sounding torn between amusement and annoyance, “my physical satisfaction is about the last thing on my mind right now. I'm not laying a finger on you again tonight. Not as raw as you are.”

Maybe not ever. The words went unsaid, but I heard them clearly. I might not have been broken before, but what happened had resulted in damage. As if I'd lost some vital limb to an injury turned gangrenous.

“I can just imagine.” The bitterness in my voice surprised me. “It can't be very pleasant to have your lover become hysterical when you touch her. I want you to know that I understand.”

He made an impatient sound, grasped me by the hips and turned me so I straddled his waist. “Understand what?”

I did feel raw. Impossibly on the verge of tears again, though I shouldn't have had any left. To stall, I ran my hands over his chest, the muscled ridges of his shoulders. “I wish I could be like Jepp,” I said, surprising myself at the words, at the deep regret that infused me. “I wish I could be that woman, that I could pleasure you and be joyful about it. That I could have taken you to my bed the first time you asked.”

“I'm not in love with Jepp. You're the woman I love, exactly as you are.”

“You wanted to please me. I know you did—you took your time about it and that worked. If I were whole, we would have been lovers long before this.”

“That doesn't matter to me.”

“It matters to me. I can give you pleasure in other ways. With mouth or hands—I've heard stories.”

“Ursula.” Harlan leaned his forehead against mine. “You're killing me.”

“Let me do this. Just consider me a green recruit is all.” Experimentally, I kissed his neck as he'd done to me, finding the pulse point under the hard line of his jaw and sucking at the thinner skin there, his blood leaping to pound under my mouth. He groaned, a deep rumble, hands convulsing on my hips. It gave me a heady sense of power, to feel him shudder now, for him to tip his head back, pliant and greedy for more.

“You don't have to—”

“Shut up, Captain,” I ordered, feeling stronger all the time. I raked my nails over his beefy shoulders and muscled chest, digging in and indulging as I'd wanted to since nearly the beginning. The bright firmament of Annfwn's stars lit him as clearly as the moon might. He said something soft in Dasnarian, closing his eyes. Remembering, I softened my caress, stroking his skin with my calloused fingers. “Is this how you imagined it?” I asked.

“Better,” he grated.

“What else went into this fantasy of yours?”

He cracked one eye open, surveying me. “This is pretty damn good as is.”

“Stop coddling me. I want to do this. What happens next?”

Wrapping his hands around my wrists, he held mine in place and lay back, drawing me with him. “You sat over me, like this. Ran your hands over me like you're doing.”

I complied, though it felt as much like indulging myself as pleasing him. His face had relaxed, though, softening into those sensual lines as he watched me through slitted eyes. He slid hands up my arms to cup my breasts, featherlight, careful. “Only you're more beautiful than I imagined. My naked warrior queen.”

The image made me laugh. “Only half-naked. Then what?” I knew the answer. His body provided it in the hard line of his upthrust cock beneath my bottom. Scooting back, I straddled his massive thighs and unlaced his trousers. “Did I do this?”

He released a slow breath, measured, maintaining composure in a way I recognized. “Yes.”

I'd seen men naked, of course. The battlefield leaves little room for modesty. Rarely, though, had I seen a man up close like this, and never in such a full state of arousal. Not surprising, Harlan's cock was as big as the rest of him, hard and full, straining against his belly. The starlight shimmered on the fine, fair hair at the base. He held very still, only the glint of his eyes showing how closely he watched me.

I closed my fingers around his shaft, much like taking the hilt of a sword in my hand. A living sword that leapt to life at my grip, throbbing, heated. “Like this?” I asked him, just to see him struggle to answer. I slid my hand up, then down again, letting the calloused tips of my fingers drag over the soft, tender head.

He convulsed, arching his back. “
Luta
, Ursula!”

“Am I doing it right?” I teased, slowing.

“You know you are,” he panted, hips pressing down, hands on my thighs, digging in as if to hold me there.

“I think you're
my
prisoner now.” I worked him, speeding and slowing, testing to see what got to him the most.

“I'm at your mercy,” he agreed. “A happy captive to do with as you will.”

“Good.” To my surprise, my voice came out in a warm, satisfied purr. “I hope my hands aren't too cold now?”

He grunted a nonanswer.

