He threw himself down on plump down-filled
pillows stacked four deep against its high brass headboard. His dog
draped itself across his lap and dozed off again.
The problem with the never alone solution
was he could not stand people fawning over him all the time. It
made him crazy. My Captain . Kayseri started that nonsense as
little girl tagging after him in the practice yard. It spread
through the garrison and then through the town like a wildfire and
now he was stuck with it. No one called him by name anymore except
when he took a risky or unpopular decision.
A wry grin tugged at the corner of his
mouth. He was, like it or not, the beacon around which the citizens
of Qets ordered their lives, and by the Hells, he had better shine.
If their beacon was sometimes afraid of the dark, they did not want
to hear about it.
"Respect is a great thing, Moppet. Papa
always said so." Kree sipped his whiskey. "It's damn lonely too."
The dog gave a low moan and rolled onto its back in a show of
solidarity. Gulping down the remaining liquid in his glass and
carefully rearranging his dog, he poured another drink resolving to
get sock-eyed drunk if he remembered how. It would not solve his
Kayseri problem, but for a little while, he wouldn't care.
***
Back in the stable Kayseri did not know
whether to howl with rage or shout for joy. Kree almost kissed her.
He would have too if that cursed boy had not arrived.
At age twelve, she had told her father she
loved Kree and wanted to marry him. Her father, who by some
accounts was the most powerful wizard in the Kingdoms, tucked her
into bed, kissed her forehead, and said she had a crush on the
captain. Puppy love, he said. She would grow out of it, he
promised. Within a week, father had packed her off to her half-elf
grandmother in Elhar some six hundred miles away to make sure she
did.
Presented at the Thallasi Court, Kayseri
attended balls. She danced. She flirted, but she did not grow out
of it. Only one male spoke to her heart. Today he’d called her his
best girl and he’d almost kissed her. Kayseri cut her eyes to the
cadet saddling her horse. Her horse. He chattered away, as
children do, about what a fine animal it was. She crossed her eyes
at him. This inconvenient cadet would soon regret his interfering
ways.
Kayseri was not pixie-stupid. She realized
young ladies seldom grew up to marry a childhood crush. The
troubling thing was that in all her daydreaming she had not
considered the captain's age an obstacle. After all, what were mere
numbers to races who aged slowly? Clearly, Kree did not see things
in the same light. Here he was at the peak of his strength and
prowess calling himself old. He was the perfect age.
More worrisome still, Kayseri knew exactly
what sort of women attracted Kree, and she did not measure up. She
was not tall or blonde. Cornflower-blue eyes drew him in like
magnets; hers were plain brown. Whereas her skin glowed like
sun-kissed caramel, the captain craved pale complexions. And rather
than strengthening her claim on him, his connection to her family
distressed him. Since his wife’s death, avoiding emotional
attachment had become his credo, and getting him over these hurdles
would take more than mere cleverness. A kiss would have helped. She
just knew it.
That almost-kiss gave Kayseri hope. It
proved Kree felt attraction for her, but his reaction to it proved
his attraction to her did not please him. She knew Kree. He would
avoid her for all he was worth. What she needed was a plan, some
lure he could not resist. But what? Then it hit her, a riding
accident.
Chapter Three
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The captain slumped across his desk, head
cradled on his thick forearms. It was full dark and someone had the
colossal gall to pound on his door. Several of the mail packets had
fallen off the desk and scattered across the fine Thallasi rug. His
blind dog lay beside his foot chewing on the corner of one of them.
Kree cracked opened his