Chapter 12

Wesson opened the door to the suite, and Rezkin followed him into the sitting room, heading straight for the bathing chamber. After wandering over to the sofa to lay down for a few minutes, Wesson noticed that it was already occupied. Celise’s head popped up as he peered down at her.

“Oh, you are here!” she said. “This is so great honor. My consort taken to be witness of queen’s marry night. I am sad you are not here, but is good for house.”

Wesson squinted as he tried to figure out her words. He was too tired to interpret poorly spoken Ashaiian at that moment.

He rubbed his tired eyes and said, “Why are you here, Celise?”

She smiled. “You are my consort.”

He sighed heavily. “I understand that you claimed me, but why are you here? Why did you not go back to wherever you live and sleep in your own bed?”

Her smile slipped as she worked through his words. Finally, she said, “You are not in my bed. I come here for you, but you are in queen’s bed.”

“No!” he blurted and then lowered his voice. “No, I mean. I was not in the queen’s bed.”

She thought about her words again and said, “You are in queen’s bedchamber?”

He ran a hand over his tired face and said, “Yes, that is true.”

He sunk into a high-backed chair and was just dozing off when one of the other doors swung open to emit Reaylin.

“You’re back! How was it? What happened?” she said as she rushed over and knelt beside his chair.

Wesson groaned. “I do not want to talk about it. Ever. I want to leave Lon Lerésh and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“No, Wess! You have to tell me something,” she said as she tugged at his arm.

Just then, Rezkin strode out of the bathing chamber wearing nothing but a drying cloth wrapped about his waist. His chest and back bore scratch and bite marks that reminded Wesson of the horrors he had witnessed all, night, long.

Rezkin closed his door behind him, and Reaylin turned back to Wesson with a questioning gaze.

He waved a hand toward Rezkin’s door in frustration and said, “Was that not enough? Please, Reaylin. I am tired. We are leaving in an hour. Let me rest.”

Celise popped up from the couch and said, “I go put things in bags and trunk.”

Wesson was suddenly more alert than he had been for the past six hours. “What? Why?”

Celise looked back at him as she opened the door. “We leave. I take the clothes.”

“What, no! You are staying here. Leréshi claims are not recognized outside of Lon Lerésh. You can stay here and claim a dozen men, and I am leaving.”

She shook her head and smiled. “My Wesson.” She came over to kneel at his other side and said, “I have finish all training for lessons in love making. I am very good. You will like. I will teach you. You are my consort. I leave with you.”

Then, she got up and left without a backward glance.

Once she was gone, Reaylin punched Wesson in the arm. “Hey, Wess, you got yourself a girlfriend.”

“Do you think I can convince Rezkin to leave a bit early? Maybe before she comes back?”

Reaylin said, “Come on. She’s cute, and it sounds like she really wants to make you happy.” This last she said with a wink.

“I know. I am sure she is great, but I want someone else.”

Reaylin nodded. “I heard, but you also said she is probably already married. Might as well move on.”

Reaylin returned to her room, presumably to pack, and Wesson fell asleep even before her door shut.

The ride back to the ship was tense. With the addition of Celise and Oledia, they required two carriages. Queen Erisial and her consort did not make an appearance that morning, and everyone was glad of that. Oledia was quiet. She looked much like her mother, with darker hair but the same honey-colored eyes. She had dressed in a long frock that would be considered acceptable in most places outside of Lon Lerésh. Celise had not. She was wearing a green bustier, a short, black skirt that barely reached her knees, and gold sandals with straps that wrapped around her ankles. Since Wesson refused to wear the red ribbon she had presented, she wore it for him, together with the green one for her mother’s house. She maintained that she was not yet ready to establish her own house.

It was obvious that Oledia and Celise had somehow developed a sisterly relationship, despite the difference in the way they were treated in their mother’s house. They chatted amicably, although Wesson did not understand a word of it. From their frequent glances his way, he assumed much of it was about him. Oledia was otherwise quiet and preferred to stare out the window in deep contemplation over engaging in conversation. To Wesson, she seemed more like a librarian than an assassin for the Adana’Ro.

Rezkin dismounted and turned to assist his companions from the carriages. Frisha would not take his hand nor would she look at him, and the other women seemed distant as they, too, avoided his gaze. He and Wesson had an unspoken agreement to never acknowledge the previous night, but Celise wanted everyone to know that her consort had served as witness to the queen’s matrimonial consummation.

Once everyone was free of the carriages and the ship’s crewmen had collected their bags and trunks, Rezkin bade Wesson and Yserria to wait with him and Oledia on the docks. Shezar strode down the gangplank to join them, and Rezkin was grateful for the striker’s professionalism. At least he would wait until information was offered, rather than pester him with needless questions. Reaylin convinced Celise to board the ship with them, and she seemed happy to have found acceptance with the other women. After the parade of soldiers and guards finally departed, those hidden in the shadows emerged into the light.

The blue-eyed secrelé smiled beneath her mask as she approached. Her comrades hurried forward to collect Oledia and her belongings, all of which were quickly ushered aboard a small cutter docked beside Stargazer. Despite the presence of the others, or perhaps because of it, the secrelé spoke in Ferélli. “You went to great lengths to bring us the daughter of the queen, First King of Lon Lerésh. I am impressed. You spent an entire night with a Leréshi queen and survived.”

Rezkin was having none of the woman’s flirtations that morning. He said, “You have the girl. Give me the sword as agreed.”

The woman tisked. “Testy this morning. Perhaps you are grumpy because you were forced to leave your matrimonial bed so soon.” She lost her playful demeanor. “We do not have the sword. The deal was for us to tell you where it is.”

“And?” Rezkin snapped.

“King Moldovan has it. It was he who paid us to take it in the first place.”

Rezkin eyed her suspiciously. “Moldovan hates you.”

She shrugged. “Yes, but it does not stop him from using our services when it suits him. If you want the sword, you will have to take it up with him.”

Once the woman had departed, Yserria said, “What did she say? Where is the sword?”

“We go back to Ferélle. We must meet with another monarch.”