The Traitor Queen

cure, too. Osen wants me to help her.” Sonea looked out of the window at the wasteland. “Now I understand why he was so insistent that I come home.”

Regin smiled. “I’m sure that’s not the only reason.”

“Why? Do you think there’s another reason?”

He shrugged and looked away. “Lilia isn’t quite Kallen’s equal, yet. You’re the only one who can keep him in check.”

“Ah. Kallen.” Sonea grimaced. “Until you mentioned him, I was looking forward to getting home.”

Regin turned so that his elbow rested on the top of the seat back. “I got the impression you wanted to take charge of Healing in Sachaka. Perhaps start a hospice.”

Sonea shook her head. “No, not really. I would like to see things change for the better in Sachaka, but I don’t think they need me to do it for them. I just... I don’t want to be so far from Lorkin.” She sighed. “Are you looking forward to seeing your daughters?”

He shrugged. “Yes. But they don’t need me. In fact, I’m not looking forward to getting back at all.”

“No? You want to stay here?”

“Not particularly. But...” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I’ve quite figured you out yet.”

Sonea blinked. “Me? What’s there to figure out?”

Regin eyebrows rose. “Oh. Plenty.”

Crossing her arms, she turned to face him. “Really? What have you figured out so far?”

He smiled. “That you are attracted to me.”

Sonea stared at him and felt her heartbeat suddenly increase. Curse him. How did he work that out? She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and considered all the ways she’d thought of to let him down gently.

“Lord Regin. I—”

“I also know that you have worked out that I am attracted to you,” Regin interrupted. “You took your time with that one, though I supposed you first had to forgive me for being a malicious, bigoted bastard when I was a novice.”

This was not going to be easy. For either of us, she had to admit. “Regin, I’m not...”

“Attracted to me?” His eyebrows rose. “So you deny it?”

She hesitated, then forced herself to straighten and look him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I do.”

His eyes narrowed. “Liar.”

What am I doing wrong? Uncrossing her arms, she attempted to place her hands on her hips, but it proved too difficult in a moving carriage, so she settled on shaking one finger at him.

“Don’t you call me a liar when...”

He laughed. “Ah, Sonea. If I’d known it was so much fun to tease you, I’d have started sooner.”

The panicky feeling that had been growing in her eased. He’s only having fun with me. He’s not serious. Relief was followed by disappointment. Oh, don’t be silly, she told herself. She sighed, straightened in the seat and leaned against the back.

“You may not be a malicious, bigoted bastard any more, but you are still just as manipulative, Lord Regin.”

Regin shrugged. “Well, that’s not news. I hope you agree, I always do it for a good cause.” He leaned toward her. “But I would like to know what you have against the idea of you and me being a couple.”

She paused before answering. At least he wants to discuss it sensibly. Maybe we should. Get the idea aired and out of our heads.

“It would be... well, a lot of people would object to it. I’m a black magician. You’re... married.”

“Is that all?” He shook his head. “How conventional of you. Sonea, the woman who changed everything – the Guild, Kyralian society, the way we regard black magic – is worried about gossip?”

“Of course. It took years for me to gain people’s trust. I can’t risk losing that.”

“You won’t. They’d be happier seeing you settled with another magician.”

She looked away. “You can’t know that.”

“I know Kyralia’s gossips better than you,” he retorted. “I have the dubious pleasure of knowing them personally.”

He sighed. Glancing at him, she felt her heart twist a little. He looked disappointed. Maybe he’s right. No, he doesn’t know what it was like, these last twenty years. People constantly weighing in on every move I made, every friend or lover I had.

But as she stole another glance, she knew he was right about one thing. She did find him attractive. A lot. Crazy as that may be.

“So,” he said quietly, “would it be acceptable if I was divorced?”

“No!” she protested, though whether at his question or at him continuing to pursue this she wasn’t sure.

“Maybe I should rephrase that. Would it be acceptable to you if I was divorced?” He leaned closer and she turned to face him. “If nobody else’s opinion mattered, would you want me then?”

He was staring right into her eyes. It would not be easy to lie to him. She hesitated, then opened her mouth to try.

But the words never came out because he was suddenly kissing her. As she froze in surprise he slipped his arms around her, drawing her closer, and she found she could not quite get coordinated enough to do anything about it. Her body did what it wanted to: it relaxed against the warmth of him.

It was, she had to admit, a very good kiss. She was disappointed when it ended, though she was a little out of breath. He looked at her, but not with the full confidence he’d had a moment before. He will stop this now, if I tell him to.

I don’t want to tell him to.

She searched for something else to say.

“You’re not divorced yet,” she reminded him.

He smiled. “Oh, but I am. The king granted it before I left.”

“What? You never told me that!”

“Of course not. I know you too well. You might have guessed my intentions, and kept me at arm’s length,” he told her. “Well, more than usual.”

“You planned this all along. You scheming, manipulative—”

“Always for a good cause,” he said. Then he kissed her again.

* * *

As Lorkin stepped into Savara’s suite of rooms the queen looked up from the papers she was reading and smiled. Lorkin stopped and put a hand to his heart, but she made a face and waved him past.

“Stop that. Nobody’s watching. And Tyvara’s waiting for you,” she said.

He walked over to the room he and Tyvara had been sleeping in. Tapping lightly on the door, he heard a faint reply, and pushed it open. Tyvara was lying on the narrow bed reading yet more documents, dressed only in a short shift. He closed the door, leaned back on it and hoped he wouldn’t have a reason to move again too soon.

She looked up, then rolled her eyes. “Stop that.”

“Can’t,” he said.

“Very well then. Stay there. You’ll get bored eventually.”

“I doubt it.”

She tried to ignore him, but he could see that her eyes were moving back and forth without actually descending down the page. Eventually she closed them, sighed, and looked up at him again.

“I suppose there is a way to make you stop which would be mutually agreeable to both of us.”

He widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Mutually agreeable?”

“Definitely. Come here and let’s do some experimenting with your new ability. I suspect there are some mutually agreeable ways that skill could be applied.”