Radiance

  He’d come to Saggara with a small entourage of Beladine soldiers. Their sparse numbers signaled a gesture of peace and trust in Brishen that this dinner would be as safe and friendly as the one the Kai attended at High Salure.

  The Beladine guests mingled with Kai officers and councilmen of the Kai villages and townships under Saggara’s protection. Ildiko admired the ease in which the two groups socialized, so different from her wedding where Gauri and Kai almost drew swords on each other. Such actions seemed counterintuitive to the realities at hand: The Kai were allied with the Gauri through trade while hostilities with the Beladine brewed hotter every day. Serovek and those under his command were unique in the political fray. Ildiko wondered how long his friendship with Brishen would last after a declaration of war or accusation of treason. She hoped neither came to pass.

  “You are a fine hostess, Your Highness, and your cooks in danger of abduction to High Salure.” Serovek inclined his head to where servants cleared the remains of the earlier dinner from the tables. In one corner, a quintet of Kai musicians strummed instruments, the haunting melodies accompanying the din of several conversations. “I especially enjoyed the scarpatine pie.”

  Ildiko shuddered. Her hope to never again see or eat the Kai’s most beloved and revolting delicacy had been in vain. When Brishen informed her that the dish was one of Serovek’s favorites, she resigned herself to another culinary battle with her food and put the scarpatine on the menu. She ordered roasted potatoes as well, much to the head cook’s disgust.

  When servants brought out the food and set it on the table, Brishen leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Revenge, wife?”

  “Hardly,” she replied, keeping a wary eye on the pie closest to her. The golden top crust, with its sprinkle of sparkling salt, pitched in a lazy undulation. “But I’m starving, and I have no intention of filling up on that abomination.”

  Their guest of honor didn’t share their dislike of either food. As deft as any Kai, Serovek made short work of the scarpatine and its whipping tail, cleaved open the shell with his knife and took a generous bite of the steaming gray meat.

  Ildiko’s stomach heaved. She forgot her nausea when Serovek complimented her. “An excellent choice to pair the scarpatine with the potato, Your Highness. They are better together than apart.”

  Beside her, Brishen choked into his goblet. He wiped his mouth with his sanap. “What a waste of good scarpatine,” he muttered under his breath.

  What a waste of a nice potato, she thought. However, the more she thought on Serovek’s remark, the more her amusement grew.

  “And what has you smiling so brightly?” Brishen stared at her, his lambent eyes glowing nearly white in the hall’s torchlight.

  She glanced at Serovek, happily cleaning his plate and shooting the occasional glance at Anhuset nearby. Brishen’s cousin refused to meet his gaze, but Ildiko had caught the woman watching the Beladine lord more than a few times during dinner.

  “That’s us, you know,” she said.

  “What is us?”

  “The scarpatine and the potato. Better together than alone. At least I think so.”

  One of Brishen’s eyebrows slid upward. “I thought we were hag and dead eel. I think I like those comparisons more.” He shoved his barely-touched potato to the edge of his plate with his knife tip, upper lip curled in revulsion to reveal a gleaming white fang.

  Ildiko laughed and stabbed a piece of the potato off his plate. She popped it into her mouth and chewed with gusto, eager to blunt the taste of scarpatine still lingering on her tongue.

  The crowd broke into groups after dinner, and Ildiko soon found herself in conversation with Serovek and on the opposite side of the hall from Brishen.

  The lines at the corners of the lord’s eyes fanned and deepened. "Will you favor me with a dance, Your Highness? The Kai think humans are clumsy creatures. Shall we prove them wrong?"

  Ildiko glanced at Brishen who stood conversing with a mayor of one of the nearby Kai villages. He didn't look directly at her, but she sensed the weight of his gaze. Gauri society dictated that a woman either ask her father or her husband permission to dance with another man. Kai society did not. To the Kai, it was perfectly acceptable for Ildiko to take up Serovek's invitation without Brishen's approval. Still, she hesitated.

  Serovek's chuckle returned her attention to him. He nodded toward Brishen. "Were we both Kai, I don't think he'd care. If I were Kai, he wouldn't care. But we're both human, and that presents something very different. I desire a dance with you, but I'd also like to leave Saggara alive."

