Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [39]
She would not feel guilty. Surely she couldn’t be blamed for wanting Selene to be happy and free. She would not let the massacre at Jedha poison her joy that Selene would be with her soon. She would do all she could for the survivors of Jedha, but she could not make the—
Ware was still in the Great Hall.
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting in the high-backed chair before the fire, his legs sprawled in front of him, gazing into the flames.
He’s the loneliest man I’ve ever known, Kadar had said.
If he was lonely, she could not help it. She was not Kadar, who could amuse and venture where others feared to tread.
She turned toward the door that led to the scullery and servants’ quarters.
You will care for my possession and I will care for yours.
But not tonight, when she was so tired she could barely think. Tomorrow would do as well.
He grieves.
By what sorcery had Kadar planted those words in her mind? she thought with exasperation. She would pay no attention to—
“By all the saints,” she muttered as she marched into the Great Hall to stand before Ware. “Go to bed.”
He slowly lifted his head. “What?”
“You heard me. You look foolish sitting here brooding. Go to your bed and go to sleep.”
“Foolish,” he repeated, glowering at her.
“Foolish and stubborn and without sense.”
“Then leave my presence so that you don’t have to look at me.”
“Do you think I don’t want to do that? Kadar won’t let me. He says I must take care of you.”
“Oh, my God.”
“But I’m too tired to be bothered with this tonight, so go to your bed and let me worry about it tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you,” he said silkily. “But I appreciate the tender thought.”
“You don’t want tenderness, and it is an inconvenience. I don’t even know how to go about this.”
“Then don’t go about it. I don’t need either your care or your concern.”
“That’s what I told Kadar. He wouldn’t listen.”
“He seldom does, one must just ignore him.”
“I can’t ignore him. He’s doing me a great service and must be repaid.”
“Then repay him some other way. I’ll not have another clucking hen at my heels.” He poured more wine into his goblet. “Leave me.”
“Are you drunk yet?”
“No.” He lifted the goblet. “But soon.”
“Good, then maybe you’ll fall asleep and I can have the servants take you to your bed.” She sat down on the hearth and leaned back against the stones. “I’ll wait.”
He scowled. “I don’t want you to wait. Leave me.”
“Drink your wine. These stones are hard.”
He crashed the goblet down on the table. “I’ll drink when I please.”
“I said the wrong thing.” She yawned. “I should have realized you’d be contrary. All right, don’t drink your wine.”
He picked up the goblet and then stopped, frowning as he realized the dilemma. “Christ, now what am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you like.”
He smiled sensually. “Then take off your gown and come here.”
She was too weary to feel anything but impatience. “Why? The wine will do as well as a woman for your needs now. Besides, that’s not what Kadar wanted of me.”
His smile vanished. “I’m growing bored hearing what Kadar wanted.”
“Then drink your wine and go to sleep.”
He muttered an obscenity and then was silent. The only sound in the Great Hall was the crackle of the logs in the fireplace.
“What did he want of you?” Ware growled.
“I’m not sure. He was a little vague,” she said drowsily. “I’ll have to think about it.”
Another silence.
“Go to bed,” he said harshly. “You’re going to fall asleep any minute and tumble into that fire.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t need Kadar and I don’t need you.”
“I know.”
“Then leave me.”
She shook her head. She wished he would be quiet. Talking was too much effort. “Drink your wine.”
“I will not drink my wine.”
“Very well.” Her lids were so heavy, she could barely keep them open. “Whatever you…”
“Christ.”
He was picking her up, carrying her.
Climbing the stairs.
No, that was wrong….
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking you to your bed, where you belong.”
“Haroun is in my bed. I’m sleeping in Jasmine’s bed.