Trusted (24 page)

Xan was taking the child away from its nanny when she entered the room laughing at them.

“Have you never any other tasks to occupy you?” she asked as she came and took her turn cooing at the child.

“None more important at the moment,” Xan said with a grin.

“True,” Sarea said, “very little can be deemed more important than our little Ulrica. Rica is paramount to many things. Yes you are,” she said to the child whose wrinkled little expression changed into what almost looked like a smile. “I think she smiled at me! You see, she understands me perfectly,” Sarea said. “May she always understand just how important and loved she is.”

“May your lips bring that prayer to the Joyous One’s attention, my queen,” Xan said. He kissed the child on the forehead.

“I shall make a prayer of it every night for a shona. He is sure to hear it then,” she said. “Tell me, where is my husband?”

A stillness settled on the men and Xan traded looks with Jun. “He is with Jesso. I believe he is questioning the assassin who tried to kill you.”

This surprised her greatly. He had made no mention of the man talking, Last she had heard they couldn’t get the man to change out of truform. But why would he not tell her about this? He knew it was important to her. After all, it had been her life on the line. And it had almost killed Garrick. Just a few inches lower and the bolt would have pierced his heart. The very thought of it made her shudder.

“He is speaking? There is a dialogue?”

“Of…a sort…” Xan said cryptically. “You will have to ask Garrick about it.”

“I am asking you Xan,” she said in a firm, almost cold tone. “What is this man saying to my husband?”

“He says nothing to the king. Not yet, that is, and not directly. But they are questioning him in a…creative way.”

“Define creative,” she demanded of him.

Xan handed the infant back to Ulaiah and offered his arm to Sarea. “Come walk with me. I will explain.”

Sarea burst into the interrogation chamber, startling her husband, Jesso and Dakon. There was no one else in the room. Dakon looked as if he had been worked over good and hard and she gasped to see him. She flew to his side and touched trembling hands to his battered face.

“So it is true?” she demanded of her husband. “You are putting my brother in a cage with that monster! And this is what he has done to him?”

“Actually,” Jesso said a little sheepishly, “we did that to him.”

“We? Is that all of these geniuses here who think it’s a good idea to put my brother in with a murderer? What is it you hope to gain? What do you think he will tell the brother of the queen that he will not tell to you?”

“He doesn’t know I am the brother to the queen,” Dakon said. “He doesn’t recognize me. He wasn’t paying attention to Jesso’s lackey. He was concentrating on the queen and those closest to her.”

“He must have seen you the night you stopped his attack!”

“It was dark and I still had my mask on. He didn’t see me.”

“How do you know? How do you know he isn’t playing you the way you think you are playing him?” she demanded.

“We don’t,” her husband said softly. “But we have no other choice. For now. For now Dakon will continue to pose as his cellmate, a fellow prisoner. We have already gotten a great deal more information in just these past hours than we have gotten in an entire misra!”

“What kind of information?” she wanted to know.

“It isn’t clear yet, but this plot to kill you goes much deeper than just ridding the monarchy of you. If he is telling us the truth…and I believe he is…then there is a plot to overthrow this monarchy in its entirety,” Garrick said.

“A plot to kill you?” Sarea’s voice grew shrill. “You mean that arrow was not meant for me? It was meant for you?”

“No. It was meant for you. From what we’ve gleaned so far those who plot to overthrow me do not want me dead. I don’t understand the particulars, but I am hoping we will soon either through Dakon or through our questioning of the prisoner. The assassin is beginning to realize he is all alone in this, whatever his coconspirators may have told him. Dakon has been working on him for five days now. He is beginning to weaken.”

“Is this why I have not seen even the smallest sign of you?” Sarea said, her fingers playing anxiously with the family crest pendant Garrick had given her at her coronation. “Because you are living day and night in that cell with that beast?”

“They let me out to feed me decently,” Dakon joked.

“This is not funny!” Sarea cried. “What’s to keep him from killing you in your sleep?”

“He won’t. I’ve already wrestled with him. I’ve learned his strength. He is wicked fast and strong, but not enough to take me. And that is not me being cocky. I tested him first thing to see what he was capable of.”

“You tested him? You mean you provoked him!”

“I did. Don’t worry. The guards were close by if I needed them.”

“And how were they to know if they were needed? What if you couldn’t speak to cry out? Dakon, this is so dangerous!”

“Your brother recognizes the dangers,” Garrick said. He stood up and walked over to her, settling soothing hands around her head, his fingers brushing the twist she regularly kept her hair in now. “He is doing this for you. For us. It is for him to decide how far he is willing to go.”

“But he will do anything for you! He will do anything to be considered for Trusted!”

“That is the definition of Trusted. To be willing to give your life for the king…or queen. Jesso would do the same. Any of the Trusted would.”

Tears stung Sarea’s eyes. She knew this was true, but feeling the danger around her brother made it so much sharper. Made it harder to swallow. She clutched at her pendant and blinked, tears dropping from her lashes onto her cheeks.

“Have a care for him,” she said hoarsely. “I do not want to lose another loved one to this monster.”

“I will not let that happen,” Garrick promised her. “Now come. Kiss your brother goodbye and come upstairs with me.”

Sarea threw herself into her brother’s arms and she kissed him all over his bruised and battered face. Then she kissed his lips and stepped away from him. Jesso came up and tied Dakon's hands behind his back then walked him out of the room, no doubt back to his cell with a murderer.

“I cannot bear it!” she said hoarsely.

“All will be well. Now come, tell me what your spies have learned.”

“M-my spies?” she asked, startled. She began to toy with the pendant again as Garrick led her to the stairs and took her up them.

“I know you have been trying to worm your way into Gersa’s household with a spy of your own.”

“How did you know that?” she asked in shock.