  Ildiko clinked her goblet against his in silent agreement. She had no idea how one might read the more subtle hints of jealousy in a Kai, but there was a certain rigidity in Brishen's stance that reminded her of an owl watching prey from the branches of a tree. "As I'm still learning Kai protocol, I think I'll ask my husband what the proper response is to such an invitation."

  His grin transformed Serovek's already handsome face into an even more striking visage. Ildiko tried not to gape. "I await your answer, madam."

  Ildiko left him to seek out Brishen. He was no longer where she first saw him, and she kept to the outer perimeters of the room, searching for broad shoulders garbed in indigo silk and a long, black braid. She jumped when his voice suddenly sounded behind her.

  "I'm told Serovek is known as the Stallion in the Beladine court." A muscled arm slid around Ildiko's waist, and she leaned back against Brishen's chest. He rubbed his nose along the curve of her ear. "He's an exceptional horseman, but I doubt the title was bestowed on him because of his skills in the saddle."

  His cheek was cool and smooth pressed to hers. "I suspect, my husband, that is exactly why he was given the title."

  His low laughter rumbled in her ear. A clawed hand outlined the curve of her waist before settling at her hip. “You stalk this hall with purpose, Ildiko. What do you seek?”

  “Serovek has requested a dance with me. I know the Kai don’t follow the Gauri customs, but he thought it best I ask you first.”

  She felt it then, a stiffening in his body as he pressed against her. It faded as soon as it appeared, but Brishen’s voice had lost its sensual warmth and turned clipped.

  “He has a finely honed sense of survival. It makes him a good warrior. Do you wish to dance with him?”

  Ildiko turned in his embrace so she could face him. She stroked his arm and gazed into his eyes. “I wish to dance with you, but I think it only hospitable as one of his hosts if I dance one dance with him.” She winked. “Or you could dance with him.”

  Brishen snorted, and his features softened. “There is hospitable, and then there’s ridiculous.” He brushed his mouth across her forehead. “You don’t need my leave to dance with another, wife. But I reserve the right to steal you away at any time.”

  Beladine and Kai guests paired off as the musicians segued into the beginnings of a more high-spirited tune. Ildiko wove through the crowd and found Serovek where she left him. He watched her approach with a slight smile.

  “Will I live another day?” he asked.

  She handed him her goblet so he could set it on the table behind him. “That depends. If you trample my feet, I’ll kill you.” Her grin matched his laughter. “You’ll forgive me, of course, if I trample yours. I’m not familiar with Kai dances. Until recently, I didn’t even know they danced.”

  Serovek grasped her offered hand and led her toward the center of the hall. “They are exceptional dancers. Think about it. Strong, fast, and nimble, they are made for it. And you may recognize many of their tunes. The Gauri and the Beladine have taken a few as theirs over the centuries.”

  They waited amidst a throng of other couples who had paused after the first tune ended and before the next one began. Ildiko glimpsed Brishen across the hall, watching them. When the second tune started, she clapped her hands. “You’re right! I know this song.”

  Serovek lifted her hand, bowed and swept her into a loose embrace. “Y
our Highness, it is my honor.”

  They fell into familiar steps. Serovek had spoken true when he said the Gauri—and the Beladine as well—had borrowed a few things from the Kai. She had learned to dance to this particular song when she was very young. It was a popular dance at the Gauri court and one of her favorites.

  Serovek’s familiarity with the dance was obvious. He guided her smoothly through the steps, graceful as any Kai, especially for a man of his stature. Her feet were in no danger of being crushed; her partner was an adept dancer. It would have been perfect if she danced with Brishen instead of Serovek.

  The dance soon came to an end, and Serovek surrendered her to a Kai officer who bowed low and requested a dance. It was followed by another with a Kai town councilman and one after that with one of Serovek’s Beladine soldiers.

  She was flushed, winded and thirstier than a willow tree by a dry lake bed when Brishen sought her out, carrying a much welcomed goblet of wine. Ildiko took it with heartfelt thanks and drained it in two swallows.

