Born of Silence

  That turned him defensive, which made her suspicions grow. "Do I have to have a reason to give you a present?"

  "If you're giving it to me because you don't want me to embarrass you, then yes."

  Darling choked at her unexpected, and highly erroneous assumption. Indignant, he glared at her. "How could I ever be embarrassed by you?"

  "I know I'm technically no longer an aristo, but--"

  "Zarya..." He placed his hands on her arms and stared into her amber eyes, hoping she could see how sincere he was. "You are an aristo. Your father may have been stripped of his titles and money, but your blood is as noble as anyone's in the CDS, and it's as royal as mine. I picked that set for you because I thought they'd be beautiful on you and I was right. Most of all, when my valet brought in my harone, it dawned on me that you didn't have any jewelry of your own. I wanted to give you some because I thought it would make you happy. That was the only thing that motivated me. I swear."

  Zarya wanted to weep as she heard those words. And here she'd tainted his beautiful gift. Suddenly, she felt stupid for doubting him when he had never given her a reason to.

  Rather, she'd attacked him out of her own insecurity and for the views that had been held by her last boyfriend.

  "Damn, Zarya. Can't you at least try to look like a woman when we go out? The last thing I want is for someone to think I'm dating a man or a hobo."

  It wasn't fair to Darling when he had never once said anything negative about how she dressed or looked. "I'm sorry, Darling. I didn't mean to be so shrewish."

  He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "It's all right. My nerves are shot, too. I hate doing shit like this just as much as you do."

  Clenching his teeth, he went over to his dresser and picked up a pair of darkly tinted glasses. Not quite as dark as sunglasses, they shielded her ability to see his eyes.

  She scowled in confusion. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know your vision was impaired."

  "I don't. But in the event I have to read something, I can't afford to let them know that I have a problem. Plus, if my eyes start jerking, I definitely don't want them to see it... I'm hoping these will help me keep both secrets."

  That made sense.

  "They look great on you, by the way."

  Darling appreciated her compliment. But even so, he had a terrible feeling about the meeting tonight--it was the same uneasy feeling he'd had the night before Clarion's attack. Every instinct he possessed told him something bad was going to happen.

  I won't let it.

  And yet even as that thought finished, an inner part of himself laughed at his arrogance.

  Fate is a bitch, but she always has a wicked sense of humor.

  Please, don't let me be her punch line tonight.

  19

  Darling paused outside the Grand Assembly room of the main CDS building. He could hear the roar of the gerents and their spouses through the strains of the orchestra music. There were four Sentella soldiers dressed as Caronese guards in front of him, waiting for his signal to open the door for his admittance.

  C'mon, Dar. You've done this a thousand times in the past. So what if they mock and laugh? You're now their governor.

  He had the power of life and death over all of them...

  Zarya released his arm and moved to stand at his back, next to Maris. Since she wasn't Darling's wife yet, protocol demanded that she and Maris trail him. Anything else would be seen as a slap to the aristos.

  He glanced over his shoulder to offer her a smile he didn't feel.

  But the sight of her cheered him exponentially. Dressed in the royal Caronese colors, she was breathtaking. Her strapless gown trailed behind her on the floor, giving her a regal look as she tucked her gloved hand into the crook of Maris's elbow. The royal jewels sparkled around her neck, but they were no match for her warm amber eyes.

  Against his will, his body hardened. Great, just what I need. Walk in there to face those bastards with a hard-on.

  "You two ready?" he asked them.

  Maris covered her hand with his. "Lead on, my lord. We will follow you anywhere."

  "Hell it is, then," Darling mumbled under his breath.

  With a deep breath to brace himself for the coming slaughter, Darling signaled the guards to open the doors. Without a word, they obeyed.

  Hating this with every fiber of his being, Darling forced himself to step forward.

  The moment they entered the hall, all sound immediately ceased and every eye in the room focused on him as he made his first public appearance.

  Zarya feared she might pass out as she saw the number of aristos in attendance who stared at them with contempt and disdain. Somewhere in the crowd, Drake and Ryn were here, but she couldn't see them anywhere.