“I knew you would not let the matter lie. I knew you would want to question her household yourself, but like with Dakon, the best way to do that is to place someone who might be trusted within her household.”

“I had one of her maids removed…making her require a new one. After setting up the demand, I simply filled it with someone of my choosing…only Gersa thinks it was her choosing. She does not suspect the girl is a spy.”

“Perhaps. But like Dakon, there is no knowing for certain. Has she discovered anything of value?”

“Nothing as yet. She is not yet in a position close enough to Gersa to allow her to be privy to any secrets she might have. But she is working her way into such a position. If there is anything to learn, she will learn of it.”

“It may well be there is nothing to learn. Gersa may well just be a vindictive bitch with no further ambition than to make your life miserable.”

“If so it is a goal she is failing at wretchedly,” she said with a sly smile. “For I am everything the opposite of miserable.”

“Is that so?” he asked, pulling her to a stop within a small alcove. He pulled her body flush to his and tipped her head back so she was looking up into his eyes.

“Yes. Quite so.”

“So you are happy then, my queen?” he asked her, his voice dropping an octave. “I have pleased you?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” she asked. “It is my duty to please you, my king.”

“I think it is safe to say we please each other,” he said, his fingers fanning out to brush down the long, elegant plane of her throat. He felt her swallow and smiled when her voice trembled.

“Yes, my king. I am well pleased.”

“As am I,” he said, his fingers drifting down into her neckline. This dress tied in the front between her breasts and he toyed with the bow lightly. He bent to kiss the shell of her ear. “I am hard for you even now,” he whispered into it.

She took in a soft breath at the revelation and then smiled softly. She leaned in closer to him, her hand going to his chest and running down over his abdomen.

“I shall have to see if that is true for myself,” she said silkily. Her fingers lowered to the line of his belt and then dipped lower still. She cupped him through the soft material of his breeches. She rubbed at his very hard staff, running her palm hard down the length of him.

He growled then, pulling the bow of her laces free and then sinking his fingers into her cleavage. Her bodice loosened as he sought for and found the weight of her breast. He fondled her within the tight confines of the bodice, finding her nipple and pinching it aggressively. She gasped in a breath and rubbed at his erection even harder. Then she was at the buttons of his pants, pulling them open, making room for her hand to dive in and grab hold of the hot, hard flesh of his cock.

He kissed her then. Wildly. Savagely. His hands left her bodice and went to her skirts, dragging them up.

“Turn!” he commanded her.

She did so obediently, giving him her back as he threw up her skirts and bared her backside to the cold air of the hallway. She looked anxiously up and down the hall. There was no one and it was a little used place, but still…they could be discovered at any moment. Jesso might come up from the dungeons just as they had and might happen upon them.

She felt his hands rubbing over the globes of her backside, his fingers dipping down between her legs from behind.

“So pretty. So damn pretty I can never get enough of you,” he said.

She gasped when he pulled her back against him hard. The hot rod of his flesh spearing through her wet folds. He found her entrance unerringly and was inside of her in a single thrust. He felt so hot, and so incredibly hard as he invaded her. His hands were anchored on her hips as he thrust into her again. She reached out and braced herself against the wall, pushing back into his next thrust.

“Yes,” he hissed on a sibilant ‘s’. “That’s the way. Take me. Take all of me.”

“I will,” she panted. “I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He slammed into her hard once. Then twice. It brought her up onto her toes and she moaned. His hand slid forward over her hip, down through her curls, and sought her clit. He circled his fingers around the juicy bud of nerves and using a grip on her mons he pulled her back into his next thrust. He did this several times until she was biting her lip to keep from crying out. His lips touched her ear.

“You want to scream for me, yes?” he asked, his breath hot against her ear, his cock hot within her body. She went wildly wet with his words, felt her excitement ratcheting up a notch.

“Yes,” she moaned in response. “But I can’t. Not here.”

“Why not here? It would echo so lovely down this hall.”

She moaned again as his thrusts continued at that slow, methodical pace. She wanted him to go faster. She needed his to be as wild as he was making her. Could he even imagine the insane pleasure he was capable of making her feel? Did she even give him half as much as he gave to her? How could she know?

She clenched her walls down around him, holding tightly to him as he withdrew. He cursed as he thrust in and found her just as tight. He was rapidly devolving into base need and animalistic thrusts. He imagined coming into her from behind in truform and wondered why the thought hadn’t occurred to him until now. The more he thought about it, the rougher he became. But she took it. Took everything he was giving her. And taking it gladly and passionately. Who would have ever thought that a woman so demure in the beginning was hiding such a voraciously sexual individual? He had seen it. Seen hints of it. Felt strong lines of it every time he had kissed and touched her. That night on the terrace he had known it for certain. But being passionate had not been enough for him. He had wanted her to be passionate
for him
. To want him above all others. And now he had no doubts about that. Just as he wanted her above all others…and always will. As trumates they would never turn away from one another. Their biorhythms would always be in sync. When one wanted more the other would want more. When one wanted less the other would want less.

But right then they wanted more.

He pulled her back, her back arching, putting her neck and shoulder at his mouth. He bit down on her, in the way of trumates, and she cried out, launching into orgasm. It sent him over the edge as well and he climaxed hard inside of her, holding her as his body strained.

They stood there a moment, gasping for breath, riding the high of the most intense passion known to man or beast. Surely she could feel it now, he thought. Surely she could feel the heart of a trumate beating in their breasts. He pulled away from her, feeling slightly frustrated despite having had an incredible climax. He was waiting for her to realize it on her own. Waiting for her to come to him. But she had not. Did she think all of this was normal? All of these feelings and all of this unquenchable passion? How was she to know otherwise? She had never known passion before, how was she to tell the difference?