paint on yesterday, even his back which no way he could have done. And just now when he’d come in, he had no paint and his hair was no longer loose and flowing. It was pulled back in a tail that started at the base of his neck and his hair was contained at intervals down his back with slim, gold bands.
“Is Lahn –?” I started.
“Undoubtedly, my dear,” she answered swiftly.
I sat up straight and Ghost lifted her head but I didn’t notice.
One of those women was washing my husband’s hair?
Oh no, I did not think so.
“Dahksahna Circe, it would be best –”
My eyes cut to her. “Do you think Lahn is… is… has he…? Does he fuck them?”
She shook her head, scrunched her eyes closed then opened them and asked, “Fuck them?”
“Has he slept with them, had sex with them, had intercourse, relations,” I snapped.
Her face got soft with understanding. “Oh, my queen, I see this disturbs you but yes, again, I’m sorry to say it is their way.”
It was their way.
It was their way.
Last night, they were having their way right on the dance floor. And I knew some of them having their way with Xacto had to have wives at home in their chams.
I left him last night. Lahn was there at least an hour longer than me, likely more.
I left him last night!
Then he came to our tent and fucked me! Maybe after he had his fun with them!
“Now?” I shrieked, Ghost mewed and jerked in surprise then read my mood and jumped off the bed.
“Now?” Diandra asked, her body tense.
“Is he fucking them now? I mean, since we were married?”
She shook her head, leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “I do not know,” she said quietly.
She didn’t know. Which could be yes or it could be no. Which could mean yes.
I yanked my hand from hers and looked away.
“My queen –” she started.
“If you say it is their way, I swear, Diandra, I swear… I’ll scream,” I snapped at the tent wall.
She was silent.
I deep breathed.
Then I made up my mind and looked at her.
“I must ask of you an important favor and I will warn you that it will be one you won’t want to grant. I am your queen, I get that, but I will tell you and mean it that you have every right to refuse what I ask and there will be no hard feelings,” I declared.
“Erm… all right,” she mumbled hesitantly.
“I want you here tonight to translate what I have to say when my husband gets home.”
She instantly whispered, “Oh dear.”
Oh dear was right!
“You can say no,” I reminded her and she held my eyes.
Then she leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “I advise you as your friend, Circe –”
I shook my head and squeezed her hand hard. “I get that, Diandra, I get it. Trust me, I do. Now, will you be here tonight when Lahn gets home?”
She studied me. Then she squeezed my hand and said softly, “Yes, Diandra, as your friend, I will always be by your side when you need me.”
Tears instantly filled my eyes and one spilled over before I looked away.
I let her go and dashed at it with the back of my hand before I whispered to the wall, “Thank you.”
Diandra didn’t respond.
Then I pulled in breath through my nose, looked at her, smiled a fake smile and suggested, “Why don’t we have some lunch?”
*Translation: “Today you rest, tomorrow we see if you’re healthy. The Horde does not ride if my Circe is not well.”
Chapter Twelve
Wifely Duties
Night had fallen; I was pacing the cham while Diandra sat at the table sipping from her third chalice of wine.
She was sucking back liquid courage.
I didn’t need liquid courage; I was coasting high on adrenalin and emotion.
I did not allow myself to consider why the possibility that Lahn was having sex with other women and allowing them to bathe him and do his fucking hair upset me so much.
It just did.
A lot.
A lot, a lot.
And like when I saw something I wanted badly, I got irrational and emotional when I got upset. The difference was, when I got upset, I got extremely irrational and emotional and this, unfortunately frequently, mingled with a whole lot of stupid.
So I didn’t question it in this world just like I never did in my own.
I just let that tidal wave sweep me wherever I got swept.
Which was what I was going to do the minute Lahn got home.
I was wearing my apple green nightgown and my long hair was pulled up in a messy knot wrapped with a piece of ribbon that I’d tied into it. I was too wound up to have it in my face and on my burned shoulders, it was driving me mad, so up it went.
“I wish you would sit, my queen, you’re making me nervous,” Diandra mumbled and then sucked back more wine.
I stopped, turned to her and started babbling. “I can’t sit. I’m wound up. And, by the way, I wish you’d stop calling me your queen. I know I am to the people out there but you’re just my friend. No one but us knows what it means anyway, all my friends from home call me Circe mainly because that’s my name and I’m not a queen there but even if I was… not that that could ever happen but still… I wouldn’t let them. And you’re my friend. So, I’d like you just to call me Circe.”
She gave me a crooked smile that looked alarmingly tipsy and I wondered with some concern if Diandra was a lightweight.
“I’d love that… Circe,” then she giggled.
Oh shit.
The cham flaps slapped open, I turned to them and then stopped breathing when Lahn bent low and entered.
Here we go.
His eyes cut through Diandra, across the bed and hit me standing at the far end of it. Then his face went soft. Then he took a step toward me.
I lifted my hand swiftly and said, “Stop.”
Diandra translated.
Lahn stopped and his brows drew together in a way that didn’t loosen me up one bit, his gaze sliced to Diandra then back to me.
“We need to talk,” I told him in a soft voice. “It’s important. I asked Diandra to translate for us. Please, Lahn, will you talk with me?”
