Beneath a Midnight Moon

Selene rested her hands on the arms of the throne and smiled. At last she was where she had always wanted to be.



She glanced down at her gown of spun cloth of gold, at the rings glittering on her fingers, the wide gold band on her left wrist. There was a bejeweled crown on her head, a rope of pearls around her neck. And in her chambers there were boxes and boxes of jewels, of gold, of silver. The wealth of the kingdom. And it was hers.



She slid a glance at Renick, seated on the throne beside hers. He would have been a handsome man but for the scar on his left cheek. Still, he possessed an air of virility, a latent sense of danger, that excited her. She had been his wife for nearly a month now, and she knew the shape of his body, the texture of his short blond hair, the way his icy blue eyes blazed with desire when he took her in his arms.



She knew the touch of his hands upon her willing flesh.



She toyed impatiently with a fold in her skirt, waiting for him to finish the business at hand. Spies had recently returned from Argone and she was anxious to hear the news.



Earlier, she had listened intently as Renick conferred with the minister of war, silently agreeing with every decision her husband made. When the time was right, when their army had been gathered together, when their allies had arrived, they would attack Hardane and the riches of Argone would be theirs.



Renick had indicated it might be necessary to dispose of Kylene as well as Hardane. He had looked at her closely, his cold blue eyes probing deep into her soul, as he awaited her reply. She knew he had expected her to shrink from such a possibility, to object to anything that would harm her sister, but then, he didn't know she had once tried to drown Kylene in the bathtub. She had met his level gaze with one of her own.



You must do whatever is necessary, my husband, she had replied.



At first, he had been stunned by her answer, and then he had smiled, obviously pleased to learn that they were much alike.



She glanced at him again. They were well suited, she mused. Both sure of what they wanted. Neither afraid to do what had to be done. The day after Bourke's funeral, his two-year-old daughter had been sent from the castle, given into the care of a farmer and his wife who had been warned that their lives would be forfeit should they ever divulge the child's identity.



Soon, Selene thought, soon she would rule the countries of Mouldour and Argone. With Renick at her side, nothing and no one would be able to stop her.