Chapter 12
“You have not asked this of me before. Nobody has asked me who I am. I’m an insignificant Karthlander—a woman. Why do you fear me?” she asked.
“She has not said who she is, Carissian. What does this mean?”
“She says she taught herself to swim.”
“Mortals cannot swim!” The prince paced. “Put her in my bath.”
“What of her wounds?”
“Have my healer look at her injuries. I want to see her swim.”
The servant was dispatched to find the healer, and Carissian said, “Since you cannot tell us your birthplace, where did you live before we found you at the lake?”
“Texas.” Tashama reached for a slice of bread. She savored the scent of garlic-soaked butter coating the bread, then took a bite. “Hmm, the food here is very good.”
“Does she speak the truth?”
Carissian nodded.
“I know of no such place. Why will she not tell us what she is called?”
Tashama ignored the prince as she sucked the flavored butter from her fingertips. Then she lay back down on the pillows. “Are you not hungry?” she asked the prince.
Carissian leaned against the edge of the desk. “You’ve never been kissed before.”
“What an odd thing to say to me. Of course, I’ve been kissed before.”
Carissian eyes grew hard as he studied hers. She shook her head. “Quit trying to read my mind!”
“What is it, Carissian?” The prince tensed. “Who is she?”
“She has not been kissed before by a young man, but family members have kissed her. There was someone, I couldn’t see, who wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to her.
But her thoughts drifted back to an earlier time, and I could see a hazy memory of her mother and father kissing her cheeks. She has not seen them for many years.”
Tashama grabbed her goblet from the servant. “You do not play fair!” She drank the remainder of the cup, then lay back down.
The servant glanced over at the prince, who motioned for him to refill the goblet. Then Carissian said, “I asked you before if you were a sorceress, but you answered me with a question. I ask again, do you meddle in sorcery?”
Tashama motioned to a servant to bring her a slice of fish. She lifted the white meat to her lips, then savored the lemon-pepper flavored filet. “I answered—do you think I am?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Okay, I’m not a sorceress.”
The sorcerer rubbed his chin, then shook his head. “You seem to be telling the truth in part, but a human cannot block her thoughts from me as you’re capable of doing.”
“Yet you say mortals cannot swim. I swim, so therefore I must be immortal.”
“You are not immortal!” the prince said.
“No, Prince Aleron, I am not.”
“You cannot swim!”
Fine lines beneath her eyes appeared as a smile stretched across her face, like the sun’s rays shining on a peach-colored morning.
The healer walked into the room, and the prince motioned to Tashama. “Tell me if she can enter the bath.” The healer stared at the prince. “Tell me!”
The healer knelt at her feet and unwrapped the cloth binding them. “How are your ribs feeling this afternoon?”
“You have healed them, healer, and I thank you for your kindness.”
The healer pulled off the bandage of her left foot and shook his head. “She needs to keep her feet dry for at least another day while the wounds heal.”
“Another day?” the prince said.
“Yes, sire. In another day, I believe her feet will be well-healed.”
“Leave us.”
The healer rewrapped her foot, then hurried out of the room.
“You have been saved from the bath for the moment.” He sat down on the pillows and waved for a goblet of wine. He drank the entire goblet of wine.
“Do you always drink your wine so quickly?” She stretched her arms above her head. “It would all go to my head.” The sorcerer smiled. “But my thoughts would be unclear for you to read.”
“So we’ve found,” Carissian said.
The prince studied her hair, then turned and waved for a servant. The servant offered him the tray of cheese and apples. The prince picked up a slice of cheese. He bit into it as Tashama touched his free hand. She frowned.
Carissian’s brows furrowed as he leaned forward. “What are you attempting to do?”
“Nothing, sorcerer.” Tashama lay back down.
Carissian shook his head, then walked over to the pillows as the prince and Tashama stared up at him. “What is it, Carissian?” the prince asked.
“She was trying to read you somehow.”
