Untouchable. Part 19

"Yes," she said. "I think that's a lovely idea."

"It'll be much more crowded than what you're accustomed to," he warned her.

"I don't care."

"You'll have to share a bed." He blushed.

She blushed, too. "I don't care," she said again.

In fact, sharing a bed sounded very fine at the moment.

IN spite of his impatience to reach Arthes, Trystan led the horse at an easy pace. If they did not reach Arthes until tomorrow or the next day, what would be the harm? Jahn would still be there, and before it was all done, Jahn would still be dead.

There was more to this life he had craved for so long than the taking of power.

Sanura was perched in front of him, sideways so he could see her face when he desired to do so. He desired to do so often. There was something about the curve of her cheek and the softness of her lips and the gleam of her eyes that warmed him. He had not thought he wished to be warmed, and yet apparently he did.

"Tell me about your brother," Sanura said as they moved at a slow pace down the road to Arthes.

Instead of ordering her to cease prattling, as he should've, he asked, "What do you wish to know?

"You are twins. Do you look exactly alike?"

He gave a disgusted snort. "No. Jahn is fairer, and prettier in the face. You would find him handsome, I imagine. Most women do."

"I don't care for a man who's too pretty." Sanura twisted her head and looked up at him. "I prefer a man who looks like a man, as you do."

Was it his imagination, or did she stare too intently into his eyes? His insides tightened and quaked.

"Stop looking at me that way unless you wish to be taken here and now."

"You would stop so soon?"

"I did not say we would stop. I said here and now."

She laughed easily. "We cannot make love on horseback. Don't be ridiculous."

"I did not say we would make love." Such soft, easy words for such a momentous act.

"No, but that is what you meant," she said, relaxing against him as best she could. "And no matter what you call it, the deed cannot be accomplished on horseback, and should not be attempted unless you wish to die of a broken neck."

"But I would die happy."

She laughed. He smiled. Happy. In all the times he'd thought of taking control and taking what he wanted, happiness had never crossed his mind. It had not crossed Alix's mind often, either. He'd been too busy fighting to keep his most primal thoughts suppressed.

Was Sanura right when she insisted that they were one? That there was no Alix and Trystan, that there was no light and dark, there was only the man he had become. A single man. If she was right, then there was no other-and there never had been.

He'd planned to kill her once he'd had her, but he'd had her many times now, and he did not even wish to see her frown-much less see her dead. He would protect her with his life, if need be, and if anyone else dared to touch her, to hurt her, he would die to keep her safe.

She had ruined everything.

"Were you close growing up?" she asked.

"Jahn and I?"

"Yes, though when you were children, he was Devlyn and you were Trystan, isn't that right?"

"That's correct." He looked past Sanura's fall of hair, which was caught up on top of her head, silky as a raven's wing. "There were times when we were close, and times when we were not. He could be very funny, when he wished to be. He made our mother laugh when she was sad and nothing and no one else could ease her pain."

"Did he make you laugh?"

"Now and then." His gut clenched. "Don't think you will make me change my mind by urging me to remember better times. I know what I want and what is required to take it. I know what is mine, Sanura."

"I would never dare to try to make you change your mind," she said calmly. "I was simply curious, and trying to pa.s.s the time." He could see her face well enough to see the transformation that came over it. Her smile died. Her mouth went hard. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but held his tongue.

Eventually, she told him what had made her frown. "I cannot be empress, you know."

"Of course you can." He would have no one else-he could trust no one else. "We will be married as soon as I'm declared emperor, and . . ."

"I can't give you an heir, and any woman you take as your wife must be able to bear your child. Is that not the reason for this silly contest to find an empress? Is it not required that the emperor produce sons?"

"I know a woman who has the gift of fertility. We will ask for her help..."

"I don't think even the strongest of magic can help me conceive and bear a child, and even if it were possible...is this woman a friend of yours and of Jahn's?"

"Yes."

"Do you really think she will help you after you a.s.sa.s.sinate him?"

"We will find a way," he said sharply.

"There is no way. Perhaps you will keep me as a concubine and marry a woman who will give you children while you keep me for pleasure. Was that not the way of old? I heard stories, while living in Tryfyn, of a Columbyanan emperor who kept a large and pampered harem."