  Brishen blinked and offered his wine. “Would you like mine?”

  Ildiko shook her head. “No. You’ve rescued me. I thought my tongue would stick to the roof of my mouth if I didn’t stop dancing soon and find something to drink.” She handed her empty goblet to a passing servant.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” He downed his drink and sent the cup off with Ildiko’s.

  “I am.” Ildiko reached out to play with one of the lacings on his tunic. “Though I’d have much more fun if you paused a moment from all your political machinations and plans to dance with me. Just one dance, husband. It isn’t much to ask.” She winked at him. He had promised to claim her from any of her dance partners but so far had refrained, choosing instead to circulate through the hall, talking with both Beladine and Kai guests, including Serovek when that lord wasn’t dancing himself.

  Brishen grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss. The caress sent tingles from the tips of her fingers to her toes and set a hot pool of desire swirling inside her. She hadn’t chosen this husband of hers, nor had he chosen her, but fate or kind gods had brought them together, made them friends and then lovers. While her Gauri peers might shudder at the idea of a Kai mate and give thanks they weren’t her, Ildiko considered herself the most fortunate of women.

  Her expression must have revealed something of her thoughts. Brishen tilted his head, a puzzled furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “What is it?”

  “I want to dance with you now,” she said in a low voice only he could hear. “But I want to make to love to you more.” Her cheeks burned hot at her own blunt declaration and the reaction it caused.

  Brishen’s back snapped straight, and his eyes paled. Her fingers went briefly numb at the sudden grip he closed on her hand. His lips flattened against his teeth; nostrils flared, and the skin drew tight across his cheekbones. He said nothing, but Ildiko suddenly found herself jogging to keep up as he pulled her across the hall toward the stairwell leading to Saggara’s private wing.

  “Brishen, wait.” she whispered, caught between panic and laughter. The weight of several curious gazes rested on her shoulders, no doubt wondering why the Herceges of Saggara suddenly decided to whisk his wife out of the hall.

  She stumbled into him when he halted abruptly and turned. He caught her in his arms and helped her regain her balance. His eyes still glowed white-hot, and his breathing paced shallow from his nostrils. His voice, by contrast, was cool and uninflected. “Are you trying to kill me, Ildiko?”

  Were they not standing in the middle of the hall with a crowd of people watching, she’d twine her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless. Brishen’s parted lips revealed the tips of his fangs. Carefully senseless, she corrected.

  She settled for squeezing his hand and offering an apologetic smile. “Killing you is the farthest thing from my mind, and were we alone, I’d race you to the stairs.” His claws were dark against her knuckles, lethal as spear points knapped from obsidian. “But we aren’t alone, and we are the hosts. We’re obligated to stay.”

  Torchlight caught his eyes in a different pattern as his gaze flickered from her face to the crowd behind her and back again. “And who will stop us if we leave?”

  No one would. In Haradis, Brishen was the unessential spare prince. At Saggara, he was king and subject to no one. Still, Ildiko didn’t relish the gossip such an act would incite. She traced the line of his knuckles with her free hand.

  “I don’t regret my words, only their timing,” she said. “Dawn isn’t far off. Dance with me until then, and you can bid your guests good riddance.”

  His lids closed for a moment, black lashes thick against his cheeks. When he opened them again, his eyes were once more their lamplight yellow. “As you wish, but it will be another day of no sleep, wife,” he warned in a voice no longer cool but sensual. He kissed her hand for a second time, leaving a damp line as his tongue stroked across her fingers.

  Ildiko gasped, her knees going weak at the caress. She exhaled a shuddering breath. “I’ll hold you to that promise, husband.”

  He claimed her for the rest of the night, either dancing with her or keeping her by his side when others drew him away to discuss the various issues of the townships and villages under Saggara’s guardianship.

  Night gave way to day, and the wine flowed fast and generous. Servants escorted some of the more inebriated guests to spare rooms prepared in a ground floor wing near the kitchens. Brishen offered Serovek one of the chambers on the second floor, along the same hallways as his and Ildiko’s chambers.

