So just Gin she remained while in the Qatu city, though she did take on the surname of the royal family to give herself some status in her new home at Sath’s insistence. He had mentioned it to her only moments before Taeben had found them at the guard tower on the border, and she found that Ginolwenye Clawsharp suited her very well. Time went on, and the more the citizens protested the idea of her becoming First Wife, the less Sath mentioned it, and the further apart they seemed to grow. They were still friends—close friends; in fact, Gin considered Sath to be her best friend and loved him—but nothing more than that seemed possible. She had come to realize that she was okay with that.
Gin had also not told Sath anything more about her time with Taeben than she had told Tee the night she turned up in the guild hall seeking sanctuary, and she thought it was better that way. He did not need to know the details of her treatment at the Temple to the Mother Dragon and other places where they traveled. The wizard’s death had given her some of the closure she needed, and she knew that one day she would be able to trust Sath again as she had begun to do when they were merely members of the Fabled Ones. One day. Once that happened, they could work to build his trust in her and her kind. But often she woke in the night, soaked in sweat and rubbing the back of her neck to rid herself of the phantom tingle she felt there. One day seemed farther and farther away.
Before she realized, they were climbing the steps to the palace at the center of the city. Sath ran a hand across the stone head of the statue of a tiger that guarded the entrance, and the large feline purred in response before switching its gaze to stare warily at Gin. “Will those cats EVER remember who I am?” she muttered angrily.
No, probably not. The statues are enchanted only to recognize other Qatu, Gin, you know that.
I do, yes.
Gin scowled and felt Sath’s chuckle through their bond. The large marble doors swung shut behind them, and she automatically turned left to head to her quarters. She had been on a long walk with the Prince, and their short conversation in Elvish had left her feeling a bit homesick and longing for quiet, away from the rumbling growly sounds of the Qatu. There were still months to go before her next trip back to the Great Forest as the Nature Walker. “I will take my dinner in my quarters tonight if you don’t mind, Sath?”
“Gin, a word, please?” Sath said, smiling softly as she stopped in her tracks. “Khuj, you have some studies to finish before we eat, do you not?” The Prince grinned impishly at his father and then headed for his own quarters, the four Sahi Kalah at his heels. Gin did not turn around to face him as she searched his mind for a clue about what he wanted to discuss, but found only those barriers—the barriers that she had not taught him to erect in his mind.
“Can this wait, Sath? I’m just exhausted, and I’d like a hot bath and my bed after I eat if you don’t mind.”
Sath frowned. “Um, no, I don’t mind, but Gin—have I done something to upset you?” Gin took a deep breath and turned around to face him, a smile plastered across her lips that did not spread to her eyes. She knew that Sath could tell she was lying but found that she was too exhausted to care. The low purr had gotten louder, but he was not trying to pry. She was thankful for that at least.
“Of course not. Shall we go to the throne room to talk? Gin was wary—ever since they returned to Qatu’anari, she had been waiting for the other shoe to drop that would mean her exile from the city at best or her death at worst. She could not let go of her guilt over her part in Kazhmere’s death, and she didn’t expect that Sath would either.
“No, I thought perhaps my quarters would be more comfortable?” Gin stared at him. “No, no, no, I didn’t mean that.” Sath sighed loudly in annoyance. “I just thought we could sit and talk for a while—and my quarters are pretty comfortable.” Gin nodded and turned on her heel, heading down the short flight of stairs to the royal apartment. Sath followed closely, unable to contain the grin that was spreading across his face. Once there, Gin settled herself on one of the large cushions in the sitting room of the royal apartment. She could not help thinking of the first time that she had been here—when Tee dragged her in before Sath in the middle of the night after she’d turned up in the guild hall seeking sanctuary. Sath followed and then dismissed the Sahi Kalah that had been assigned to the room. “Now then, you and I need to talk.”
“I’ve been expecting this, really, Sath,” she said.
“Na’hina, Gin, don’t you ever stop interrupting me?” Sath grumbled. “There is no way that you could be expecting what I’m about to say unless you’ve gotten a lot better at spying.” He ran a hand over his head, chuckling. His smile faded in reaction to her stony gaze. “But I would know if you were doing that, wouldn’t I? In the bond, I mean, I would know that-”
“I know that you need a First Wife, Sath,” Gin interrupted, steeling herself against another outburst from him. “It won’t hurt my feelings. It is not the way of your people for the Rajah to only have one