Trystan sighed. "That emperor was my father."

"Then you can carry on the family tradition."

It did make sense. He would need an heir, and Sophie Fyne Varden would not only not a.s.sist him if she knew he'd murdered Jahn, she was likely to rain terror on the palace, if she got the chance. Still, he did not like the idea of taking another woman as wife. He also did not like the idea of keeping Sanura as no more than the s.e.xual slave she'd been born to be. She deserved more. She would have more; he'd see to it.

SANURA knew she could not stop Trystan if he insisted upon killing his brother, so she did not even attempt to reason with him. Instead, she planted small doubts in his heart. It was easy, now that the part of him she'd called Alix was rising to the surface once again.

He would never again be the man she'd first met, she understood and accepted that, but he could be a new man, a happier man who did not do constant battle with himself. All beings had primitive desires and dark thoughts. What made a man or woman light or dark was what choices they made when those dark thoughts surfaced.

Trystan Arndell, who had become Prince Alixandyr Beckyt at the age of twenty-five, had been fractured at birth-or perhaps earlier, when he'd become life in his mother's womb. That fracture had existed all these years, until she'd drawn the darker half to the surface by making Alix take something which he knew was not his to take.

Because of her, he would never be the same, but she was not sorry. She could not be sorry that she loved him and he loved her. With luck, his long battle was over. She looked up and into his eyes once again, to see the streaks of light green that had begun to form amid the dark. Love did that. Love brought the light of his soul to the forefront even now.

"I should call you Alix," she said softly as they rode slowly-much more slowly than was necessary-down the path.

The body she leaned against jerked in surprise. "Why?"

"All those at the palace know you as Prince Alixandyr, do they not?"

"They do," he said grudgingly.

"If you show up with a woman who calls you by another name, questions might arise."

He shifted his body slightly, as if he had suddenly grown uncomfortable. "I suppose you're right."

"I've gotten so accustomed to calling you Trystan, I'll need to practice calling you Alix again until it feels right and natural."

"It does not matter what you call me," he said gruffly.

"In that case, I will start practicing now, Alix."

Again he was startled. She held on to him, burying her cheek against his warm chest. "I will call you Alix until you stop reacting so oddly. Those at the palace will wonder if you jump every time I say your name, Alix."

Her fingers raked against his side. She had not thought she would ever feel affection of any kind for the one who called himself Trystan, but now that she knew they were and always would be one, she loved that sad side of him, as well as the more n.o.ble Alix. If anything, Trystan needed her more.

No, Trystan needed Alix more, and she could be the one to draw Alix to the forefront once again.

"It'll be dark soon, Alix," she said. "Perhaps we should stop for the night.

"We can be in Arthes in a matter of hours," he argued.

"I doubt if the palace will move if we stop for food and sleep and other pleasant activities." She wanted to call him Alix as he made love to her. She wanted to say, "I love you, Alix," while he was inside her.

"You're right, of course," he said. "One more night will make no difference to my plans."

Sanura smiled and held on to Trystan-no, Alix-tighter than before. She wanted one more night to call to the light the man she loved, and she was going to have it.

TARI carried the tin cup of water to Vyrn's trembling, pale lips. The sun had just set, but they had stopped to set up camp hours ago.

Vyrn could barely put one foot in front of the other. His hands shook all the time, and after a few days of fighting his viciously rebellious bodily functions, he had nothing left to expel.

It was time.

Tari made him comfortable on his blanket, after being sure he swallowed a generous drink of the tainted water she'd been giving him for days. Even before she had revealed herself to him, she'd slipped the herbs into his waterskin. It had been very bold of her to sneak into camp and sully his water, but she had not cared what might happen to her if she got caught.

She had not cared then, and did not care now, because her life was over. It had been over since the moment she'd heard the soldiers and sentinels talking about her around the campfire, laughing at her appearance, openly abhorring the very thought of touching her. She did not care what the others thought, but Vyrn should've been better. He should think better of her. After all that she had done for him, he owed her that!

