The Way of Shadows
Page 97
The term “settling down” had been applied to Jenine’s brother, too. For the prince, it had meant that people thought he was finally leaving off his more obvious wenching and starting to assume some of the responsibilities of ruling. But Logan imagined that for Jenine, “settling down” probably meant she didn’t play tag in the castle anymore.
She was so different from Serah—and she was his wife.
“I’m—I was engaged to another woman this morning. A woman I loved for years . . . I still love her, Jenine. Can I call you that?”
“You may call me whatever pleases you, my lord husband.” Her voice was chilly. He’d hurt her. She was hurt, and for all the wrong reasons. Damn, she was young. But then, he hadn’t been the only one who’d been handed a lot of surprises in the last day.
“Have you ever been in love, Jenine?”
She considered his question with more gravity than he would have expected from a fifteen-year-old. “I’ve . . . liked boys.”
“It’s not the same,” Logan snapped. He regretted his tone instantly.
“Are you going to cheat on me?” She shot right back. “With her?”
It hit Logan between the eyes. This couldn’t be easy for Jenine, either. How must she feel, liking him, marrying him, knowing he was in love with someone else? Logan put his face in his hands. “I swore our wedding vows because the king asked me to, because the nation needed it. But I swore those vows, Jenine. I will be faithful to you. I will do my duty.”
“And your duty to produce an heir?” she asked.
The chill hadn’t thawed at all. He should have known better, but he answered. “Yes.”
She flopped on the bed, pulled her gown up roughly, and spread her legs. “Your duty awaits, my lord,” she said, turning her face away, staring at the wall.
“Jenine—look at me!” He covered her nakedness and—thank the gods—looked only at her face as he spoke, though even now her body cried out to him. It made him feel like an animal. “Jenine, I will be as good a husband as I can. But I can’t give you my heart. Not yet. I look at you and, and I feel wrong for wanting to make love to you. But you’re my wife! Dammit, it would be easier if you weren’t so—so damn beautiful! If I could just look at you without wanting to—to do what we’re supposed to do tonight. Do you understand?”
She obviously didn’t, but she sat back up and folded her legs under her. Abruptly she was a girl again, blushing for what she’d just done, but her eyes intent.
Logan threw his hands up. “I don’t blame you. I don’t understand it myself. It’s all so twisted up. Nothing makes sense since Aleine—”
“Please, don’t talk about my brother tonight. Please?”
“I’ve lost everything. Everything’s . . . everything’s wrong.” How could he be so selfish? He’d lost a friend, but she’d lost her big brother. She must be aching, too. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“No. I’m sorry,” Jenine said, her eyes teary but her gaze steady. “I’ve known for my whole life that I’d be married to whomever the country needed me to marry. I’ve tried not to even have crushes because I knew that my father might tell me any day that he needed me. I’ve been trying not to like you for two years. I know you think I’m a silly girl, but do you know who some of my potential husbands were? A Ceuran prince who likes boys, another who’s sixty, an Alitaeran who’s six, a Lodricari who doesn’t speak our language and already has two wives, Khalidorans who treat their women as chattel, and a Modaini who’s been twice widowed under suspicious circumstances.
“Then there was you. Everyone likes you. A good king would have made the match to heal the split between our families, but my father hates you. So I had to watch you, hear stories about you from my brother and from all the other girls, hear that you’re brave, you’re honorable, you’re loyal, you’re smart. My brother told me that you were the only man he knew who wouldn’t be intimidated by my mind. Do you know what it’s like to have to use small words and pretend not to understand things so you don’t get a bad reputation?”
Logan wasn’t sure he understood. Surely women never had to pretend not to be stupid. Did they?
“When I found out I was marrying you,” Jenine said, “it felt like all my little-girl dreams were coming true. Even with my father behaving like—and Serah—and Aleine . . . ” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, my lord husband. You’ve been honest with me. I know you didn’t ask for this. I’m sorry you had to lose her so I could have you. I know you’ve had a lot of bad surprises recently.” Her chin raised and she spoke like a princess. “But I’m going to do all I can to be a good surprise, my lord. I’m going to strive to be worthy of your love.”
