Cursed by Fire: The Immortal Brothers Page 19

  Breathless, she looked around and saw the children had stopped weaving and were watching them with interest. Flustered, she stepped back again and smoothed her hands down her skirt.

  “You presume a lot,” she whispered heatedly. “It does not stand to reason that I would welcome that touch now or later.”

  That made him laugh, a knowing glint in his clover-green eyes.

  “You would. And you would ask for more shortly after,” he said with wicked confidence.

  She gasped and her skin went even hotter than it already was. “Stop saying such things to me!” she demanded.

  “Why? Do they offend you … or tempt you?”

  Oh, they tempted her all right, but she wasn’t about to admit to it, nor was she going to give it voice in public. He was right; anyone could be watching. If Grannish knew she was granting favors to another man … who knew what fresh hell he would deliver to her for it.

  “Children,” she said loudly, turning her back on Dethan in a silent end to their conversation, “it’s almost time for the evening meal. Go to the kitchens and take your meals home with you. Cook will have prepared them all.”

  “So you feed them as well?” Dethan queried.

  “It’s only one meal,” she said defensively. “Sometimes it’s the only meal they will have for the day. As it is, they will take it home and share it with their families. And believe me, it isn’t enough to feed more than two people. I try, but …”

  “Grannish?” he supplied.

  She turned to face him. “That and the Redoe. Supplies are limited, even for us.”

  “And yet you have a fair,” he said with disapproval.

  “The fair keeps people entertained and gives them a short amount of happiness in an otherwise unhappy city,” she said defensively. “It helps tradesmen sell a little more and gives the children something to do.”

  He thought about it for a moment, then gave her a nod. “Very well. What do you like to do at the fair, besides watch the fights?”

  She frowned. “That was not my idea. Grannish likes blood sport; I do not.”

  “And yet you ask me to organize bloodshed. I find that contrary.”

  Exasperated by the conflux of emotions this man was flinging at her, she huffed out a sigh and put her hands on her hips. “Is there nothing I do that meets with your approval?” she demanded of him.

  He looked at her. Really looked at her. As in touched his eyes to the top of her head, then dropped them ever so slowly down the entire length of her body. She was flushed all over again by the time he said “Yes.”

  “W-well, what, then?” she asked, even though she knew she shouldn’t. But even though she might not like the answer, she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

  “I find you … to be as a ruler should be. Caring for her people. What’s more, your people know that you care for them. But they also know you are powerless. I wonder, how is it that Grannish does not stop you from doing this?” He indicated the floor that was still littered with weaving materials. Servants had just begun to gather them up.

  “He … he allows me these small privileges … so that he has something to take away from me. To punish me.”

  Dethan frowned. He frowned because he knew she was right. Because he knew it was an intolerable way to live. Every moment of every day she was negotiating a field of spears. Never knowing when she might slip the wrong way and allow Grannish to stab through her.

  “It will get worse before it gets better,” he warned her needlessly. “But I promise you it will get better.”

  She looked up at him, seemingly measuring him. “We shall see. I hope you are right.” Then she added, “I hope it with all my heart.”

  “Selinda.” He moved forward again, reaching to touch his thumb to the corner of her lips, his fingers drifting over her jawline. She went to shy away when he touched her scar, but he wouldn’t let her. He made her look up into his serious eyes. “You can trust me to do this thing. I have conquered worlds. I will conquer the Redoe and then … then I will conquer you.”

  Selinda’s breath caught and an unimaginable heat washed over her at the very idea. He leaned closer to her and she found herself lifting her chin, realizing that she was craving his kiss, was hoping he would kiss her right then. But it was a dangerous desire. Not just because they were out in the open. She had to be careful. She could not allow her emotions to get tangled up in this affair. She would only be inviting heartache. He was a man of purpose. He had goals. None of them, she knew, had anything to do with romantic feelings. He did not seem the sort to talk of things like love and affection. She needed to be careful and guard her heart.

  Not that she would have to worry about such a thing. She had never been in love. She had always been too levelheaded for such fanciful notions. She had known even from a young age that love would not be a part of her marriage. Her marriage would be one of political import. That was just the way it was for the children of the grand. Her sisters and brothers would have met the same fate … had they but lived.

  The thought made her sad and made it easier for her to draw away from him. He dropped his hand, sensing her withdrawal.

  “My words mean little to you, and that is as it should be. So watch my actions, little juquil. They will speak louder than anything I could possibly say. Now, I am to meet with your father before eventide meal.”

  She drew in a quick breath. “What will you say to him? You must be careful! He shares everything with Grannish. He trusts him so implicitly. It’s not his fault. He simply—”

  “It is his fault,” Dethan said in a hard, harsh tone. “His blindness to the plight of his people is most certainly his fault. Not to mention the blindness to the plight of his daughter.”

  Selinda realized there was nothing to say to contradict him, and it hurt her heart to know it. She did not want to think ill of her father, had made up excuses for him all throughout, but deep inside herself she had been angry with him for his actions and his inactions. It angered her that she could not find any arguments to defend him.

