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Authors: Jacquelyn Frank

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BOOK: Trusted
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“So…if I told you to leave right now…you would do so? Without your kiss?” she asked, testing him.

“I would…if you promised me a chance to kiss you in the future.”

“I…but…” She floundered, unable think of something to say. She could either kiss him now…or promise to kiss him later. Those were her two choices. “It…would be just a kiss? A simple kiss?”

“A kiss, but I have a feeling there would be nothing simple about it,” he said.

“Then…I would have to promise one for later.” Perhaps she could talk him out of this between now and then. And there wasn't exactly a time in specific where she would have to do this. It could be yana in the future if she wanted it to be.

“Within the next shona,” he amended, blowing that option out of the water.

“But…”

He kissed her closed fist and in spite of herself, her fingers relaxed. He took advantage and pressed a kiss into her open palm.

“T-technically you are already kissing me,” she said.

“I think we can both be adults and agree that this is not the kind of kiss we are speaking of.” He kissed her palm again and her fingertips curled against his cheek. He needed a shave. The king was not the sort to wear a beard or goatee. He kept his face smooth and clean. Except for right then.

“I s-still would prefer later then. But,” she agreed, “within the next shona. Sometime.”

“Very well.” He dropped her hand slowly and stepped back. He reached for the handle to the door. “I will hold you to this promise.”

“I have no doubt,” she muttered.

He laughed. “Do not fret. It will not be as bad as all that. I am told I am quite pleasant to kiss. I will make certain my teeth are polished clean and my breath sweet.”

She couldn’t help but smile with mischief. “And I can promise you I will stink of old meat pies and my teeth will grow fur.”

“Fur. I should like to see your fur.”

Female Vena only showed their truform to their husbands during certain mating rituals.

“It is ugly and splotchy,” she promised him.

“We shall see about that,” he said with a smile. “Good night, Sarea.”

“Good night, my king.”

“Garrick. You may call me Garrick.”

“I will call you my king,” she said stubbornly.

“We shall see about that as well,” he said. Then he pulled open the door and stepped through. When the door closed behind him, she sagged in relief.

She was in huge trouble, she realized. Somehow she had managed to put herself under his skin. She did not wish to be there. But she knew now he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. So…she had to figure out ways to keep him at bay. He said she had all the power…she would have to test that.

Test it thoroughly.

Chapter Six

The next day they rode back to the city as a group. Dakon, Garrick, her mother and Sarea. The king once again rode abreast of her and engaged her in conversation. They talked of all manner of things, almost as if the king were testing her for flaws in her knowledge. But she found herself being stubborn on that point. She would not let him prove her to be stupid in any topic.

“So you would have females go to school as well as the males?” he asked her. “Who would then keep houses and keep men comfortable?” he asked her. But she knew he was just arguing the other side to get a rise out of her. He had already said he believed women should be as educated as the men.

“Servants would, just as they do now. And they would go as children, before they have such responsibilities. They would learn as I have learned. With tutors for the wealthy and in public schools for the rest.”

“And who will pay for these public schools?”

“You will.”

“Will I? How will I do that?”

“Just as you do everything else. Through taxes. You can implement a specific school tax. In the end it will make the people better as a whole, so you should hear very little in complaint. The young farmers’ boys might have opportunity to better themselves as learned men. Or as farmers like their fathers only better able to keep figures and therefore able to create better trade for themselves. For merchants the same applies. The more learned their children, the better the merchants they can become.”

“But what has this to do with daughters? They will not be farmers or merchants or learned men.”

“Not--!” She scoffed. “Show me a farmer’s wife who is not a farmer! Farmer’s wives are in the field as often as their husbands are! And what if a woman is widowed? Then what is to become of her? She must know how to read and do figures if she is to support herself and her children.”

“Some would say she needs a new husband.”

“Let the woman have time to grieve in her own comfort,” Sarea said. “She shouldn’t be forced to marry again just because she can’t feed her children. And if you educate them they are less in need of charity. It serves all involved to see our women book smart.”

“I would agree with you,” he said. “But there are many set in their ways. I could create these schools, but it may be none would allow their children to attend.”

“But some will. And then the next yana some more will. And when this one sees how that one’s learned daughter is helping them make better merchants of them, then they will want to send their daughters as well. It will take time, yes, but eventually all will fall into line. Or, if not all…many,” she said, cutting off his argument that they would never be able to convince all.

“And who will teach these schools? The learned men?”

