Prince of Passion Read Online Free Page B

against the memory of lingering sorrow. Should he try to lie to her about the rest, despite her warning? She did not seem the sort to appreciate even a well-intentioned lie, and he did not need an infuriated monarch on his back. She was distracting enough even at a distance, and he had a task to complete. “Apparently our tourism bureau took lessons in accuracy from yours. As you see, the last l’auralyo is very much alive.”
    When she gave him another assessing stare, he wondered why he was goading her to look him over. He had no time for games of seduction. It wasn’t as if he were craftily raising his bid price. He would never have the chance to experience the l’auraly bonding ceremony.
    Though he held himself carefully still, his expression must have betrayed him because the Saya sighed and went to sit on the couch. She did not glance at the darkened screens of his devices—the way he’d seen her assess them earlier—instead her gaze remained on him as she curled onto the cushions. “Tell me.”
    Her voice held a note of command, though not as a ruler or even as a mother. Instead, her expression reflected some of the darkness outside, as if somehow she saw—and understood—his separation.
    He turned toward her in the l’auraly storytelling pose: hands clasped at belly height, fingers loosely interlaced, and palms exposed, displaying truth in the shimmer of the qva’avaq.
    But he opened with a question. “How did you know what I am? L’auraly have been rare in the sheerways for a very long time.”
    Her lips quirked. “What is a ‘very long time’ to you?”
    He snorted. “You are not so old.”
    “Old enough. When I was a child, a sheerways commissioner came to negotiate rethreading the passages to Saya-Terce and brought his l’auralyo for the Malac Festival. I remember the l’auralyo was patient with me when I was being a pest with all my questions about offworlder life, although I have forgotten his name.”
    Icere inclined his head. “Yecho. He was my tutor after he returned to the l’auraly homeworld when the commissioner died. Yecho was always good with children, although I find it hard to imagine you as a pest.”
    She gave him a look as if to remind him that she had let herself into his room uninvited. “I wanted to know how his skin glowed like our waves, so he showed me the qva’avaq.”
    Icere blinked in surprise. “It is unusual for l’auraly to share their lines with someone other than their a’lurily, their bonded masters.” He studied her with renewed curiosity, wondering what Yecho had seen in her. With her legs tucked up under her and her dark braids a little more unruly than they had been earlier in the day when she’d been seated on her white throne, he thought he could glimpse the child within.
    And, yes, now that he thought about it, he could imagine she had been a pest. But somehow special enough to warrant a l’auralyo’s attention.
    She crossed her arms, as if warding off his assessment. “No doubt he too sought a way to shut me up. However, I was asking you to talk.”
    Icere tabled that mystery for a more pressing concern. “I am sorry to tell you that Yecho was one of two l’auraly who were killed recently on my homeworld. The three l’auraly still alive besides myself—my sisters—have gone into hiding. The other l’auralya killed sought to sell the qva’avaq to mercenaries. Those mercenaries were working for an unidentified entity that intended to weaponize the qva’avaq.”
    The Saya leaned forward, her expression intent. “How would they turn it into a weapon? And why? As I understand the qva’avaq, it enhances pleasure, much like…” She stiffened.
    Icere waited a moment for the implications to settle in. He had to admit, the sharp glint of intelligence in her incongruently icy eyes intrigued him, rekindling the heat in his blood. Not that he needed her body when he had her brain for his urgent task. “Much like the malac liqueur. I don’t have