Allara wasn’t sure what to say to this. How could they be married if he did not own her?
“I would still like to hear your Song someday, if you’d like to sing it to me,” Brand said softly. “We don’t need a Song House for me to listen to you sing, baby. I bet you have a beautiful singing voice—a beautiful Song.”
Allara bit her lip at his words complimenting her Song. Women did sing at the Song House and some of their songs were elevated above all others, when they were good enough. Allara had never had such an honor herself, though several of her Song Leaders had recommended her. Her aunt had not wished her to get above herself and forget her mission.
My mission, she told herself sternly. I must not forget my mission!
“Husband,” she said, trying to calm herself. “May I please be alone in the room of necessity for a short time?”
“Oh, sorry—of course.” He nodded quickly. “If you need any help, just call me. I’ll be in the living area setting something up.”
“Thank you.” She nodded as he left, shutting the door behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Allara went to the strange mirror he had called a 3-D viewer and checked her appearance. The mirror showed her to herself from all angles so she was able to ascertain that her dress still looked good and her hair was still a rippling indigo waterfall down her back.
She fingered the elaborately jeweled scabbard of the skora around her neck. Should she take it out of its sheath and test it to make sure the folded blade opened smoothly?
There was a jewel—a blood stone about as big as her fingernail—which had been sharpened to a point at the top of the scabbard. The only way to get the blade to emerge was to prick herself on its point and let the thirsty stone drink of her blood.
Allara ran the pad of her thumb thoughtfully over the blood jewel, feeling its sharpened point. If she exerted just a little pressure, it would pierce her flesh and drink her blood to release the blade.
But no—what if the big Kindred asked why she was bleeding? There would be time enough to draw the skora from its sheath and stab it into his heart after he’d had his way with her and filled her with his seed—a thought which still made her shudder.
It is a frightening thing I am about to do, but necessary. I must not show that I am afraid, she thought.
Taking her hand from the jeweled scabbard, she looked closely at herself in the 3-D viewer again. Despite her earlier anger and her thoughts of what was to come, her face was reasonably calm.
She thought of the way she had spoken to the big Kindred—accusing him in a way no wife should accuse her husband. It was shocking, really, the way she had acted. If he had been Q’ess, he would have struck her across the face for her belligerence, leaving a mark for all to see and know that she had misbehaved.
But I would not have behaved so with a Q’ess husband—I am sure I would not, she thought. It was the way he spoke to me that made me react. The things he said that made me angry.
Why had she allowed the Kindred’s words to get her so worked up, Allara wondered? Why did the evil one stir her emotions so?
And why are you wasting time looking at yourself in this strange mirror instead of fulfilling your mission? her aunt’s voice whispered in her head.
Allara squeezed her hands together guiltily. She wished that she could take off her wedding dress and go to him now. Her aunt had assured her that once she was naked, her husband would not be able to stop himself from taking her at once. It made her blush to think of trying such blatant seduction but how else was she to get on with this process?
Unfortunately, by Q’ess tradition, only her husband could take the wedding gown off of her. So until he decided to do that and then take her, as a man takes a woman, she could not get on with her mission.
I must entice him to take off my dress somehow, she thought.
But how? Her aunt had declined to go over any kind of plan for such seduction. She had assured Allara that the evil giant would rip off her gown and take her at once—possibly even the first moment he met her. But since they had gone through an entire wedding ceremony and were now inside his domicile where it was private and he had yet to start ripping, Allara didn’t know what to do.
She supposed the best course of action was just go back out to the living area and spend time with him, hoping he would eventually start tearing off her dress before he threw her to the floor and penetrated her.
The thought made her shudder with dread. Why oh why must she endure the shame of penetration before she could kill him? Why had her aunt never told her before of this crucial extra step? The excuse that it would not be proper to tell her until her wedding night rang hollow to Allara.
I think she didn’t tell me because she knew I might have refused to commit myself to the mission if she did, she thought to herself.
But it was too late now—she had taken the Unbreakable Oath at the age of twelve cycles, taken it before her father and her aunt and all of the Song Leaders at the Song House of the Seven Great Houses. If she broke it now, her entire family would be cast down into shame and all of the Q’ess people would be shamed with them.
“I must do this,” Allara said to her image in the 3-D viewer. “I must fulfill my mission—no matter how hard it is. I must honor my oath!”
Hearing the words out loud—however softly—seemed to strengthen her resolve. Lifting her chin, she marched out of the fresher…only to hear the soft, seductive sound of music flowing from the living area.
Ten
“I hope you don’t mind,” Brand said when she came back to see him standing beside the long, puffy chair and swaying slightly to the music. “I wanted to show you what I was talking about earlier—about slow dancing?”
The lights had been dimmed so that the room was lit only by the flickering flames of the fire. The music filling the room from some unknown source was slow and seductive. It stroked across Allara’s skin like the softest of feathers, lightly teasing—just enough to make her body light up with interest.
“Slow dancing?” she asked, playing for time. “Is that where the men and women sway to the music?”
“Yes—they sway together. Come here.”
He beckoned to her, so Allara went at once because a woman did not ignore her husband when he called for her.
She was surprised to see that he had a metal footstool in front of him. It wasn’t very tall but once she had stepped up onto it, Brand did something to it that made it grow.
“Oh!” she gasped, as it raised her into the air. Reaching out, she found herself grasping her new husband’s broad shoulders for balance.
Brand smiled at her.
“Sorry if that surprised you. I bought it especially for you—so you can reach things on high shelves.”
“Oh, uh, thank you,” She said, not know what else to say.
He was now only about an inch taller than her and Allara found it disconcerting to be face-to-face with the big Kindred. His eyes seemed to glow in the firelight, the blue and green flames flickering in their golden depths.
She wondered if she should let go of his shoulders now that she was in no danger of falling, but he put his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him.
“Put your head on my shoulder,” he instructed, so Allara did, because a woman did not disobey direct orders from her husband either.