By the gods, what a woman! Logan had looked at Jenine last night and seen breasts. He had seen her giggling with her friends and seen a child. He was a fool. Jenine Gunder—Jenine Gyre—was a princess born to be a queen. Her poise, her deliberate self-sacrifice, her strength awed him. He had hoped his wife might grow to become a good match for him. Now, he hoped that he might grow to become a match for this woman.
“And I’ll do all I can to make our love grow, Jenine,” Logan said. “I just—”
She put a finger on his lips. “Will you call me Jeni?”
“Jeni?” Logan touched the soft smooth skin of her cheek, and let his eyes roam over her body. I’m allowed to do this. I can do this. I should do this. “Jeni? May I kiss you?”
She abruptly became an uncertain girl again, until their lips met. Then, even with all her hesitations, uncertainty, and naïveté, to Logan she was all that was warm and soft and beautiful and loving in the world. She was all that was woman, and she was altogether lovely. His arms circled her and he pulled her close.
Some minutes later, Logan pulled away from her on the bed, turning his head toward the door.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
Hob-nailed boots pounded up the stairs outside the door. Lots of boots.
Not even pausing to pull on his clothes in the darkness, Logan rolled off Jenine and caught up his sword.
54
Regnus Gyre ducked back into a hallway as Brant Agon ran past with a dozen royal guards, and inexplicably, a few fat nobles.
“Long live the king! To the prince!” one of them yelled.
To the prince? The rumors must have been wrong then. Regnus had heard that Aleine Gunder had been murdered last night.
Had the lord general been alone, Regnus would have called out to his old friend, but not with Vin Arturian there. Vin was duty-bound to arrest Regnus, and he would, even if he didn’t like it.
There was shouting in the distance, toward the center of the castle, but Regnus couldn’t make out any words. Having so much happening that he didn’t understand made him anxious, but he could do nothing about whatever was happening elsewhere in the castle. He only had six men, none of them in armor. It had been hard enough to smuggle themselves in as servants and still bring swords. All he could hope to do was find Nalia and get her out of here.
The queen’s chambers were on the second floor of the castle in the northeast quarter. Regnus and his men had been walking through the castle nonchalantly, in two groups of three, trying not to attract the servants’ attention, but now he gestured sharply. His men gathered around him, and he started jogging.
She was so different from Serah—and she was his wife.
“I’m—I was engaged to another woman this morning. A woman I loved for years . . . I still love her, Jenine. Can I call you that?”
“You may call me whatever pleases you, my lord husband.” Her voice was chilly. He’d hurt her. She was hurt, and for all the wrong reasons. Damn, she was young. But then, he hadn’t been the only one who’d been handed a lot of surprises in the last day.
“Have you ever been in love, Jenine?”
She considered his question with more gravity than he would have expected from a fifteen-year-old. “I’ve . . . liked boys.”
“It’s not the same,” Logan snapped. He regretted his tone instantly.
“Are you going to cheat on me?” She shot right back. “With her?”
It hit Logan between the eyes. This couldn’t be easy for Jenine, either. How must she feel, liking him, marrying him, knowing he was in love with someone else? Logan put his face in his hands. “I swore our wedding vows because the king asked me to, because the nation needed it. But I swore those vows, Jenine. I will be faithful to you. I will do my duty.”
“And your duty to produce an heir?” she asked.
The chill hadn’t thawed at all. He should have known better, but he answered. “Yes.”
She flopped on the bed, pulled her gown up roughly, and spread her legs. “Your duty awaits, my lord,” she said, turning her face away, staring at the wall.
“Jenine—look at me!” He covered her nakedness and—thank the gods—looked only at her face as he spoke, though even now her body cried out to him. It made him feel like an animal. “Jenine, I will be as good a husband as I can. But I can’t give you my heart. Not yet. I look at you and, and I feel wrong for wanting to make love to you. But you’re my wife! Dammit, it would be easier if you weren’t so—so damn beautiful! If I could just look at you without wanting to—to do what we’re supposed to do tonight. Do you understand?”
She obviously didn’t, but she sat back up and folded her legs under her. Abruptly she was a girl again, blushing for what she’d just done, but her eyes intent.