  Serovek refused and slapped Brishen on the back. His dark eyes were glassy with drink, but he remained steady on his feet, and Ildiko suspected anyone foolish enough to think him vulnerable to attack would find themselves suffering or dead for making such a mistake.

  “A generous offer, my friend, but I’m for home.” He smiled, and Ildiko was once again struck by the beauty of his features. “And unlike you Kai, I enjoy the feel of the sun on my face when I ride.” He gestured toward Anhuset who stood among her compatriots, tugging ceaselessly at her finery and scowling. “I will, however, accept an escort to your gate.”

  The Kai might not be able to read human expression any better than Ildiko could read theirs, but Serovek’s interest in Anhuset was plain to her. He caught her knowing look and winked in return. Brishen stiffened beside her.

  Thanks for Saggara’s hospitality, wishes for a safe journey and promises of mutual aid if needed were exchanged before Serovek and his party left, escorted by a sour-faced Anhuset sporting a tell-tale dusting of color on her high cheekbones.

  They watched him leave. Brishen slowly pivoted to survey his nearly empty hall. The sun-flare returned to his eyes when he settled his stare on Ildiko. Her breath caught in her throat. “And now I can say good riddance.”

  This time it was she who yanked him to the stairs and raced down the corridor. His door banged open against the wall and just as quickly slammed back on its frame. Brishen slid the bolt home and turned in time for Ildiko to shove him against its expanse.

  She was desperate to touch him, feel the solid strength of muscle beneath her hands, the smooth expanse of gray skin. The fire that had smoldered inside her since his aborted attempt to seduce her before they went downstairs to greet their guests flared to an inferno. She caught his braid in one hand and used it to pull his head down to her.

  The gleam of fangs didn’t deter her from kissing him—hard. He groaned and offered his tongue. She took him deep, tasting sweet wine and the honey harvested from the wild hives built in the bramble-strangled orange grove.

  Brishen hoisted her in his arms, hands cupping her buttocks. His breath sounded harsh in her ear as she nibbled his neck and caught his earlobe in between her teeth. Another groan was her reward. “So eager, wife?” he said between pants.

  “How can you tell?” she whispered to the sweet space behind his ear. She rocked against him, seeking the erection that
proclaimed his desire for her was as great as hers for him. His fingers flexed, claws piercing layers of cloth. Ildiko gasped from the pleasure-pain.

  He froze. “Forgive...”

  “Nothing to forgive.” She tore at the lacings on his tunic, loosening some and knotting the others. Her mewl of frustration drew a chuckle from him.

  “This is when claws come in handy, wife.”

  He made short work of the tunic, splitting it down the center with one swipe of his hand to reveal a sculpted chest that made Ildiko breathe an admiring “oooh.” He didn’t stop there, and soon their finery hung off them in sliced ribbons.

  Brishen’s chest was hot against her breasts, the room’s air chilly on her back. He’d rucked up her long tunic to her waist and shoved her silk trousers below her hips. His own clothing was equally twisted and shoved aside.

  Ildiko arched her back and gasped Brishen’s name when he thrust inside her. Every muscle clenched, eliciting a low growl from him as he clutched her hips, braced himself against the door, and set a hard pace.

  “My gods, Ildiko,” he managed to gasp out between thrusts. “You’re a hearth fire. Were you like this downstairs?”

  She wondered vaguely how he could possibly remain coherent. She was reduced to mewls and moans. “Yes,” she said. “Needed you. Need you now.”

  She punctuated her demand by scoring the corded tendons of his neck with her teeth. Brishen’s knees buckled, and he nearly dropped her. Had he done the same to her, he would have laid open her jugular. Her teeth, though, were no danger to him. She wasn’t Kai and heartily glad of it.

  He employed the trick he discovered when they first lay together, angling his pelvis so that every thrust rubbed in just the right way. She climaxed in his arms, uncaring that her guttural cries likely carried down the corridors and all the way out to the redoubt’s defenses. A few more deep thrusts and Brishen joined her, his own moans low, almost bestial.

  They sagged against the door, Ildiko boneless in Brishen’s grasp. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, breath hot as it gusted across her breasts. He finally straightened and staggered to the bed, careful not to trip or lose his hold on her.