But it mattered not what her answers were. He gripped the pommel of her saddle, covering her hands with his—as his body had covered hers last eve. As he would cover her again on her moon night and every night thereafter.
His gaze held steadily to hers as he said, “Do you believe I would ever allow you to choose another?”
“No.” A bitter smile curved her lips. “I am your path to vengeance. So let us continue as we are, warrior.”
So they would. But not exactly as they had been. He gave to her the reins and mounted his own horse, then signaled to Kelir to take the lead before coming up alongside Yvenne. At a trot they started away from the stables, with Maddek watching her new mount. Thus far her mare seemed placid and steady, suitable for a new rider.
When they reached the road, he spoke again. “Do you still intend to make a king of me?”
A soft laugh preceded her reply. “I will try.”
“And I will make a warrior-queen of you.” At her sudden frown and searching glance, he continued, “Here is your first lesson: make the best use of what you have. Waste no time with wishes and regrets.”
She stared at him for a long moment before a wry smile touched her mouth. “And I have you, warrior. Is that what you mean to say?”
“No. I say what I mean: a warrior makes use of what she has.”
Her eyebrows arched in challenge. “And I have you.”
“Yes.” Maddek could not deny that. She had him. It was best that she made use of him. And if the lesson she learned from this was to accept Maddek as her only possible suitor, then he would not unteach her. But there was another he wanted her to learn. “Are you prepared for your second lesson?”
Another laugh was her answer. Blown back by the wind, her hood had fallen away from her braided hair, her cheeks already brightened by the ride.
His gaze fell to her linen-wrapped calf, exposed as the sides of her cloak and robe flapped against her mount’s flanks. “It is the same lesson: make use of what you have. And if you are in bed with a warrior who intends to rip out your tongue for a false reason, then use the dagger strapped to your leg to defend yourself.”
Sudden and sharp was the grin she turned on him. “I will! Even if the reason is not false.”
Maddek did not doubt it—and thought he would be wise to strip her of weapons before joining her in his furs that night. “Will you give me true reason?”
“I have no wish to lose my tongue.” All at once her smile faded, her moonstone gaze solemn. “And a Parsathean warrior who betrays a vow cannot be king—yet that is what I intend to make you. So I will not risk my tongue or your crown again.”
Maddek did not doubt that, either. And a warrior wasted no time on regrets but still must admit the wrongs he’d done . . . and it was not the threat to her tongue that had sent her from their bed. When he’d let her go, she had lain beside him still. Only after he’d spoken again had she left. “What I told you afterward, I should not have. Those were words best left unsaid.”
Her face shuttered. “Yet you spoke truth, did you not? As Parsatheans always do. Through me, you will have your vengeance. And you intend to give me nothing more than your seed.”
Jaw tight, Maddek inclined his head. That was what he intended. A vessel was all Yvenne should be to him.
And he should not need to keep reminding himself of that.
Chin lifting, she looked away from him, casting her gaze down the road ahead. In silence they rode for five long breaths before she spoke again. “It was also true what you said of me. I hoped for more from my marriage and my husband. Yet affection and love are not necessary to our purpose, are they?”
“No,” he answered gruffly—more truth. Yet he had to force it from his tongue.
She yearned for more from him. Being certain of what he’d already guessed should not pull at his chest, as if drawing upon some hidden yearning within his own heart.
A short nod was her reply, followed by a sidelong glance. “Will you ever rescind your vow?”
And let her speak of his mother? “If ever I believed you would only speak truth.”
“I would,” she shot back without hesitation. “I have never lied to you.”
He gave no reply.
Her moonstone gaze searched his face and must have seen the doubt he hadn’t voiced. Emphatically she continued. “I have spoken with sly tongue twice. But I have never lied to you. I never will.”
Such a statement demanded an answer. “Never can I be certain of that.”
“You will always doubt my word?”
Maddek believed he would. No matter how he wished otherwise. She would be his bride, his queen, the mother of his children. Of all the words ever spoken, it was hers that he most wanted to trust.
But he did not. And he would waste no time wishing.
Grimly he nodded. Her delicate features an unmoving mask, she stared at him with wide and unblinking eyes for many breaths.
Finally she faced forward again, her shoulders straight, her spine stiff. “You no longer need to fear that I want more from you, warrior. I require neither your affection nor your trust. All I require is your seed and your protection.”
As it should be. Yet that was another truth he could not voice.
Because even though she no longer wanted more from Maddek, some foolish part of him wanted to give it.
CHAPTER 17
YVENNE
The past few days, Yvenne would have given much for Maddek to ride beside her. So of course on this day, when she would’ve given much to put distance between them, he never left her side.
Her would-be husband said little as they rode, however, and for that she was thankful. Already he had said enough.
Their route had veered away from the great river, its waters a rippling glint of silver to the north. Blanketed in tall grass, the Gogean plains stretched endlessly before them. Yvenne rode with her chin high and her gaze on the western horizon, fixed at the point where the narrowing road vanished from sight.
After a lifetime spent in her tower, she was no good judge of distance. She could not guess how far away the horizon lay. But surely by the time they reached that meeting of ground and sky, this pain would no longer weigh upon her heart so fiercely. Surely by then, the sharpened rage clawing up her throat would dull and retreat. Surely the icy bitterness that rimed her tongue would warm and sweeten.
Yet although Enam’s blinding eye roamed higher through a cloudless sky and Yvenne’s mare consumed a long span of road beneath her hooves, the horizon remained ever distant.
And if Maddek knew of her pain or rage, he seemed not at all burdened by them. He rode as tall as ever—and today he wore armor again. Not since leading the ambush upon the Tolehi road had he donned more than his linens, boots, and belt. Now spaulders and vambraces guarded his strong shoulders and arms. No breastplate covered his broad chest, however. Nor did he wear his silver claws or blacken his brow. Prepared for Syssian soldiers to catch up to them, but not yet anticipating a battle.