  "Breathe easy," Maris whispered to her. "Remember, they're not looking at us. They're picking apart Darling."

  Trying her best to suppress her laughter at that, she wrinkled her nose at him. "You're so evil."

  "Yes, but it's true. We'd have to light ourselves on fire to catch their notice right now. Even then, I'm not sure if it'd work."

  Laughing as they followed Darling through the crowd, she saw heads leaning together as people began to gossip.

  Darling paused next to the majordomo and spoke in a tone so low, they couldn't hear him.

  The majordomo cleared his throat before he announced them. "All hail his exalted and esteemed lordship, High Governor Cruel."

  The room bowed to him.

  Looking every bit the part, Darling followed his guards to the elegant throne that was centered against the left wall on a small dais.

  Once he was seated and everyone had regained their feet, the majordomo spoke again. "The Andarion ambassador, his most honorable High Lord Maris Sulle and the most venerated Grand Marleena of Starrin, High Lady Zarya Starska."

  Shocked to the core of her being, she'd have fallen had she not been holding on to Maris. The last time she'd heard someone referred to as the Grand Marleena of Starrin, it'd been her mother. Her father had been the Grand Marle.

  Had Darling reinstated her title?

  He must have, otherwise it would have been illegal for her to use it. But why not tell her?

  It didn't make sense.

  Maris tightened his hand on hers as he led her to stand before Darling's throne. He bowed low while she curtsied in front of their governor.

  Darling inclined his head to them.

  After rising, she and Maris moved to stand to the right of the dais as all the gerents and their spouses came forward to follow suit and pay respect to their governor.

  "Don't you look smashingly gorgeous!"

  Zarya turned to see a tiny brunette. She threw her arms around Maris's neck and hugged him close.

  Smiling at her, he kissed the woman's cheek, then smoothed one of her curls that had fallen out of place. That action was so intimate, that it momentarily shocked Zarya.

  "I pale in comparison to you, my dearest love," Maris said, his grin widening. "But then you were always exquisite."

  The woman tsked at him. "You better be careful, Mari, lies like that will get you into trouble."

  "As long as it's the right kind, I don't mind at all." He gave a nod to Zarya. "Have you met the Grand Marleena?"

  "No, I have not." The woman spoke breathlessly in a tone that said she thought meeting Zarya would be scandalous.

  Maris kissed the woman's hand before presenting her. "Zarya, this absolutely ravishing beauty is Tamara. Tamara, Zarya."

  Zarya smiled at the petite woman. Maris was right, she was so gorgeous that it left Zarya feeling without. But she wouldn't hold that against her, not when she seemed to be so much fun. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Tamara."

  "Call me Tams, hon, everyone does." She frowned as she looked past Zarya's shoulder. "Ugh, I'm being summoned." Irritated, she glanced to Maris. "We need to have a girl gab session and catch up, Mari. I'll find out where our placards are and switch them so that we can sit together during dinner
. Later, my precious." She kissed him on the lips before making her way through the crowd.

  Flabbergasted by the entire encounter, Zarya arched a curious brow at Maris. "Who is she exactly?"

  More to the point, what was she to Maris? Because their entire interaction had been very strange.

  Maris gracefully pulled two glasses of wine from a passing server's tray. He handed one to her before he answered. "Tams was the woman I left standing at the altar."

  Zarya choked on her wine as those unexpected words rang in her ears. That had been Maris's former fiancee?

  She couldn't believe that Tams would be so nice and pleasant after such a humiliating ordeal--it was the kind of experience most women dreaded... And all the women Zarya had known would have still wanted to claw out Maris's eyes.

  "Pardon?"

  He saluted her with his glass. "It's true. And that was how I knew for a fact that I was gay. No question about it. If ever a woman would have attracted me and compelled me to be a breeder, it was she."

  His gaze went to Tamara as she and her husband were introduced to Darling. "She is truly beautiful, inside and out, in a way that very few people are. Besides Darling, she's one of my best friends and has always been such. May the gods bless her. Rather than being scandalized and bitter, she actually thanked me in the chapel for being honest and not trapping her into a celibate marriage of convenience."