“Because, if they are . . .” I bent over and closed my mouth over the head of his cock. He made a most satisfying strangled sound of helpless pleasure. Enjoying the velvet-soft texture of him there, I swirled my tongue around, tasting the brine of the seed that leaked from him, salty-sweet, like the seas off Elcinea. His hands clutched at my thighs with greater urgency, so I lifted my head to see his face, smiled at his near-desperate expression. “Am I doing it wrong? I am not skilled, I know.”

“Any more skilled,” he ground out, “and I would be a dead man. You'll want to back off.”

“No. I want to finish you. Make you spill your seed.” I paused, slightly uncertain. Gossip was one thing, reality another. “It's the culmination, yes? The most pleasurable part. There's not a reason you don't want it?”

“Gods no, my ferocious hawk. I want it. It's just polite to—” He broke off and threw back his head when I clasped him in my mouth again. Now that I knew for sure the technique I'd heard of worked, I licked and sucked the tip, using both hands to grip his shaft, judging my success by the way he thrashed and groaned under my hands.

He tensed and, with an incoherent shout, bowed up under me, his seed filling my mouth and spilling out to slicken my hands as I slid them up and down his shaft, savoring the way he unraveled for me.

The pulses ran through him for some time after, slowing but not stopping. Not unlike cooling down after a fierce fight, so I stayed with him, stroking and occasionally licking, until he put his hands on my shoulders with a breathless laugh. “Stop now.” He urged me up and fitted me against his side, staring up at the sky and catching his breath as I pillowed my head on his shoulder.

It felt good and right, to lie there beside him, to have done the things normal lovers do. Like an oasis in the Aerron desert, restorative, refreshing.

“I've never seen stars like this,” Harlan murmured, sounding sleepy.

I looked, too. “It's the altitude.”

“I've been in the mountains in other places—the stars were never so bright. Or so colorful.”

He had a point. “Annfwn magic, I suppose. Though how it could affect the sky as well, I don't know.”

“Perhaps it's enough to know that it does.” He turned his head and kissed me on my brow. “Just as it's enough to be with you and hold you close. Don't ever feel you need to give me more than that.”

“I liked it,” I told him, reflecting on that amazing fact. “And, oddly, I feel better that you know . . . all of it.”

“Maybe you can begin to heal.”

I frowned. “I don't see why that would make a difference. Nothing has changed. The past is still the past.”

His arm pulled me closer as he chuckled, hand caressing my bare waist. Being skin to skin with him this way gave me a sated feeling, as if it fed something deep inside that I hadn't known was hungry. “Even with your practical mind you must understand that emotional wounds drain us of life as surely as physical ones. Don't your soldiers suffer from the deeds performed, the horrific sights they surely must encounter?”

“I suppose. But there's nothing to be done.”

“Not true. Part of the healing system our fighters learn addresses that also. Confiding in another, telling the tale, always helps.”

“Which is why you were so determined to make me tell you.” I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn't care for being manipulated.

A soft laugh rumbled in his chest. “You needn't sound so suspicious. I asked out of love, so I could know you.”

I had no response to that. Not the one he expected in return, at least. But he didn't seem to mind, simply stroked my skin with tenderness. With his strong arm around me, I felt safe. Cherished, even. Surprisingly, a wave of sleepiness washed through me, and my lids grew heavy. “I feel good with you,” I murmured.

“I'm glad, my hawk. May it always be so.”

Blinking my eyes at the rising sun, I couldn't determine why I felt so groggy. Too much wine? But I'd slept outdoors. With a rush, the night before flooded my mind and I sat up. Instantly awake and alert, Harlan sat up also, knife in his hand, keen gaze scanning the quiet glen.

“What?” His terse whisper told me all I'd ever need to know about him, that I could always count on him to be ready to fight with me.

“Sorry.” I gave him a chagrined smile and crossed my arms over my bare breasts. Away from his body heat, they'd tightened, my nipples going hard and sensitive in the cool dawn air. Not embarrassing exactly, but . . . inappropriate for the moment. “I didn't know where I was, I slept so hard. It startled me.”

He grinned and tugged at my wrists, baring me to his gaze and drawing me down again, so my stiff nipples rubbed against his chest, shivering pleasure through me. Another surprise. “You look so deliciously soft and rumpled. Let's stay like this forever.”

Surprisingly tempted, I returned his kisses, letting the dreamy warmth linger a bit longer. Then, with a groan, I pulled away firmly. “If only. They'll be looking for us. I can't believe I slept so long.”