turned her toward him. “I need you to be my interpreter with the
Seranimesti. Your insight would be invaluable to me right now.”
Ajalira bowed
slightly, though not enough to break his hold on her. She smelled like ginger,
a strong, arousing scent. Kamen looked her over again, appreciating all he saw.
She was tall—taller than Sunjaa women—fair, and proud.
“ I serve you.” Ajalira bowed again, but she would not look at Kamen.
Kamen released
her. “I don't want a servant. I want a friend.”
These words
brought Ajalira's searching gaze back to his face. He watched the war within
her, one he knew she would have to conquer if there was to be any hope between
them. Kamen wanted to ask her so many things, about her arrival on the Dimadan
and about her years there, but he was out of time.
“ Will you interpret for me?” It was deliberately phrased as a
request.
“ Yes.”
They entered the
throne room together. King Jahen was already seated on his ebony throne, his
hands tapping the tops of the images of his father's and grandfather's heads.
Three slaves stood nearby, and the boy looked bored. Once he saw Kamen,
however, his eyes lit up, and he ran to his Regent.
“ Tell me all about it!” The boy-king leaped into Kamen's strong arms.
Kamen laughed.
“Behavior hardly befitting a King.”
Jahen smiled.
“But fitting for a boy going to his guardian. It’s why I had your symbol
changed to a falcon.”
“True enough. A
cat would hardly suffice in my current role.” Kamen put Jahen down and snapped
his fingers. The slaves scurried over and saw to readjusting Jahen's skirt,
necklace, and wig. “Your finest ship—”
“ The Aramina , my mother.” Jahen glanced at Ajalira, and he
must have seen her horns, for he continued to stare.
“ Yes, and just as proud and lovely as she,” Kamen said. “The Aramina forced the Ausir to stand down, and we rounded them all up and took them to the
Dimadan. They've promised not to disturb your waters again.”
“ You gave them a thrashing, then? Good.” Jahen pointed at Ajalira.
“Who's she?”
“ Your court interpreter.” Kamen indicated her with a bow and a
flourish.
Jahen studied
her. “But I've already got one. Saerileth.”
“ Yes, but she is often gone with her master out to sea.”
“ Not now. She's already here.” Jahen pointed over to the recessed
area where he liked to play when not sitting on his throne. Saerileth sat on
the couch in her dark blue Lotus skirt and pallav watching them all. She
scrutinized Kamen as she always did, and though Kamen could not read her—she
had consummate impassivity—he no longer feared her silent analyses. He was no
longer in love with Darien. Saerileth's piercing gaze would only find his
growing affection for Ajalira. He wanted to reach over and take his lovely
Ausir's hand, but he dared not in the present situation.
Saerileth stood
and glided over, and Kamen noticed how Ajalira's eyes shifted from green to
blue, hard as flint and cold as the heart of the sea. Doubtless the full-blown
Lotus tattoo, the traditional Lotus garb, and the fact that Saerileth was Zenji
angered Ajalira.
“ Greetings, Your Grace.” Saerileth bowed to Kamen.
“ It's been many months,” Kamen said.
“ I see you have a new interpreter.” Saerileth looked past Kamen to
where Ajalira stood.
Kamen extended
his arm toward the Ausir. “Ajalira—” He did not know her last name. Did she
have a last name?
“ From the Red Lotus Guild.” Saerileth stared at Ajalira's unfinished
tattoo on her forearm.
“ That place no longer has any hold over my body,” Ajalira said in
accented but correct Zenji. Her tone cut glass.
“ I see.” Saerileth's gaze flitted up to Ajalira's horns.
Before any words
could be said that either of the women might have regretted, Kamen broke in.
“The Seranimesti await. Your Majesty.” He indicated the throne.
Jahen walked
over to the dais, climbed the steps, and sat down. Kamen took his seat on
Seranimesti. Your insight would be invaluable to me right now.”
Ajalira bowed
slightly, though not enough to break his hold on her. She smelled like ginger,
a strong, arousing scent. Kamen looked her over again, appreciating all he saw.
She was tall—taller than Sunjaa women—fair, and proud.
“ I serve you.” Ajalira bowed again, but she would not look at Kamen.
Kamen released
her. “I don't want a servant. I want a friend.”
These words
brought Ajalira's searching gaze back to his face. He watched the war within
her, one he knew she would have to conquer if there was to be any hope between
them. Kamen wanted to ask her so many things, about her arrival on the Dimadan
and about her years there, but he was out of time.
“ Will you interpret for me?” It was deliberately phrased as a
request.
“ Yes.”
They entered the
throne room together. King Jahen was already seated on his ebony throne, his
hands tapping the tops of the images of his father's and grandfather's heads.
Three slaves stood nearby, and the boy looked bored. Once he saw Kamen,
however, his eyes lit up, and he ran to his Regent.
“ Tell me all about it!” The boy-king leaped into Kamen's strong arms.
Kamen laughed.
“Behavior hardly befitting a King.”
Jahen smiled.
“But fitting for a boy going to his guardian. It’s why I had your symbol
changed to a falcon.”
“True enough. A
cat would hardly suffice in my current role.” Kamen put Jahen down and snapped
his fingers. The slaves scurried over and saw to readjusting Jahen's skirt,
necklace, and wig. “Your finest ship—”
“ The Aramina , my mother.” Jahen glanced at Ajalira, and he
must have seen her horns, for he continued to stare.
“ Yes, and just as proud and lovely as she,” Kamen said. “The Aramina forced the Ausir to stand down, and we rounded them all up and took them to the
Dimadan. They've promised not to disturb your waters again.”
“ You gave them a thrashing, then? Good.” Jahen pointed at Ajalira.
“Who's she?”
“ Your court interpreter.” Kamen indicated her with a bow and a
flourish.
Jahen studied
her. “But I've already got one. Saerileth.”
“ Yes, but she is often gone with her master out to sea.”
“ Not now. She's already here.” Jahen pointed over to the recessed
area where he liked to play when not sitting on his throne. Saerileth sat on
the couch in her dark blue Lotus skirt and pallav watching them all. She
scrutinized Kamen as she always did, and though Kamen could not read her—she
had consummate impassivity—he no longer feared her silent analyses. He was no
longer in love with Darien. Saerileth's piercing gaze would only find his
growing affection for Ajalira. He wanted to reach over and take his lovely
Ausir's hand, but he dared not in the present situation.
Saerileth stood
and glided over, and Kamen noticed how Ajalira's eyes shifted from green to
blue, hard as flint and cold as the heart of the sea. Doubtless the full-blown
Lotus tattoo, the traditional Lotus garb, and the fact that Saerileth was Zenji
angered Ajalira.
“ Greetings, Your Grace.” Saerileth bowed to Kamen.
“ It's been many months,” Kamen said.
“ I see you have a new interpreter.” Saerileth looked past Kamen to
where Ajalira stood.
Kamen extended
his arm toward the Ausir. “Ajalira—” He did not know her last name. Did she
have a last name?
“ From the Red Lotus Guild.” Saerileth stared at Ajalira's unfinished
tattoo on her forearm.
“ That place no longer has any hold over my body,” Ajalira said in
accented but correct Zenji. Her tone cut glass.
“ I see.” Saerileth's gaze flitted up to Ajalira's horns.
Before any words
could be said that either of the women might have regretted, Kamen broke in.
“The Seranimesti await. Your Majesty.” He indicated the throne.
Jahen walked
over to the dais, climbed the steps, and sat down. Kamen took his seat on
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