  If nothing else about Tams was gracious, that alone would have made Zarya love the woman. "I'm so glad she was decent about it."

  "No kidding. Aside from Darling, she was the only one who was. The rest of her family wanted my testicles on a platter."

  Giggling at his vivid imagery, Zarya daintily picked up a small hors d'oeuvre from the tray a waiter presented to her. She'd just bitten into it when another aristo approached them. At least, she thought he was an aristo. While he was in uniform, he had the bearing and presence of one.

  Not to mention, he was amazingly handsome. Dressed in a formal black League uniform, he wore a pair of opaque sunglasses covering his eyes. His long black hair was braided down his back--the mark of a high-ranking assassin. He appeared ready to kill, but his features softened as he inclined his head to Maris.

  Was he one of Maris's former boyfriends? Darling had told her that Maris went through men faster than most people changed their socks.

  "You look so happy, Maris. I hope it's not a facade."

  Maris's features were unreadable, but his body was rigid and cold. "I am happy, thank you." His gaze dropped to the sleeves of the man's uniform. A slow smile curved his lips. "I see you made assassin's rank like you always wanted. Are you enjoying it?"

  True to his training, the assassin didn't betray a single emotion. "It's not exactly what I thought it would be. But I can't complain. And you..." He broke his stern countenance to laugh. "Darling made quite an impression with the High Command when he nailed every assassin Kyr sent in to kill him. It was highly impressive. Are you the one who taught him how to fight?"

  "Not I. Nykyrian Quiakides."

  "Ahhhh." The assassin returned to his cold demeanor. "That explains a lot, actually."

  Maris indicated Zarya with his glass. "Zarya, allow me to introduce you to Deputy Agent Safir Jari."

  The assassin stiffened. "Chief agent, actually."

  "Oh Saf, I'm so sorry." Maris finally relaxed into the man she knew and loved. "I so did not do that as an intentional slap to you." He gestured to the embroidery on Safir's sleeve. "I never could keep the League ranks straight."

  Safir smiled. "I know, Mari. Dad used to get so mad at you whenever you'd screw them up."

  Zarya had to catch herself to keep from gaping at the unexpected disclosure. This was one of Maris's many brothers?

  Really? Other than the black hair, they didn't really favor. Except they were both exceedingly handsome.

  Maris swallowed as a dark shadow clouded his gaze. "I take it he still won't speak my name."

  Safir's face mirrored Maris's pain. "Mom, either."

  Maris glanced around the room uneasily. "You should go before someone photographs you speaking to me and sends it to them. I don't want you to have to deal with that."

  Safir bowed respectfully to him. "Before I go, I should warn you that Kyr will be here tonight."

  A tic started in Maris's jaw. "Why?"

  "League High Command wants to hear what Darling has to say. It's why I'm here, too."

  "Are they going to make an attempt on his life?" That would be the natural assumption.

  Safir made a subtle gesture she assumed was a Phrixian sign of trust. "I wasn't given those orders, and to my knowledge no one else was either. We're simply here to observe. Nothing more." He paused next to Maris and placed his hand on Maris's shoulder before he leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

  Zarya frowned as Maris responded in an equally low tone.

  Stepping back, Safir offered her a stiff, formal bow. "It was an honor meeting you, my lady."

  "You as well." She curtsied to him.

  Once he was gone, she lifted a brow at Maris. "One of your many brothers, I presume."

  Maris nodded. "My youngest. He's also the only one of them who will still talk to me... when he can."

  It saddened her to hear that, especially since it was obvious that Safir loved his older brother. How tragic for their parents' prejudice to divide them so. But it wasn't her place to judge. She refused to be like others and hate someone when she didn't know what demons drove them to their beliefs.

  She watched as Safir was hailed over to a group of gerents who greeted him warmly.

  While she watched them, she reviewed their conversation. "When he said 'Kyr,' did he mean Kyr Zemen, the prime commander of the League?"

