Tasia studied the woman soldier. Had she ever had to fight against her own people? A nomad slaughtering other nomads? But the guard’s face remained impassive.
So she was a well-heeled nomad, at least. Domesticated, one might say.
“The Empire appreciates your service,” Tasia told the guard.
“She saved General Galter of House Keltior’s life as he lay wounded in a battle with the barbarians only a month ago,” Cole said.
Joslyn remained still and silent.
“How impressive,” Tasia said, though there was no mistaking the mocking edge in her voice.
The muscles of Cole’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly.
“Guard Joslyn is to remain at your side at all times, day and night, by orders of the Emperor,” Cole continued. “She will leave your service only upon his order or mine. Or upon death.”
“I see.” Tasia locked eyes with the guard. Instead of respectfully looking away as a commoner should, the woman held Tasia’s stare without so much as flinching, almost as if she was returning Tasia’s challenge with one of her own.
Then it seemed she suddenly recalled who it was she stood before, shifted her eyes hastily away.
Good. The guard knew her place. Or could be taught it. There was that, at least.
“The farthest she is permitted to be from you is in your antechamber,” Cole said, gesturing behind him. “Which is also where she will be staying. I already had the chambermaid arrange a bed.”
“Very well,” Tasia said to Cole, resigning herself to her fate.
“Once you determine there is no immediate triumph to be had, you accept your circumstances and begin your probe for other routes to victory,” said Wise Man Norix in her head. Tasia’s lifelong tutor probably hadn’t intended for his lesson to be used this way, or for his royal pupil to manipulate the very person who had been sent to protect her. As the Emperor’s senior advisor, Tasia wouldn’t be surprised if old Norix himself was partially to blame for this new bodyguard scheme of her father’s.
Cole gave a swift bow. “Good day, Princess,” he said, and left without further commentary, closing the bedchamber door behind him, leaving Joslyn of Terinto behind to stand awkwardly just inside the doorway.
Although sometimes brusque, the curt, unadorned politeness was the one thing Tasia liked about Cole; he understood his role and seemed to have little or no interest in expanding it. He didn’t strive to curry Tasia’s favor for his own gain. Nor had she ever seen him strive to curry anyone else’s favor, for that matter, not even the Emperor’s.
Tasia didn’t like him, but she respected him. With any luck, this new hand-picked guard would be like him. If not… Tasia would employ the Wise Man Norix’s advice and search for other routes to victory.
Tasia looked the woman up and down. “So,” she said. “A female member of the palace guard. You might be the first in the Empire’s history.”
Joslyn inclined her head. “It’s possible, my Lady.”
“I am the Princess, not a lady,” Tasia corrected. She turned, indicated Mylla, who was sitting up in the bed, holding her night robe closed. “Mylla of House Harthing, my handmaid until she comes of age and marries, she is a lady. When you meet a princess, you call her ‘Princess’ or ‘Highness’ or ‘Majesty.’ Not ‘Lady.’”
Joslyn said nothing.
Tasia locked eyes with the guard, but for a second time, the woman didn’t flinch. She stayed as frozen as a courtyard statue. Tasia found the stillness unnerving.
“Come,” Tasia said. Giving commands always helped her disguise unease. “You may as well make formal introductions with Lady Mylla, as she is with me often as not.”
Joslyn followed Tasia across the room to the unkempt bed. Too late, Tasia realized the harness end of the dildo was half-visible, sticking out from beneath the sheets. She met Mylla’s eyes, glanced quickly at the dildo. Mylla followed her gaze, subtly pushed the leather contraption completely out of sight. If Joslyn saw the exchange, she gave no indication.
The guard gave Mylla a rough, unpracticed bow, and the girl extended her hand in the same manner that Tasia had earlier. Joslyn kneeled and gave it a swift kiss.
“Lady Mylla,” said the guard. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“And I am pleased to make yours,” Mylla said. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re well-spoken. For a nomad.”
Tasia thought she saw some kind of emotion flash through Joslyn’s dark eyes, but it passed so quickly that she would be hard-pressed to say if it had actually happened or if it had only been her imagination.
“Thank you, my Lady,” Joslyn said.
“I hope you understand that I expect you to defend the Lady Mylla’s life with the same fervor that you would defend my own, should it ever come to that,” Tasia told Joslyn.
The guard gave a single nod.
Mylla giggled. “So dramatic, Princess. What would anyone ever want with my life?”
Tasia allowed herself a smile. “I just want our new guard to understand that her duty includes you, too. One never knows.”
“I suppose one never does,” Mylla agreed. “At any rate — shall we eat before our food gets cold?”
They settled in for their meal, both doing their best to pretend the guard was not still in the room as they chattered and laughed.
A guard is just another servant, Tasia reminded herself. And like any other servant, she would be seen and not heard. Until she could find a way to get rid of her, Tasia might as well grow used to having her near.
“Tell me about that boy I caught you with in bed last week,” Tasia said. “What was his name again — Lars?”
“Lars?” Mylla repeated, her brow furrowing. “I don’t remember a ‘Lars.’ Which boy do you mean?”
“Which boy?” Tasia laughed. “Just how many of them are there, Mylla?”
The open secret of Mylla’s active love life and Tasia’s own was the other reason the Princess didn’t worry too much about chambermaids and palace guards coming to any scandalous conclusions about Tasia’s relationship with Mylla. The men were a smokescreen, in a way, obscuring the place where Tasia kept her true heart hidden.
“You’re one to talk,” Mylla said. She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment. “Lars… oh — do you mean Willem? The son of… Oh, bollocks. Who is the Lord from Gart Red?”
“Do you mean Lord Burke of House Gartón?”
“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Mylla said. “That was definitely Willem. Not Lars.”
“Ugh, whatever his name is, I don’t know why you bother with that one, Myll. He’s terribly dull.”
Mylla smirked. “Maybe. But he has a great ass.”
“Point taken,” Tasia said. “But honestly, House Gartón… those lords and their sons never speak of anything but horses and hunting dogs. How can you take someone so boring to bed?”
“It’s never stopped you before,” Mylla countered playfully. “As if you chose Markas for his quick wit!”
Tasia glanced in Joslyn’s direction. Open secret or no, she wasn’t sure that she wanted the new guard to hear about her various activities with the young men in and around the palace. Who knew what the guard would say to Cole, or what Cole in turn would say to her father.