Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [156]
She stepped back from the chair so fast she almost stumbled. Horror filled her, bringing with it a sweep of anger, defiance, and fear. “No.”
“Yes,” he said, limping slowly forward. “Protest all you want, but we will be wed.”
Elandra lifted her chin, breathing hard, defiance giving her strength. “Not while I live,” she said. “I will never enter your bed. Never!”
Amusement crossed his face, surprising and dismaying her. She had wanted to insult him, not make him laugh at her.
“Very spirited,” he said appreciatively, in a way that made her blood run cold. “Very becoming. You must know that when you lose your temper, your beauty increases twofold.”
Glaring at him, Elandra backed up again. “Get away from me.
He stopped, but the smile still lingered on his face. It was a cruel smile, one without mercy. “I remember when you first came to Imperia on one of your father’s elephants. You were a shy, trembling maiden, hiding behind your veil, hardly daring to lift your eyes to anyone. And now you defy me like a warrior queen, proud and fearless, your eyes flashing like magnificent jewels. You have changed, Elandra.”
“Yes, I have changed,” she said, thinking of the past year in her life and its many hard lessons. “I had no choice.”
“Oh, I think we can simplify this. You were a well-behaved, biddable maiden, incredibly modest while you were married to my father, very obedient and anxious to please.”
Elandra glared at him, resenting his patronizing tone, hating the way he smirked as he said those things.
“But now you are stubborn and defiant. You refuse to be sensible. You are taking a dreadful risk by insulting me.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know.” He looked at her and nodded. “You are in love, are you not?”
Again heat flamed in her face. She bit her lip, knowing her expression had given her away.
“Yes,” he said, and his eyes were like stones. “You are in love with that musclebound brute in my dungeons.”
“It is no secret,” Elandra said. She tossed her head. “Yes, I love him. I say it proudly and without shame.”
“Oh, he is the type to catch a woman’s eye,” Tirhin said. “But you must learn to conduct your liaisons with more discretion.”
“Caelan is not a liaison,” she said furiously.
“But of course he is. I do not condemn you for your amusements, my dear, but the people are more old-fashioned than we. There will be other slaves, handsome ones, in a succession that never has to end, as long as you are sensible.”
“Stop it!” she said, stamping her foot. She loathed what he was saying, what he was implying.
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Elandra,” Tirhin said, watching her with cat-cold eyes. “Your honesty has always been your most striking virtue.”
“I am not playing some lascivious game with Caelan,” she said. “I am wedded to him.”
Tirhin blinked, looking stunned. For a moment he stood statue-still, staring at her, with all the ruin of his ambitions plain to see in his face. Then rage filled his eyes.
His cane whistled out without warning, and would have struck her if she had not dodged. It hit the chair instead with a vicious thud. Elandra retreated behind the desk, acutely conscious that he was between her and the door. Never taking her eyes off him, she reached for her sleeve knife.
But Tirhin stopped his advance. His eyes narrowed, and he studied her as though he had never seen her before. Calm seeped back into his face, and it became an unreadable mask.
“It is something easily said, this marriage you claim. Do you have proof?”
“Only my word,” she replied.
He snorted. “Alas, that is insufficient. Who spoke the words of binding over you? The priest can be traced.”
“There was no priest,” she said. “We exchanged the vows for ourselves.”
Tirhin threw back his head and laughed. “A common-consent marriage?” he asked, when at last he could speak again. He wiped his eyes and laughed again. “Gods, what need have I to hire entertainment