“And eventually the learned women. It would be the perfect occupation for those who come from a house with many sisters or those women who are not inclined to marry.”

“All women are inclined to marry.”

“Not all,” she said stubbornly. “They may be forced to it, but they are not necessarily inclined toward it. This will give them an option of supporting themselves without a husband. Or perhaps it would be the perfect occupation for a widowed woman.”

“You have put much thought into this,” he said, clearly impressed.

“I am a woman. I look out for my own.”

“I see this. Would that I were one of the ones you looked out for. I would be very blessed.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she fell silent. They rode in companionable silence the rest of the way to the castle. When they arrived it was nearly midday’s meal time and, sure enough, her three best friends were there waiting for her. They were all agog at the thought of having been invited to the castle for midday’s meal with the king.

“What has happened?” Isobol asked her directly.

Sarea flushed. “It would appear I have garnered the dubious attentions of our king.” She told her of all that had happened, including what had transpired in her bedroom the night before.

“Oh dear. That is a trouble,” Isobol said with a kindly twinkle in her eyes. Isobol knew her well enough to know how something like this would disturb her, but clearly her friend could not resist the opportunity to tease her.

“Isobol, I am serious! What am I to do? If he is intent on making me his mistress, there is nothing I can do to stop him.”

“He said to you you have all the power, and it seems to me that you do. He left when he promised, did he not?”

“But only after securing a kiss from me in the future. He can claim it at any time!”

“Would that truly be so bad?” Isobol asked her. “He is a handsome, virile man. I could think of worse men to kiss.”

“It will start at one kiss and before you know it…I will be in bed with him.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It seems to me that you can only end up in bed with him if you want to. The question becomes, do you want to?”

“No!”

“You say that now, but you haven’t given him a chance.”

“I don’t need to give him a chance! I only want to give myself to my husband!”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Isobol asked, her warm brown eyes knowing. Isobol was not a great beauty, but she was beautiful in Sarea’s eyes. With her mink brown hair and matching eyes and flawless brown skin, she was extraordinary as far as Sarea was concerned.

And Isobel was just as sharp of wit as Sarea was. Actually, she was being far too canny in that moment for Sarea’s comfort. But she didn’t want to lie to her best friend, or herself. Only if she were honest could she put herself on guard.

“Of course I’m curious. But the world is full of such curiosities. If I chased down every one of them my reputation would already be in tatters.”

“But this is not just any curiosity. This is the king. Did it ever occur to you that his intentions might be honorable?”

Sarea gasped out a laugh. “What? Make me queen? I’ve neither the breeding nor power to make that a sensible match on his end. My father is a minor lord from the southlands. He would do better to marry Lord Tyron’s daughter. Lord knows Gersa has been trying for yana.”

“She’s the one woman he wouldn’t touch with a long pole!” The women giggled. “Can you imagine Lord Tyron’s fury if the king were to sully his daughter without a proper marriage?”

“I wouldn’t want to marry her either,” Sarea whispered as they glanced across the room to where Gersa sat with a small flock of women around her. “She’s so pinched faced and spoiled. She’ll ruin a woman’s reputation in a heartbeat by spreading lies about her as if they were fact. And she has the influence to see the lies stick like truth.”

“We are definitely going to need to keep our eyes on that one if we are going to spend any time in the company of the king,” Isobol said.

“You see? I have no patience for such intrigues! I have better things I could be doing with my time!” Sarea said.

“Such as catching dashu fever?” Isobol said. “Your mother told us how the king came to your rescue!”

“I did not need to be rescued! Although, I am glad for the sake of Lalo and the other farmers that the medics are there to care for them.”

“See? Something good has come of this relationship already. Perhaps you can see that other good things happen as well.”

“Well…we were talking about schooling for women…” She scoffed. “But my arguments with him over the subject couldn’t possibly lead to him suddenly deciding to provide schools for everyone who wants to go to them.”

“Couldn’t they?” Isobol said in a knowing tone. “I guess we shall see. But think on it. Think of things you feel strongly about and see if he is of a mind to do anything to help. He is a king, after all. He could potentially erase all the troubles from the world.”

“If that were true I think he would have solved all of the problems by now.”

“Well, one thing at a time, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Come on. It’s time to eat.”

They sat at the table with all the usual guests that came for midday meal only, instead of being seated according to rank, Sarea and her friends were instructed to sit along the immediate left and right sides of the table…with Sarea being intended to sit at his right. At the last minute she pushed Isobol into that chair and took the seat next to her. She peeked to see the king’s expression and to her consternation he looked amused. Damn him, she wasn't there for his entertainment!