She rested her hands on her waist and nestled her head on a plump purple pillow. The prince stared at her, then touched his fingers to her hand. “By touching me? What could she read?”
“I’m not certain.”
“What were you doing?” the prince asked Tashama.
“I have the gift. Did you not know?”
“The gift? What gift?”
Carissian reached down and examined Tashama’s hands. He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The prince drank from his goblet, then motioned for the servant to offer more wine to Tashama. She shook her head. “I’ve already had too much.”
The prince reached for a slice of apple. “Whatever you were trying to do, it didn’t work.”
“If you say so.”
Carissian nodded. “You’re right, my prince. The lady couldn’t read you like she wished to.”
“Good. At least someone cannot do so.”
Carissian touched Tashama’s cheek. “She cannot do so because her feelings for you are getting in the way.”
Tashama’s cheeks reddened as she brushed the sorcerer’s hand away. “What a ludicrous thing to say.”
Carissian laughed as the prince studied her reaction. “Her cheeks are blossoming like the white neleron when it blushes pink in the springtime. She needn’t say a word—her skin tattles on her just the same.”
The prince smiled. “What feelings does she have for me?”
“I’ve told you before, she wants you to kiss her.”
“I do not, sorcerer.” She sat up and scooted away from the prince.
“She doesn’t speak the truth,” the sorcerer said. “She’s intrigued by your looks. Your smooth chest tantalized her as you left your bath. She barely took a breath as she studied the towel wrapped around your waist. Her…”
She hurtled a pillow at the sorcerer, and the prince and he stared at her for a moment, then both burst out laughing. The prince held his chest for a moment as he caught his breath. “Do tell, what else interests her about me?”
Carissian shook his head. “Now she’s so flustered, I cannot say.”
The prince stared at her, then smiled. “Tell her I desire to kiss her, too.”
Carissian took a deep breath. “Should I leave the room, Your Highness?”
“No!” Tashama shouted. “You’ve read my thoughts wrong! Your prince needs to replace you, sorcerer, as your mind grows feeble.”
The prince’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and then he motioned for his staff to leave the room. The servants hurried to remove the platters of food, and Tashama folded her arms. “I cannot walk.”
“Our prince doesn’t want you to leave, just the rest of us.” Carissian vanished.
The prince finished his goblet of wine, then set the empty cup on the floor. He stretched out on the pillows as he leaned on his elbow to observe her.
“You’ve hardly eaten anything,” she said.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Of course not.”
“Even without Carissian’s saying so, I can see you are. I won’t harm you.” He rolled onto his back, then studied the mural of the ocean painted across the twenty-foot-high ceilings of his chambers.
She lay down to consider the swirling aqua waters with sugary spray spilling from white caps as mermen intertwined their emerald-scaled tails with mermaids in the milky foam.
She turned her head to see what part of the painting the prince was looking at, but he studied her bodice instead.
She pulled a pillow over her chest and turned back to consider the mer-creatures further.
“It’s the mating ritual.” The prince touched her hand.
“How would you know?”
“Sailors have captured such visions for our artists to paint for centuries.”
“Why can't we be at peace?” She looked over at him.
“Your leaders will not allow us to take them over, and of course, we will not allow them to do the deed to us.”
“Why does one have to take over the other? Why can we not live in peace?”
“It has been this way forever.” He touched a handful of her hair to his face, then breathed in deeply and smiled.
“The fragrance of the blue water lily coats your hair from your dip in Lake Curaca. I imagine the mermaids in my mural tantalize their companions in much the same way. Her hair is as golden as yours, and her skin as ivory. If you truly can swim, perhaps you’re really a mermaid. ”
“I don’t have a tail.” She studied the painting again.
He looked down at her skirts as they draped between her legs. He smiled. “You’re so right about that.” She watched him, and he touched his finger to her lips. “I wish to kiss you.”
“You kissed another in the gardens yesterday when she forbade you to. If I forbid you to kiss me, will you disobey me, too?”
