Chapter 12 #2
However, the future Prima had abandoned him early on, stealing a seat from another in order to sit by Liandra, and the two had been whispering together ever since.
Oh, he was eaten up with curiosity, dying to eavesdrop on what had them intermittently so serious and then smothering giggles.
But that was the very meaning of light and dark mourning, and he had no right to be nosy.
He was merely amazed at how quickly she seemed to make friends of total strangers.
She’d had that ability from the outset, he being a prime example.
After the interment, the mood at the banquet had grown increasingly more festive.
Conversation buzzed everywhere around him, though no one directly spoke with him.
Darcio had given up some time ago when his attention had strayed far too many times to where Mystique sat.
Chayne, ever the vigilant one taking his duties seriously, had found a seat in a chair against a nearby wall, just behind his charge.
“Smitten.”
Reule turned his head toward Darcio, who was grinning at him.
“Isn’t that the word for it, My Prime? Smitten? When a man is completely obsessed with a woman to the point of fawning over her every second of the day?”
“It’s possible you’re correct and that is the word for it. However, only men who want to lose important limbs would ever use the word with their Prime.”
“Come now, My Prime,” Darcio chuckled, “be proud of your grand fall from bachelorhood. You wear it well. And so does she.” Reule followed his Shadow’s eyes back to Mystique and found himself smiling as he agreed.
“She’s stunning,” he admitted. “In many ways.”
“This has happened very quickly for you,” Darcio hurriedly continued when Reule scowled at him.
“You aren’t the sort of man who doesn’t know his own mind, so I’m not questioning that.
Your feelings aren’t to be doubted. The entire Pack is convinced of that as of this afternoon.
” Darcio cleared his throat as he hinted at activity which would have been more private had he not been Packleader.
“It isn’t so easy to be as certain of her feelings, though,” he remarked.
“There’s a turmoil of emotion within her.
It overloads my senses. Then again, I’m not as strong an empath as the rest of the Pack. ”
“She isn’t any easier for me to fathom, I promise you,” Reule said patiently.
“She feels things from the past and the present all together. Even she isn’t aware of where one leaves off and the other begins.
She had an attack of anxiety earlier and she couldn’t even breathe.
Even now I’m not certain if it was my asking her to be Prima that panicked her, or some remembered fear from the past.”
“Perhaps a combination of both. It was selfish of you to place the burden of becoming Prima on her so soon.”
Reule chuckled and cast his friend a sideways glance. “So I told her. But she accepted with enthusiasm. And despite her intermittent confusion, Mystique has proven herself to be a woman of conviction.”
“So I see. She’s already taken to Liandra. But then, Liandra is cut of the same cloth as her brother. Warm, friendly, firm when she needs to be. It amazes me how certain of people Mystique can be with no empathy or telepathy to guide her.”
“She has excellent instincts,” Reule noted. “Mostly when it comes to the motivations and intents of others. Perhaps it’s a ’pathic ability we aren’t aware of. Perhaps not. Few people seem to take her by surprise.”
“Unfortunately, I think much of that is life experience. I suspect she saw the black side of what people can and will do to further their own agendas.”
“Yes. Too much black side, if you ask me.”
Darcio watched carefully as his Prime’s gaze shifted to the sullen face of his heir.
“What has he done?”
“The unforgivable. And yet, she insists I forgive him for Amando’s sake. Not for her own, but for Amando’s and Rye’s own sakes.” Reule shook his head. “Her ways are not my ways, but how can I ignore when she begs me so well?”
“Hmm. How easily we hardened warriors can fall beneath the kiss and caress of a singular woman,” Darcio mused.
“That’s almost as bad as smitten,” Reule warned with a laugh.
“You know, I’d have thought this afternoon would’ve put you in a more contented frame of mind,” Darcio complained good-naturedly.
“Speak to me in the morning. I plan to be far more contented by then.”
Mystique’s head lifted up when the Prime Shadow’s laughter bolted down the length of the table. She looked at Reule with amusement and he gave her a broad wink. Since she could just imagine what the companions were discussing, she blushed red hot and lowered her eyes.
“Beasts,” Liandra declared, snorting at the masculine display. “It’s beyond time there was a woman among them. One who can temper their wicked manners. That Darcio alone has a wild streak as wide as the flatlands.”
