She wanted to beg him to take her away from there. To challenge him to see if he’d do as she asked. That was not the plan, however. She searched for words to use. “Promise me you won’t let the queen torture me.”
“The queen would never do such a thing,” Benjamin said, pouring them both more wine. “However, if it makes you feel better, I vow to you on the souls of my ancestors that I will not allow anybody to torture you. You don’t even have to give her blood tomorrow if you don’t want to do so.”
Could she believe him? Did she have a choice? She required direction and had none. Were the Kurjans watching? If so, she had to do this correctly and follow the plan. “All right.” She looked around. “Are there two bedrooms in your suite?”
“No. You take the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.” He tossed his napkin on his plate.
She coughed. He was a deadly warrior and she a servant. What was he talking about? Was this another test? “I shall take the sofa and you the bed. You’re too large for this furniture.”
He grinned. “I’m too large for most furniture. Now, take the bedroom, Karma. I’m not going to argue with you about it.” While he usually appeared relaxed, there was an iron-steel determination just beneath his casual attitude.
She immediately stood and grasped her full wineglass. “Very well. I shall see you tomorrow.”
He held up his hand to show his marking. “We do need to talk about this tomorrow.”
She grew still.
He waved that hand. “I don’t expect you to mate me, and I’m not mate material anyway. But this does mean I’m responsible for you, and I want you to let me help you. We’ll get you settled wherever you want with a good life. It’s totally up to you.”
She truly had no words, although it made sense he didn’t want to mate. She should feel relief; the hollow sensation in her belly did not make sense. “Good night, Benjamin.”
“’Night.” He gathered the plates and dishes together.
She swept by him and entered the master bedroom, shutting the door. Pain immediately slashed into the right side of her head, and she pressed the heel of her palm to her eye, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Sucking back a sob, she tripped past the bed to what must be the bathroom. She scrambled for the light, pushing her face toward the ornate mirror and lifting her hand.
Blood dribbled from her right eye. She wiped it away, looking closer to see if the implant was visible. Her eye looked normal, but her eyeball and her ear throbbed from the activation of the device. The Kurjan tech had said it wouldn’t be detected and then would be activated about three hours after any test the Realm performed. So Grumpy Gus had done what the tech had promised.
She winced at the continuing pain in her head.
The Kurjans were now watching…and listening.
Chapter Seven
Midmorning, a soft knock on the bedroom door pulled Karma out of her whirling thoughts. She’d showered and dressed in the available clothing, but it was not working. The jeans did not feel right, although the shirt was flowered and soft. But it was short-sleeved, and much of her skin was exposed. She thought about donning the skirt she’d worn the day before, but it was stained with dirt and blood.
She felt as if sharp knives spun inside her head, sticking directly into the back of her eye after ripping through her right eardrum.
“Karma? It’s Emma,” the queen said, her voice quiet through the door.
Karma jumped off the bed and looked around. She’d tidied the monstrously sized bed and hung up her towels in the bathroom. She hurried toward the door and opened it, steeling her shoulders.
Emma stood with a handful of clothing in her arms. Today the queen’s dark hair fell around her shoulders, and her eyes were brighter after a night of sleep. Concern glowed in them, however. “I thought about the clothes we left for you and what you were wearing last night. It seems you’re more comfortable in skirts and all, so we ran to town earlier to see what we could find.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me rephrase that. I asked people to run to town because Dage is over-the-top protective right now with two members of the Seven here at Realm Headquarters. He’s being a pain in my ass.”
Karma took a step back. Fear thundered in her ears. “You’re speaking of the King of the Realm? Your mate?” Did the woman like being beaten?
Emma snorted. “Yeah. Him.” She pushed the clothing into Karma’s arms. “Find something to make you comfortable, and then come on out for breakfast. I’ll set your table by the window. I thought we should talk.”
Karma stumbled back and let Emma close the door. Was the queen truly insane? She turned and set the bundle on the bed, rifling through it with pleasure. A lovely floral skirt with matching burgundy-colored tights fit perfectly, and she pulled the softest blue cardigan over her shirt and instantly felt more like herself. Once she’d laced up her boots, she double-checked her braid and then strode outside to find the queen at a small table by the window.
“Come on over.” Emma gestured her to the table, where plates of food smelled delicious. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes.” She reached for a carafe. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please.” Karma sat, her aching mind spinning. The queen was serving her? That wasn’t right. “Did you say you made breakfast?”
Emma held the carafe gracefully. “I sometimes like to cook to let my mind wander. I’m nowhere near as good at it as most of my friends or my sister or Max, but I try.” She finished pouring and nudged sugar and cream across the table. “Here you go.”
Karma poured a little cream and took a sip, nearly humming at the delicious taste. “Wonderful.”
Emma leaned in, her cup already in her hands. “I have to confess, Max made the coffee. He’s a genius with it, and the butthead won’t share how or why.”
Karma sucked in air. “You speak disrespectfully of the soldiers. Is it only when they are absent?”
Emma chuckled, although her eyes remained serious. “No. I told Max he was a jackass just an hour ago, and believe me, I read Dage the riot act when he said I couldn’t go into town today. Are you not allowed to speak your mind in the Kurjan stronghold?”
“Not like that.” Karma cleared her throat. “It was kind of you to find me additional clothing. I am much more comfortable in a skirt.” Whenever she wore jeans, she felt vulnerable for some reason.
Emma shrugged. “You do you, girl. If you want to wear skirts, wear them.”
How in the world was this female a queen? “I don’t understand you,” Karma confessed. She’d read many romance novels through the years, since the Kurjan soldiers considered them silly and allowed them in the camps. The women in them were strong and impressive. Maybe there was more truth in those slices of escape than she’d thought? If so, where were the sheiks with the ripped abs? Thinking about it, she took a bite of the eggs. They were delicious.