  “Do not judge my father too harshly,” she snapped, even though she agreed with him. “He is a good man.”

  “A good man does not necessarily make a good leader. But I will not speak ill of him if it upsets you.”

  The kindness took her by surprise and took the stormy wind out of her anger. Once her anger abandoned her, she found a rushing sting of tears pricking at her eyes.

  No, she told herself sternly, you will not do this. You will not be some weak, emotional woman. Not in front of him. Not in front of anyone.

  “I only ask that you be watchful. Have a care for his safety. I fear what Grannish might do if he feels he is losing control of him. He … he favors poison …” She trailed off as a cold sickness ran beneath her skin.

  “And you know this how?”

  “Firsthand,” she told him on a whisper.

  “He poisoned you?”

  “I have no proof, but … I was taken ill and he said things that led me to believe it was him. In my heart, I have no doubt it was him.”

  “You should trust your instincts. I will do the same. I will do my best to protect your father and your brother, but I do not have the power to protect everyone. I am one man pitted against a man with a network of others to do his work for him. As it stands, protecting you is my main concern.”

  “Then you should not ask me to come to you at night,” she said in a heated whisper. “At any moment I could be caught and I—”

  “Are you reneging on our bargain already?” he asked, his tone serious, but in his eyes she thought she saw some kind of amusement. It frustrated her.

  “No, of course not! I have made a promise to you and I will keep it!”

  “Good.” Again he lifted his hand to her. This time his fingertips stroked along the side of her neck. “I must prove my ability as a lover to you. You must give me that opportunity.”

  “What if I told you I do not need for you to prove it? That I am willi
ng to take your word for it that you are … that you are …”

  “A good lover?” he supplied helpfully.

  “Yes,” she said, her hand coming up to press against her blushing cheek.

  “No, little juquil, you will not escape me that easily. Nor will you consign yourself to a lifetime with a man who cannot please you. And then there is the other side of the coin. I will not consign myself to a lifetime with a woman who cannot please me. So you will come to my chambers tonight and every night,” he said, moving closer to her until her head was tipped back and his breath was mingling with hers. There was something in his eyes, something fierce and hot as he met her gaze. “I confess,” he said softly, “I look forward to it more and more.”

  “Please.” She gasped, broke from him, and stepped back. “If someone should see us …” She glanced around the antechamber, but everyone had long since left the room.

  Dethan realized she was right, and he really knew better than to tempt Grannish with reasons to lash out at her, but he found it difficult to keep his distance from her. As time ticked on, this pull he felt toward her grew stronger and ever hotter. He did not understand it fully. Even though it had been such a long time since he had known the pleasures of the flesh, he remembered what craving and arousal felt like. But this went beyond what he remembered somehow.

  No, he thought with an internal shake of his head. It has just been so very long and you are newly rediscovering what it means to desire a woman. That is all.

  “You are correct. Forgive me the impulsivity,” he said aloud to her. “I will curtail it in the future.”

  With that, he turned and left her.

  And Selinda felt a wave of regret wash over her. She did not want him to endanger her with his advances, but the idea of robbing herself of them … In spite of herself, it made her feel cheated.

  Yet another pleasure Grannish was taking away from her, she thought bitterly as she watched him go.

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  As he headed for the grand’s governing chamber, Dethan wondered what had gotten into him. He knew how dangerous it could be if he showed partiality to Selinda when they were in public, but it had almost been as though he couldn’t help himself.

  No. He could help himself, he thought fiercely. He was not the kind of man who was a slave to his whims or emotions.

  Not true. If your brothers are involved …

  Yes. Then he was quite capable of rendering emotion. He had always had a bit of a blind spot when it came to his brothers. He had done many a heedless thing in order to see to their well-being. Even now he was struggling through this with the ultimate goal of finding some way to rescue his brothers from their torment. He shuddered when he thought of them suffering as he had done. It would be nothing to him to go back to his place in the hells if it meant freeing one of them instead.

  But that was not going to be the way of it and this way he had hopes of freeing all three of them eventually. All he need do was stay focused on winning this city in Weysa’s name. That meant controlling his impulses when it came to the grandina.

  He was wise enough to admit that it was not going to be a simple request to make of himself. For all his worldly experience and his iron will, she was an incredible temptation. It must be, he thought, because he had been so long without the comforts of a woman.

  But comfort was just the beginning of it, he admitted to himself. As much as her ministrations in the night gave him surcease, it was what happened when he was in his full vitality that most compelled and tempted him. She was so fine a woman, in so many ways. She thought herself weak, but he saw just how strong she was. She was intelligent and caring of her people. And … and she was lush and beautiful and all too alluring. There was something about her, she of the fey, imperfectly beautiful face and slender and strong figure. She carried around a full weight of clothing with ease and grace, and yet there was something inherently sexual in her carriage. It worried him. If Grannish ever got over the flaw of her scars, he might see beyond it and realize just how desirable she was. She was full-breasted, full-hipped, and made for loving. He had seen and felt it all, and yet hadn’t even begun to touch her.