“Women have no say in such matters. Should I desire to kiss you—and you already know that I do—the choice would be mine to do as I pleased.”
“You cannot be serious.” She sat up quickly and furrowed her brow at him. “Your sorcerer has made a mistake about my interest in you.”
“I am the ruler of Maldovia.”
“You do not rule over me!”
“I don’t know how things can get so quickly muddled between you and me. The truth of the matter is, you desire me to kiss you, and I wish to oblige you. It’s as simple as that.”
“I want to be returned to my room at once!”
The prince stared at her for a moment, then sat upright. He jumped to his feet and hollered, “Guards!”
“Yes, sire?” two of the palace guards chimed in as they both hurried into the room at once.
“I’m retiring to bed. The prisoner will make her bed on the pillows here tonight. Make sure she doesn’t leave here this evening.”
“As you wish, my lord,” one of the men said.
Aleron turned to Tashama. “Women do not make demands of men. And in particular, no woman makes a demand of me!” He strode back to his bedchambers.
Tashama grabbed a pillow, but before she could fling it at him, the guard grabbed it from her grasp. “You’re courting disaster, miss.” The guard tossed the pillow behind her.
“You sure are full of yourself!” she shouted to the prince as she collapsed on the pillows. She listened to the sounds of his mattress creaking as he slipped onto his feather-stuffed mattress.
The guards exchanged glances. One turned to her and said, “What does that mean, miss?”
“I wasn’t speaking to you!” She twisted to get comfortable on the pillows. “I need a blanket.”
“Sire,” the guard whispered into the dark chambers of the prince. “Would it be all right for the prisoner to have a blanket?”
“No!” the prince yelled from the abyss.
“You are a tyrant!” she screamed back.
Sometime between the late-night hour and the early morning one, Tashama woke to find Carissian leaning against the desk, observing her. “The metal workers say the bracelets you wore were made of some gold alloy. Where did you get them?”
“The Virgin Islands.” She rolled over on her side, then closed her eyes.
“Is it an uncharted island somewhere off your coast?”
She shook her head. “If it were uncharted, it would not be named.”
“What is your name?”
“Dallas—you have said so yourself.”
The whites of Carissian’s knuckles showed as he gripped the edge of the desk with his fingers.
“Dallas is a fanciful place. Your thoughts betray visions of the buildings scraping the sky as they loom toward the sun. One in particular fascinates you as its blue mirror-like sides shine in the sunlight. And again, I see the shiny, bright-colored, horseless wagons darting about their business on black stone roads, cris-crossing in such a maze it’s similar to our palace corridors—in one respect. ”
She pushed the wayward wisps of hair back off her cheek. “What are you going to do with me?”
“The prince hasn’t said.”
“But you advise him. What will you tell him to do?”
“I can suggest.”
“And?”
“Keep you here, close at hand for the time being.” She shook her head slightly.
Carissian laughed. “You envision stepping into your village amidst cheers from your people. Why does a woman think she would have such an effect on the Karthlanders? You’re quite attractive, to be sure.
But a woman—any woman—would never have much of a say in a man’s world. ”
She rolled onto her back and glared at Carissian. Hearing the mattress creak in the room adjoining hers, she twisted her head in that direction. “He’s already awake,” Carissian said as he stood tall. “He’s been listening to all that has been said.”
“Balthazar is cleverer than you!” She knew as soon as she said it, she’d made a grave mistake. It was the early morning hour that tripped her up.
“Balthazar,” Carissian said as his eyes narrowed.
“Balthazar,” he repeated as he took a step toward her.
“What would you know of the Karthlander’s sorcerer?
He vanished with the rest of the royal family many years ago.
Only now a cousin rules in their place. Valmor is the sorcerer who has taken Balthazar’s position. ”
Tashama sat up on the pillows and stared at the floor. “A cousin?” she said to herself. Had he murdered her family for the power?