“Darcio?” Mystique was incredulous, making Lia laugh.
“Well, perhaps more so in his youth. And with Reule right beside him. Though our Prime was relentlessly serious and responsible when it came to building a home for us, he countered it with quite an untamed aspect. But I shouldn’t be telling tales.
He was much younger then.” Liandra reached to squeeze her hand.
“He needs something besides his Pack in his life. And he has found it.” Lia sniggered through her nose.
“There are a host of disappointed noblewomen here today.”
Liandra lifted her chin in the direction of several groups of women who were milling beyond the tables having whispered discussions behind their fans. Mystique had been aware of their attention, but she’d dismissed it as unimportant.
“I can’t be concerned with their judgment,” she said with a convincing shrug. “I’m only concerned that I behave in a manner to make Reule proud.”
“Oh, he is proud. And more. You may not feel it, but I do.” She leaned in with an eager sparkle in her fern eyes. “He’s completely enthralled by you. He barely looks away. How can you stand it? I’d be checking my teeth for bits of food if someone looked at me like that.”
“Lia,” she scolded with a giggle. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Come, let’s see if it’s started to snow yet.” Lia stood and reached for Mystique’s hand, drawing her up as well. “You can tell me all the details about Reule I’ve only gossiped about.”
Mystique adored Liandra’s impudent character instantly. She reminded her of Amando, but she also shined beyond her brother’s personality with her outright audacity and mischief. But her love of breadcakes, a habit she swore was bad for her waistline, she completely blamed on Amando.
Now Mystique obediently followed as Liandra led them on a winding path through the crowded banquet hall.
They were just passing when one of the groups of women clustered nearby moved directly into their path.
A buxom redhead with a slim waist and round hips stepped forward.
She had beautiful blue eyes and her dark lashes had been dusted with gold, making them glitter whenever she blinked.
Her wealth was obvious, if a bit overstated, in her adornments.
“Liandra, dearest, so sorry for your loss,” she said in a voice like refined silk. Her bearing, right down to the sympathetic touch of a fan against Lia’s wrist, was all perfection and grace. “Do introduce us to your friend.”
Liandra visibly hesitated, worry ghosting through her frond-colored eyes.
Manners seemed to win out and she smiled tentatively.
“Mystique, this is Lady Jocelyn. Lady Geneva”—she indicated a proud-looking brunette with a pinched nose—“and this is Lady Theodora.” The final lady was also brunette, but she was clearly much older than the other, her thick hair shot through with gray and silvery white.
“A pleasure,” she responded graciously.
“Is it?” Jocelyn queried with a direct blink of her blue eyes. “Not many outlanders care for the Sánge. I’ve been dying with curiosity all night, wondering what could possibly make you different. But I’m at a loss. Why, I haven’t even a clue what species you hail from.”
“I find the Sánge to be a fascinating culture,” Mystique said carefully, avoiding the rest of the questions left open by Jocelyn’s speculations.
“But then, you should. I hear you were left for dead in the wilderness, with no hope of home or hearth. I suppose mucking around with us is better than the beasts beyond these walls.”
“She’s done more than muck,” Geneva piped in, “if she’s wrapped a male of Prime Reule’s appetites around her pretty fingers.”
“More like she wrapped her fingers around him.” Jocelyn snickered, hiding the graceless laugh behind her fan but keeping her eyes on her target.
“Jocelyn!” Liandra snapped, her hold on Mystique’s hand squeezing tighter.
“Oh, please, Liandra. From rags to riches inside a week? Powerless to Prima? One doesn’t have to think too hard about what she’s done to secure her comfort.”
“Beware, upstart girl.” Theodora spoke up, her warning ominous in its aged tone. “Becoming Prima doesn’t guarantee you the love of the Sánge people. There are those who won’t abide an outlander bride for our Prime.”
“Whether they can abide it or not, it will happen,” Mystique promised her, the steel in her voice sending a chill through the women. “You have warned me, now I will warn you. Speak softly in the future, ladies, if you think to burn me with words. Fire flashes back on her who strikes the match.”
“You have nothing to frighten us with,” Jocelyn whispered venomously. “You aren’t ’pathic as we are. An assassin could be behind you this very instant and you’d be powerless to read his intentions. One so weak as you are won’t survive long if you continue to reach above yourself.”