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Then, as now, Serovek wished the illusion of easy-going strength he cultivated was real.
And yet you dislike him, an inner voice admonished her. Another added a mocking rebuttal. Because he’s dangerous. He makes you feel.
“You’re going to vex me the entire trip to the monastery, aren’t you?” He grinned. “I hope to charm you the whole way so that you fall into my arms by the time we arrive.” “If you still have arms by then.”
Sha-Anhuset wasn’t beautiful. Not in the way of Beladine women or even human women in general. Not even in the way of Kai women. But she was sublime, as majestic and unyielding as the distant Dramorins.
He had cared for but not loved the woman he’d married. He’d instantly loved but never had a chance to know the daughter she bore him. He still grieved them both.
“I’m not sure I’d know what to do with a hair ribbon,” Anhuset finally said, addressing the stars above them. “Probably strangle someone with it.” She choked on the wine she’d just sipped, and Serovek thumped her on the back until she quieted. Then she laughed, and he was lost. There was the magic of the Kai, and then there was the sorcery of Anhuset’s laughter.
History has proven more than a few times that
She instantly regretted the harsh words. He hadn’t deserved them. He frightened her, twisted her into knots with emotions she couldn’t understand and didn’t welcome, and she’d gone on the attack.
“I’m not typical, firefly woman,” he practically purred at her. “Nor do I toss out empty boasts.”
The notion he should have taken up sculpting instead of warfare just for the ability to carve this majestic woman from stone wasn't what he needed to dwell upon at the moment.
Serovek Pangion was ugly, irritating, and far too cocksure of himself, especially regarding his presumed attraction to the opposite sex, including her. And his hair cascaded through her fingers like silk.
Her gaze drifted over him, stopping at his groin to stare admiringly at his endowments. “So the rumors were accurate,” she said bluntly. “I wondered. And doubted.”
He'd always considered her a fiercely beautiful woman, even with the yellow eyes and intimidating teeth. His first sight of her had stopped him in his tracks, and he'd gawked like a young lad while she bent a contemptuous scowl on him.
What about this taciturn, intimidating Kai woman fascinated him so? Everything.
Serovek was right. She'd do a much better job of strangling someone with the ribbon than decorating her hair. She was no Glaurin Pangion, proud and lovely. She was sha-Anhuset, proud and fierce.
No one, Kai or human, had ever affected her the way this Beladine nobleman did, and it terrified her.
“You're the worst sort of tease,” she grumbled. “Oh, my beauty, you have no idea. I hope one day to enlighten you.”
Brishen Khaskem had never been weaker than when he fell in love with his wife. Nor as strong, argued the internal voice.
“You are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever beheld.” Perched on the edge of sleep, she wondered if she imagined Serovek's compliment. She didn't bother to open her eyes. “I don't understand why you think so,” she mumbled. His voice caressed her, body and soul. “And I don't understand why you do not.”
it isn't a weakness to feel sadness. Whoever boasts they haven't been touched by sorrow or tragedy is lying. We grieve because we still remember what it is to feel.”
<3
A certain steward rises in the world if the margrave doesn't make it back to High Salure. Pangion isn't nearly as valuable alive as he is dead.” The shock of his words left her almost as speechless as the ice water dousing she'd endured the day before. Bryzant had planned all this?
“Ah gods,” he said in a rough voice. “We made love, didn't we? And I don't remember any of it.” He shifted position, cursing from the pain it caused him. “You weren't jesting when you said I wouldn't survive you.”
“Your smile. There's no finer sight than a smile from sha-Anhuset, unless it's a smiling, naked Anhuset.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
At his nod, she smiled a wide, toothy smile guaranteed to turn most humans pale with fright. Serovek only wondered how he might kiss her senseless without having his tongue shredded to ribbons.
“If the gods abandon us, I will be proud to die fighting at the side of Serovek Pangion, Margrave of High Salure and battle mate to Brishen Khaskem.”
These ephemeral moments with Anhuset in his arms would remain burned in his memory until he died—which might well be as soon as the inevitable dawn.