But what
was
she there for? To amuse him? To pleasure him? What?

Because she was seated to Isobol’s right, that opened her right side to the next highest-ranking person in the room. Jesso, Garrick’s most Trusted. Hannibol was absent from the table, as was Jun and Killium. Xan sat on the opposite side from her at her friend Hycinth’s left. To Jesso’s right sat Gersa, the next highest ranking individual in the room.

“My king,” Gersa spoke up, raising her voice so she could be heard down the table. “Is it true there is dashu fever in the southlands?”

“It is indeed. It has affected Lord Shorin’s tenants. I do not know if it has spread farther than that. I happened upon Lady Sarea tending one of the farmer’s sick children.”

“You mean…Lady Sarea has been exposed to dashu fever and now she’s sitting here with us?” Gersa was clearly appalled.

“As have I,” the king said dangerously.

Gersa did not look to be affected by this in the least. She was a woman who knew who her father was…and knew how little respect for the king he had. It had clearly bled down into his daughter.

“Well, I don’t know if it is wise to be in such large company after such exposure. You could potentially start an epidemic.”

“If you are so concerned, Lady Gersa, then perhaps you had best eat somewhere else,” Garrick said. He gave a curt nod to Jesso who stood up and took the Lady Gersa’s arm in his hand. He pulled her up out of her seat.

“Do not touch me, you great, lumbering oaf!” Gersa cried, yanking her arm free. But Jesso took hold of it again easily. “My king, I only meant…I did not mean I wished to leave,” she said, turning suddenly sweet. “I would never wish to be deprived of your company.”

Jesso stood there with her arm in hand, waiting for Garrick to signal him one way or another. Finally he nodded in reprieve and Jesso released the Lady Gersa and regained his seat next to Sarea. Sarea had to hide a smile beneath her cup of wine. The king was quick to act when something pleased or displeased him, and when he acted it was succinct. Sarea didn’t know if this was a good quality or a bad one. Was he rash? Or did he simply know what he wanted instantaneously and was able to make well thought out plans quickly?

By threatening to remove the Lady Gersa, he had let her know in no uncertain terms who was in charge of the situation. Who had the power. It was clear to Sarea that Gersa had needed the reminder. Being removed forcibly from a meal with the king would have put a sizeable dent in Gersa’s reputation. Of course she would do anything to keep that from happening.

“How long have the children been ill?” Jesso asked her.

“They only just came down with it three days ago. My mother and I went out as soon as we heard. All six of the children had it, and no mother to tend them. There were three other farms with the sickness as well. But thanks to the king, they are all being well tended by medics. That should keep any threat of epidemic at bay,” Sarea said pointedly as she looked to Gersa. Gersa gave her a tight smile in reply.

“Still, you should not have gone where there is sickness, my king,” Jesso said. “We would be lost without you and it does not serve for you to take risks.”

“I was not exposed for very long, if at all. I merely stood in the same room.”

“That may be enough,” Jesso said grimly. “I would not have you ill.”

“Thank you for your concern, Jesso, but I will be fine.”

The topic was put to rest with that statement and a warning look from the king. Jesso got the message and let the matter drop.

Sarea came to discover that Jesso was as equally learned as his king. She chased many topics of conversation with him as they ate. Garrick often lent his opinion to the discussion. When the meal was over the company retired to the main salon at the front of the castle, the sun streaming in the west facing windows. Sarea sat next to Isobol, Juness and Hycinth and watched as others clotted around in small groups. The king very shortly arrived at their group with Jesso in tow.

“Ladies, how did you find your meal?” Garrick asked them.

“It was divine,” Hycinth gushed. “We do not have such fine midday meals at the manor house. It is usually a much more simple affair.”

“Ah, but this is the king’s castle,” Sarea said. “All things must be done on a grand scale to suit the king.”

“The king is equally suited to things less grand,” he said to her. “Sometimes simple is better. Sometimes it is more elegant. More worth treasuring.”

Sarea flushed. Why did she get the feeling he was talking about her and not the midday’s meal?

“So you are to hunt soon?” she said in an overly loud voice. She cringed to hear herself.

“Yes. It will feel good to run free in the red woods,” Jesso said with relish. “Taking down game in truform, the way it is meant to be done.”

BOOK: Trusted
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