  Maris drained his glass in a way that was more akin to his military training than to the fastidious man she knew him to be. "One and the same. Unfortunately. Bloody damn wanker bastard."

  The venom behind those words had to spring from a personal grudge between them. She'd never seen so much hatred from Maris before toward anyone.

  Not even her.

  "How do you know him?" she asked.

  "He's my oldest brother."

  That news floored her. Completely. "Are you... what? No. Not possible. Well, I guess it's possible, but... why do all of you have different surnames?"

  He plucked another glass from a passing tray. "Unlike other cultures, Phrixians aren't born with their surnames. We earn them. Zemen means 'strength through adversity.' Jari is 'honor in battle.' "

  Ah... She hadn't caught the different nomenclature earlier because she hadn't realized when they were introduced that Safir was Maris's brother. "And Sulle?"

  He gave her a twisted grin. " 'Invincible.' "

  Her eyes widened at that.

  "I really was a soldier, Zarya," he said simply. Then he held his hands wide to show her his body. "Underneath all this fashionable, sexy attire is a bitch who knows how to kick ass and smack people around with the best of them."

  She still had a hard time reconciling Maris's playful personality with that hard military persona. Even though he'd shown it to her, he hadn't held it for very long. She just couldn't imagine him as a warrior.

  He reached for another hors d'oeuvre.

  A tall brunette woman stepped out of a passing group to pause by Maris's side. She swept him with an amused, but cold smile. "So, Mari, I have to know something."

  "Yes, Cretia?"

  She pinned Zarya with a glacial stare. "What does she do for you and Darling? Is she around to coach you on how to be a woman, or are you two instructing her on how to give blow jobs?"

  Zarya saw red. Before she even realized what she was doing, she lunged at the woman.

  Maris caught her with one arm and pushed her back.

  "Oh," Cretia said, raking her with a smug sneer. "She's your bodyguard. I get it now. Makes sense, since she has more testosterone than both of you combined." She drifted off.

  Zarya glared at him as h
e finally released her. "You should have let me rip her hair out by the dyed roots."

  Maris tsked at her. "Oh please. The last thing you want to do is get her acidic blood on your beautiful dress. Think of the poor designer who'd curse you for the affront to his hard work."

  "Yes, but the dry cleaner would thank me." She made an obscene noise at the direction the woman had vanished in. "I can't believe how rude she was."

  "That was exceedingly mild, thanks to her infantile intelligence. And look at it this way, they're all going insane with curiosity. Not to mention, jealousy. None of them can figure out why we both walked in as his royal escorts, wearing official Caronese court garb."

  He had a point. It was actually illegal for anyone other than a member of the governor's immediate family to wear the royal colors together unless it was a national holiday or they had a special dispensation from the governor.

  By having them in his colors and entering with them, Darling had made a very public statement about his feelings where she and Maris were concerned.

  Maris jerked his chin toward the dance floor. "Let's really get under their skin and rub their noses in it, shall we?"

  Laughing, she set her glass down, then took his proffered arm and allowed him to lead her toward the other dancers.

  Once they reached the floor, he swept her into his arms and masterfully guided her through the elaborate steps.

  Bored beyond human endurance, Darling glanced away as he tried not to roll his eyes at the ancient gerent in front of him who was droning on and on about the good old days under the reign of Darling's grandfather.

  As he glanced around the room, his gaze was drawn to a bright flash of maroon--a color only one woman had permission to wear tonight.

  The moment he focused on Maris and Zarya as they danced together and laughed, his blood began racing. If anyone other than Maris dared to hold her like that and make her appear so deliriously happy, they'd be searching the dance floor for their body parts.

  As it was, Darling was captivated by her beauty and vitality as they swirled together. Strange how, in all these years, he'd never known that she could dance. Never mind, do it so well.

  He went instantly hard.

  Desperate to be the one who added the color to her cheeks and make her laugh like that, he excused himself, then headed to the dance floor. In the back of his mind, he was well aware of the gossipmongers who watched and ruthlessly shredded his every movement. As governor, he wasn't supposed to dance at all. It was considered beneath his position.