Logan threw his hands up. “I don’t blame you. I don’t understand it myself. It’s all so twisted up. Nothing makes sense since Aleine—”
“Please, don’t talk about my brother tonight. Please?”
“I’ve lost everything. Everything’s . . . everything’s wrong.” How could he be so selfish? He’d lost a friend, but she’d lost her big brother. She must be aching, too. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“No. I’m sorry,” Jenine said, her eyes teary but her gaze steady. “I’ve known for my whole life that I’d be married to whomever the country needed me to marry. I’ve tried not to even have crushes because I knew that my father might tell me any day that he needed me. I’ve been trying not to like you for two years. I know you think I’m a silly girl, but do you know who some of my potential husbands were? A Ceuran prince who likes boys, another who’s sixty, an Alitaeran who’s six, a Lodricari who doesn’t speak our language and already has two wives, Khalidorans who treat their women as chattel, and a Modaini who’s been twice widowed under suspicious circumstances.
“Then there was you. Everyone likes you. A good king would have made the match to heal the split between our families, but my father hates you. So I had to watch you, hear stories about you from my brother and from all the other girls, hear that you’re brave, you’re honorable, you’re loyal, you’re smart. My brother told me that you were the only man he knew who wouldn’t be intimidated by my mind. Do you know what it’s like to have to use small words and pretend not to understand things so you don’t get a bad reputation?”
Logan wasn’t sure he understood. Surely women never had to pretend not to be stupid. Did they?
“When I found out I was marrying you,” Jenine said, “it felt like all my little-girl dreams were coming true. Even with my father behaving like—and Serah—and Aleine . . . ” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, my lord husband. You’ve been honest with me. I know you didn’t ask for this. I’m sorry you had to lose her so I could have you. I know you’ve had a lot of bad surprises recently.” Her chin raised and she spoke like a princess. “But I’m going to do all I can to be a good surprise, my lord. I’m going to strive to be worthy of your love.”
By the gods, what a woman! Logan had looked at Jenine last night and seen breasts. He had seen her giggling with her friends and seen a child. He was a fool. Jenine Gunder—Jenine Gyre—was a princess born to be a queen. Her poise, her deliberate self-sacrifice, her strength awed him. He had hoped his wife might grow to become a good match for him. Now, he hoped that he might grow to become a match for this woman.
“And I’ll do all I can to make our love grow, Jenine,” Logan said. “I just—”
She put a finger on his lips. “Will you call me Jeni?”
“Jeni?” Logan touched the soft smooth skin of her cheek, and let his eyes roam over her body. I’m allowed to do this. I can do this. I should do this. “Jeni? May I kiss you?”
She abruptly became an uncertain girl again, until their lips met. Then, even with all her hesitations, uncertainty, and naïveté, to Logan she was all that was warm and soft and beautiful and loving in the world. She was all that was woman, and she was altogether lovely. His arms circled her and he pulled her close.
Some minutes later, Logan pulled away from her on the bed, turning his head toward the door.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
Hob-nailed boots pounded up the stairs outside the door. Lots of boots.
Not even pausing to pull on his clothes in the darkness, Logan rolled off Jenine and caught up his sword.
54
Regnus Gyre ducked back into a hallway as Brant Agon ran past with a dozen royal guards, and inexplicably, a few fat nobles.
“Long live the king! To the prince!” one of them yelled.
To the prince? The rumors must have been wrong then. Regnus had heard that Aleine Gunder had been murdered last night.
Had the lord general been alone, Regnus would have called out to his old friend, but not with Vin Arturian there. Vin was duty-bound to arrest Regnus, and he would, even if he didn’t like it.
There was shouting in the distance, toward the center of the castle, but Regnus couldn’t make out any words. Having so much happening that he didn’t understand made him anxious, but he could do nothing about whatever was happening elsewhere in the castle. He only had six men, none of them in armor. It had been hard enough to smuggle themselves in as servants and still bring swords. All he could hope to do was find Nalia and get her out of here.
The queen’s chambers were on the second floor of the castle in the northeast quarter. Regnus and his men had been walking through the castle nonchalantly, in two groups of three, trying not to attract the servants’ attention, but now he gestured sharply. His men gathered around him, and he started jogging.