He looked as if he were drifting toward sleep, so she grabbed a hank of his hair and jerked his head very slightly off the ground. His eyes opened, but he was unable to focus on her. Dammit, she wanted him looking at her! She wanted him to know the truth.

"You have been so miserable these past few days," she said with sympathy.

He nodded.

"Do you know why you have been so miserable?"

"I'm sick," he said weakly.

"Yes, you are. You're sick because I fed you herbs and gra.s.ses which tear up your insides and sap your strength."

It took a moment for the truth to get through his muddled brain. "You . . . poisoned me?"

"Not precisely, no. What I gave you won't kill you, Vyrn."

He seemed relieved, but not for long. She held his own dagger to his throat. "What I gave you was meant to weaken you so I can cut your throat the way I cut Princess Edlyn's throat. For you!" she said sharply. "I killed a woman whose only crime was to be disagreeable, and I did it for you."

He tried to lift his hands, but could not. The last dose she'd given him had been doubly strong. "We're going to get married and be rich and happy," he argued, his words sloppy. "Why would you want to kill me?"

She grabbed one of his wrists with her free hand and carried it roughly to her stomach. "What do you feel here, Vyrn? A woman's body or a sack of bones? Do you want to poke me one more time? If you do, I'm sure I can find a bag to put over my head so you won't have to look at me."

It took a moment for Vyrn to recognize his own words, and when he did, he went even paler, which was a feat. She'd seen fresh winter snow less white than his face. "When I said that, I was only covering for us," he explained. "I couldn't let the others know that you and I were in this together. I couldn't tell them that I...loved you."

"Even now, when your life is in my hands, you choke on the words." She leaned down, placing her face close to his. "Say it again, and this time make me believe you."

"I love you, Tari. All this, everything I've done, has been for you. For us."

She wanted to believe him, she truly did. "I think I'm going to have your baby." Only in the past few days had she begun to suspect that she might be with child. If she had not overheard that awful conversation, she'd be deliriously happy.

"A baby." He managed to lift one trembling hand and touch her arm. "Isn't that nice? You don't want to murder your baby's pappy, do you?"

Tari was set to cut Vyrn's throat, but she hesitated. He did sound happy. Was it true that everything he'd said in camp had been intended to throw the others off their scent? Had he lied to the others that night? She did not fool herself to think that she was beautiful, that men l.u.s.ted after her, but Vyrn had made her believe that he saw beyond the physical. Did he? Was it possible?

Vyrn moved more quickly than should be possible, grabbing her wrist, turning it sharply, and thrusting the knife into her side. His false face was shed, and he called her vile names as he twisted the blade. His strength was waning and all he could manage was that one thrust and a twist, but it was enough. Tari looked down at her side and the bloom of blood there, and knew he had killed her and their baby.

He fell back, exhausted by the effort of killing her. Sweat beaded on his face, and his eyes were more closed than open. She had to act fast while she still could. Life was slipping away; she felt it leaving her.

Without hesitation, Tari quickly swiped the blade across Vyrn's throat. She'd done the heinous deed before; she knew what to expect. She did not wear an ap.r.o.n this time, so the blood that spurted from the severed throat sprayed across her dress, mixing with her own and even marking her face with vile droplets. She didn't care.

"Why did you make me do this?" she asked as Vyrn's body jerked and then went still. "Why couldn't you love me?" Tears ran down her face, mixing with the blood there.

Killing him had taken the last of her strength, so Tari placed her head on Vyrn's stomach, resting there very comfortably even though they were both drenched in blood. "You made me do this terrible thing," she said. "It's your fault, all your fault." Her words had begun to slur, but she continued to speak to the dead man beneath her. "You should not have talked about me so horribly. You should not have lied to me."

When Vyrn had seduced her into killing the princess, he'd promised that they would be together forever. Tari was pretty sure this wasn't what he'd had in mind, but in the end he was entirely hers.

Chapter Sixteen.

VERITY was very happy to make use of one of Carina's old nightgowns for the night. Who would've thought a plain, used nightdress that didn't fit all that well could be considered a luxury? A nightdress, a bath, hot food, a roof over her head when the rain came-it was all heavenly.