Daren stared back at her helplessly. “Faram and I favor my father,” he replied. “Thanel favored our mother.”
“Thanel? He went by Karath when he was here.”
Daren shook his head in disgust. “Thanel was what he was known by in Rethwellan,” Daren continued. “My old weaponsmistress called him a ‘grek’ka’shen.’ That’s an animal found on the Plains,” he explained. “Scavenges anything dead, soils its own nest, and eats its young.”
Selenay grimaced. “Appropriate,” she murmured, dropping her eyes. “I wish I’d known that before. . . .” her words trailed off.
Daren shook his head. “Would it have made a difference?”
“I—I don’t know,” Selenay answered, her honesty wrung out and raw.
“He could charm the sun out of the sky, the vicious little beast.” Daren took a step forward. “I am not him,” he said fiercely.
Selenay lifted her head and looked at him, a faint wondering in her eyes. She nodded slowly and then frowned slightly. “I seem to remember someone telling me . . . your weaponsmistress was Shin’a’in, wasn’t she?”
Daren nodded. “She wouldn’t train Thanel for any price. Trained me though, and Kero,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Taught us the trick we used today in fact. Worked out well.” He stared at Selenay, wanting her to know everything. “We were lovers when we were young,” he blurted out, then covered his face with his hand. “Oh, gods, why did I say that?”
Jasan whickered outside.
Selenay coughed, and Daren opened his fingers to see her choking back a laugh. “We are not at our best,” she offered. “You traveled far to save us. To save Valdemar.”
“I served my King, Your Majesty.” Daren took shelter in a return to formality. “But never so joyously.” He paled as he thought on his journey. “Hardorn’s Ancar is another grek’ka’shen. What he’s done to the land,” Daren drew a shuddering breath. “He’s not done with Valdemar yet, Lady.” He looked back into those lovely blue eyes. “With us.”
He lost himself in her face again, just staring at her. Thankfully, she seemed lost in his as well.
“You have a smudge on your nose,” he whispered.
Selenay blushed. His heart flipped as she lifted a hand and rubbed her nose. He took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to—but he stopped and took a conscious and deliberate step back.
Selenay’s eyes were wide, questioning him.
“Your Majesty,” Daren said carefully. “I need to see to my people, as do you. We both have duties here and now. But I would like to . . . explore this possibility. The possibility of us.”
Selenay nodded. “As would I.”
“But know this, Queen Selenay.” Daren set his shoulders, trying to find the right words. “Your Majesty, I’d . . . wherever this leads—if it leads to something growing between us—I’ll not be crowned.”
“What?” Selenay stared at him, and her Companion also seemed taken aback. He heard the rustle of canvas behind him, and Jasan pushed his head into the tent. Daren suppressed a surge of satisfaction. He’d surprised them all.
“But if this thing between us,” Selenay gestured toward Jasan. “Being Chosen, you would qualify as Co-Ruler in a way that Karath never–” she stopped herself.
Daren nodded. “Karath, Thanel, whatever you decide to call him, he left a taint, and I will not walk in his footsteps. But even more than that, I do not wish to wear a crown. Faram deals with so much as a result of that burden, and I know full well the price.”
Selenay nodded her understanding.
“But if you would allow,” Daren said softly., “I would stand with you. Support you in all ways, all things. Behind the throne,” he smiled at her. “Not on it.”
Selenay took a breath, her eyes tearing up. “Are you sure?”
“More than sure,” Daren said. “Now, with your leave, Your Majesty, I’ll–”
Jasan bumped him in the middle of his back. :Kiss her.:
Daren scowled and shook his head.
“What?” Selenay asked.
“He thinks I should kiss you,” Daren looked at her ruefully, then glanced back at his Companion. “Were you born in a barn?”
Selenay’s laughter burst out, like rain on his thirsty soul.
Selenay could not restrain her laughter, rising out of her relief.
Daren gave her a boyish grin. “Are they always that pushy?” he asked.
“Most times,” Selenay said teasingly, then laughed again as Cayro shook her head in denial. “Daren, this is my Companion, Cayro.”
“My lady,” Daren bowed. “I believe you already know my Companion, Jasan.”
Jasan snorted as he backed out of the tent.
“I really, really want to kiss you, Your Maj-”
“Selenay,” she interrupted.
“Selenay.” His smile lit his face. He drew a breath. “But there is time for that. We’ll talk first. Before we explore other . . . possibilities. I’d want to really know you before . . .” Daren paused. “Do you know what I am trying to say?”
Selenay nodded, her throat tight with emotion, unable to speak, feeling the truth of his words within the bond.
“But you’ll forgive me if I hope the wait is not long,” Daren said. “And I’d ask one favor,” he added, his eyes sparkling.
Selenay raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t believe anything Kero says. I don’t snore.”
Selenay laughed again, and the band of pressure around her chest eased. Daren gave her a boyish grin and lifted his eyebrows. Her heart turned over at the sight.
“I’m not sure how I am going to explain this to Faram. It’s going to take me a score of letters to convince him that I’ve been Chosen and explain what that means.” Daren’s eyebrows danced. “Maybe I’ll tell him that Jasan is a Shin’a’in battlesteed. That might do it.”
There was an offended snort from outside.
Selenay suppressed the giggle that rose in her chest.
“I’m in Valdemar to stay,” Daren said. “I am not going to give up Jasan or you, Selenay of Valdemar.”
“I’m glad,” Selenay replied, confidence flowing through her.
Daren put on his helmet, looking satisfied. “Your Majesty.” He swept a graceful courtly bow as he backed away.
Selenay stepped forward, suddenly reluctant to part. She extended her hand.
Daren took it gently in his and lightly touched his lips to it. Then he left, with a flourish of his cloak.
Selenay stood for a moment. :He is not his brother.:
:He is not.: Caryo agreed. :And I am here, always.:
:Always,: Selenay said, as the tightness in her shoulders eased even more.
Noises from without, and the flap was raised. “The Lord Marshal is here to confer with you.”
Selenay rubbed her face, hopefully erasing her tears. “Let him enter,” she commanded.
“A battle won, majesty.” The Lord Marshal strode in with his staff.
“But there are consequences yet to be dealt with,” Selenay stepped to the map table. “Let’s see to it, shall we?” She bent her head to the reports he laid out for her, with a new energy. No, she smiled to herself. More like a new anticipation.
And a new determination to protect Valdemar and those she . . . loved.
The greenhouse was worse than he’d expected. The tools had gotten damp from the constant storms, and plants were either dying or running riot. Whoever had last been inside appeared to have trimmed just enough materials for their use and then run off. Several of the windows had been left open, and drains had not been