“So my reward for living will be dying from swiving you at a later date?” She tapped his shoulder with one claw. “Don't presume. It will be me swiving you.”
“Do you always court death?” she asked, a growl underlying her question. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Rarely, though some might consider courting you one and the same.” “You aren't courting me,” she snapped, the blush riding her cheekbones now spreading across her face. He'd flustered her. “So sayeth you,” he replied. “And only you.”
I wouldn't know what to do with a hair ribbon. She'd asked why he never married, and he'd told her of his wife, describing her beauty and love of hair ribbons.
“My preference shouldn't matter,” she said. “It's your face.” “Your preference will always matter.”
Serovek had found her a challenge as well, though not in the same fashion. The way he looked at her when they first met was the same way he looked at her now, as if he'd just discovered the most sublime of all the gods' creations. Sometimes it puzzled her; other times it overwhelmed her.
Anhuset refused to lie to herself. She wanted much more than a week with the margrave of High Salure.
Never in her life had she imagined she'd fall in love with a brash human with his strange, laughing blue eyes and stout heart. She closed her eyes against the terror of that realization.
This woman, parsimonious with her displays of affection, willingly courted her own death to defend him. A romance unlike any other, he thought with an inner smile.
“What do you want me to do?” she said. I want you to become my wife and share my bed for the rest of our lives.
The king doesn't get my stallion as a bonus.” “He shouldn't be getting my stallion either.” She glared at him as if he were the one who instigated all of this. A euphoric swoop of joy at her words bottomed out his stomach. He considered pulling her into his arms a second time but as that glare turned even hotter, he thought better of it.
“What is Serovek to you now, Anhuset?” Everything.
“The Anhuset who left Saggara to journey with Serovek Pangion isn't the same Anhuset who returned. Ildiko saw it. So did I. You love the margrave enough to willingly—eagerly—act his champion in a fight to the death. Do you love him enough to marry him?”
Too bad his steward wasn't in here with him right now. Serovek would cheerfully tear off Bryzant's arms and beat him to death with both.
the truth was she'd fallen in love with a handsome-ugly human man of immense courage and unwavering integrity.
What in the gods' names had she negotiated with the king? Not that he was complaining. If an arranged marriage with the woman who haunted his dreams was the punishment for his supposed crimes, he was more than happy to proclaim himself guilty.
“We live for those we love,” she told him in bast-Kai. “We die for those we love. This is a privilege, Serovek, not a sacrifice.”
An obvious change to the Kai and to Serovek. Anhuset had just told the king in front of thousands of his subjects to go fuck himself.
to inspect his shackles and froze when the metal cuff at his wrist slid back just enough to expose the now filthy but still recognizable length of once-white ribbon tied there.
A marriage proposal though, even one spurred on by a ploy or strategy, was altogether a different matter. A personal one. One that shortened his breath, made his heart beat fast and his soul light with joy. “Yes,” he said. “A thousand times over. Yes.”
“I'd swive you against this wall if you weren't armored to your back teeth and there wasn't a mob of thousands about to descend on us.” She smiled, her eyes bright with a firefly's glow in the dim hall.
“I want it to be real in every way. Do you?” Even the fear of having a scarpatine barb impale him didn't compare to the terror of waiting for her answer. The smile returned. “Yes. Very much.”
“I thought this went into a monastery midden. Why did you keep it?” Serovek could list a hundred reasons for why he kept it, but he gave her only the most important one. “Because it was proof your feelings for me had changed. There is no finer gift in all the world than the love of sha-Anhuset.”
I don't want you for my wife just to keep High Salure. It's just stones and mortar. Forfeiting it wouldn't be the end of the world. I want this marriage because I've loved you since I first set eyes on you in Saggara, so grim and beautiful.”
“Do you love me even half as much as I love you?” He pretended to consider. “Well...you did fight a giant scarpatine for me.” He yelped when her claws dug into his flank. He abandoned the teasing. “I love you with all that I am and for all the days of our existence, firefly woman.”