  And touch her he would. He would claim her body and, through it, her throne. That was the only reason, he tried to tell himself. She was a means to an end. His desire to protect her was his desire to protect the only avenue of peacefully gaining control of this city. He was not afraid of war, but he had always been wise enough to avoid it whenever possible. A man of intelligence could just as easily defeat a city as a man of war could.

  He reached the chamber doors and thundered his fist against the heavy, carved wood. A page opened it, scuttling back quickly afterward. Dethan strode into the chamber and immediately saw the grand … and Grannish by his side.

  Of course. Dethan had known it would not be so easy to extract the grand from Grannish’s watchful eye.

  “I thought we were meeting in private,” he said immediately to the grand.

  “Oh, it’s all right. I trust Grannish with all information.”

  “Then we have nothing to talk about,” Dethan said. He gave the grand a short, respectful bow and turned to leave the room.

  “Are you afraid of scrutiny?” Grannish called out mockingly.

  “Here now, return to me!” the grand commanded.

  Dethan had no choice but to stop and turn around. “As you wish,” he said, returning to a position before the grand. “But you will find me silent in the presence of others.”

  “I will only relate the information afterward to Grannish, so what difference does it make?” the grand asked almost peevishly.

  “All the more reason to keep my own council. You said I could rout the Redoe in whatever way I chose. I will do so. But experience has taught me that sharing my plans of war with too many others can be as good as relating them to the enemy. There are eyes and ears everywhere. If you wish to be rid of the Redoe, then you must trust me.”

  “But you do not trust me? Or your grand? I wonder what it is I’ve done to have given you such a low opinion of me.”

  “Let’s just say I do not trust anyone and leave it at that,” Dethan said. It took a great deal of restraint not to list Grannish’s crimes right then, but he needed to bide his time. Needed to earn the grand’s good opinion.

  “Then what did you wish to discuss with me, if not your plans?”

  “My payment,” Dethan said.

  “You will have your gold.”

  “I have decided gold is not enough. If you want the Redoe routed, then you must pay me the price I ask.”

  “And that is?” Grannish asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  “The grandina. I ask for her hand in mine. I want her to wife.”

  “What?” Grannish exploded, lurching forward, his hand going to the pommel of the sword at his waist. “You presumptuous bastard! That is my bride you speak of!”

  “And how will you care for her when this city crumbles to dust under the boots of the Redoe? I have had more time to assess the situation. Did you know the Redoe are undermining your walls as we speak?”

  “What do you mean?” the grand asked, suddenly alarmed. He sat up straighter in his seat. “Grannish, is this true?”

  “No, of course not,” Grannish scoffed. “He is trying to alarm you in order to get what he wants!”

  “I can prove it to you,” Dethan said mildly. “But if you’d rather continue this approach, in which if you pretend it isn’t happening it might go away on its own, then by all means …”

  “The Redoe never try to breach the city,” the grand said hesitantly. “They simply take over the fields, and once the crops have matured, they take what they need for their winter stores and then leave for their dwellings!”

  “Well, apparently they are tired of feeding off your lands and walking away. They want something more, and an apathetic city waiting to be overrun is a perfect target.”

  “Who in the eight hells do you think
you are?” Grannish roared, stepping forward again and half drawing his blade, the unmistakable sound of it filling the air.

  “I warn you, now,” Dethan said quietly, “if you draw that blade, only one of us will be left standing at the end of it.”

  “You aren’t even armed,” Grannish scoffed.

  “I will be once I take your blade off you,” Dethan said, again that quiet menace in his words.

  “Enough!” the grand said abruptly, lurching out of his seat and stepping between the two men. “Dethan, if what you say is true, if my city truly is on the brink of invasion, then you shall have what you want.”

  “Luzien! She is promised to me!” Grannish was tight with his fury. He did not want to sound like a whining, spoiled child being asked to share his favorite toy, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Everything, every last one of his plans rested on his marrying that gnarled hag. As unpalatable as she was, he would readily take her and all the power that would come with her. How could it be that in the matter of a mere couple of days his entire future, all his power, was under threat? And all because of this one man? This filthy beggar posing as a general? “You cannot simply break a betrothal!”

  “Why not?” The grand stopped his progress suddenly and turned so he was barely a pace from Grannish’s face. “If you recall, I am grand here and my word is law. My daughter is mine to do with as I please. Her marriage is to gain as much benefit for this city as is possible. Up until moments ago I thought marrying her to you would be that best benefit. However, if what Sor Dethan says is true, then I am forced to recognize that my faith in your abilities might be overzealous. I never thought I would see the day when I would say that. I have had many people come to me and try to undermine you in their jealousy of your position and power, and I have shut them all out. I have always felt that my faith in you has been well placed, and because of that you have been rewarded handsomely for your services. But if this city is in imminent threat and it has escaped the notice of you or your little pet general, then Sor Dethan must be tempted to stay and fight for our survival, and if Selinda is that temptation, then so be it. Now, Sor Dethan, if you would be so kind as to show me your proof of this …”