And people all around the hall chanted too, stomping their feet or banging their fists, even Tor, in a low rich voice that made her skin vibrate and her blood pulse.
And when the dancing was done, he did drag her off to their chambers and toss her into the bed, and her brain liquefied.
Words dissolved on her tongue, and she found herself beneath him, with his mouth and his hands doing all those wonderful things, kissing and dragging, stroking and pulling, demanding, encouraging, warm and soft… and hard. So hard. But he never asked. And she was glad, because if he had, she honestly wasn’t sure what she’d have said.
27
No one’s business
KLYM RESISTED the overwhelming urge to pat her hair when the gate to the garden opened and the first of the cassia’s women trailed in. She’d gone to the breakfast room and publicly invited them all that morning, hoping the allure of a previously forbidden place would entice them.
It was a subtle distinction, but it would force them into a space they’d consider hers and it would shift the dynamic. Everywhere else felt like their territory. This felt like hers.
His mother was among them, dressed in a pair of deep-blue pants, her gray hair in a braid down her back. She stood with some of the other wives-regent, but when she saw Klym, she left them. She didn’t quite smile, but she seemed somehow slightly less austere. She stopped beside the low wall around a pool, where Klym sat in the shade. “Tell me why you and my son aren’t sleeping together?”
Klym coughed to cover her surprise. “We sleep together every night.”
His mother lifted a brow. “Why are you not having sex with him?”
“Excuse me.” Klym sucked in a breath. “Please call me Klymeni, or Klym if you feel comfortable. What should I call you?”
His mother straightened, her mouth hardening. “Selissa-Regent. Or Layanna. Whichever you prefer. And then tell me the answer. Why do you not have sex with him?”
Klym froze, and belatedly became aware of the ridiculous face she was making, nostrils flared at the sheer, monstrous awkwardness of the question, from his mother, her mouth hanging open. She schooled her features back to some degree of normalcy. “That’s no one’s business.”
“Until it becomes an international incident.” Layanna leaned down closer, and the look in her eyes was one of unbreakable, boundless determination. This was a woman who didn’t tolerate slights on her family. “Do you not like my son?”
Klym had about a million responses to that one, but not one of them would go over well.
Yes, I like your son, but only when his tongue is between my legs.
No, I hate your son, he’s a bully and he stole me.
Yes, I like your son, but only when he’s laughing.
No, I hate your son and the fact that he turns me into a wild beast.
She stared up at Layanna’s dark, Tor-like eyes, with absolutely no idea how to respond.
And luckily, she didn’t have to, because Staria came up at that exact moment and sat beside her near one of the cool bathing pools.
Layanna’s eye twitched.
Klym smiled broadly at her.
Layanna left, the braid swaying across her back as she walked.
“What was that about?” Staria asked, tugging off her own curled slippers and pulling her pants up around her knees. She dropped her feet in the water. “I hate that lizard.”
“She was just welcoming me.” Klym trailed her hand along the pool, and Staria sent her a sly look, her dark, slanting brows amused.
“It won’t work, you know.”
“What?”
“Getting her to like you.” Staria grinned, and Klym realized it was one of the first times anyone but Tor had smiled at her since she’d arrived. “She hates everyone.”
A fish nibbled at Klym’s finger. “Did she like Dillan’s wives?”
“No.” There was that smile again, spreading across Staria’s face. Enormous and white and just slightly sneaky. “Why are you bothering trying to get to know us?”
When the fish swam off, Klym pulled her finger back. “My father sold me to a man I’d never met.”
“Tor?”
“No. A different man. Tor helped me escape.” Funny, she’d never thought of it that way. She’d always thought of it the other way around.
“Not really the same thing. You ended up with Tor. My father is giving me to the Prime of Lasseron. He rules one of the northern countries. It’s cold up there. He’s sixty-eight, and I hear he’s had both his hips replaced recently.” Staria slapped her feet together. “Maybe I’ll get to rub balm on his bunions.” The sneaky smile flashed.
Despite herself, a bubble of laughter burst from Klym’s mouth.
“Or maybe I’ll get lucky, and his cock won’t work anymore.” Staria smiled. “Or maybe it will be his son who sees me through my next heat.”
“Does he have a son?”
Staria nodded. “He’s no Dillan, though. No Tor.”
That she could easily believe. Tor was special, even among his own kind. Klym wiggled her toes in the water. “Did you love Dillan?”
Staria made a face. “I loved him as much as a woman could love a man who had a kingdom to rule and twenty-seven wives. I didn’t see him often. He was good, though. Kind. Honest.”
“I’m sorry.”
“ ‘Sorry’ is useless,” Staria said dully.
“I know,” said Klym. She’d learned that after she’d locked Tor out of his ship, and Jasto’s body had been mangled by birds.
“It’s not fair that you get him all to yourself. There’s room for all of us here.”
Life’s not fair. How many times had she heard that? Her father. Multiple tutors. And Tor. It wouldn’t help Staria any more than it had helped her to hear it said.
And it wasn’t her choice. Tor wanted the women gone for his own reasons. It wouldn’t help Staria to hear that either.
She kicked her feet, sending ripples across the water, the filtered sunlight flashing in her dark hair. “Two of the
