feeding bottles for the twins.
“Take Rozite,” Stone said. “I’ll make the feeders.” He tipped his head toward the shadows that made such interesting rustling noises, eyes asking questions. “You don’t mind? I thought—”
“Why would I mind? It’s sex, not magic. And she’s ilias…I think.” Aisse frowned then. “Isn’t she? If she is not, I will kill her. When I can get off the floor by myself.”
“We talked about it, Fox and I. We decided she is.”
“You just want to do sex with her.”
Stone leered happily at her. “Of course. I’d rather do it with you, mind, but she’ll do in a pinch.”
“Me? I’m fat. A pig is smaller than I am.”
“But you’re our fat pig.” Stone caught her around the middle and rolled her onto his lap, babies and all, nuzzling her neck under her short-cropped hair.
Aisse squealed, sounding far too piglike for her own comfort, and slapped at him, one-handed, clutching a squalling Rozite in the other arm. Stone just laughed and changed his nuzzling to loud, smacking kisses before he let her go. He handed her the feeder.
“I wish you would have me, Aisse,” he said, voice suddenly low and far too serious. “There’s only you and Kallista, and Kallista’s not here. I miss the belonging.”
Aisse stared at him as he prepared the second feeder against Lorynda’s waking, as Rozite sucked eagerly at the warm goat’s milk. She would never have thought it mattered to him other than the quick, pleasurable release of sex. She kept thinking of him as a Tibran Warrior, one of those who saw women as things, conveniences, rather than persons, one of those who had made her previous life a misery. But he wasn’t. Hadn’t been for more than a year. He was Adaran ilias. As was she.
And he was hers. Like Fox. And Torchay and Obed and Kallista, off away in Arikon. And Merinda too, maybe, for a time. Fox had never hurt her, had given her pleasure and a child. None of the others would hurt her either, because she was theirs. They belonged, all of them together. And if any of them wanted to do sex with her, well then…Aisse wanted it, too. She should have understood this long ago, but at least she understood it now.
“Stone.” She touched his shoulder. “I will have you, if you truly wish it. But—don’t forget to keep Merinda busy.”
He turned, leaned toward her, holding her gaze with those blue eyes that seemed so strange in such a Tibran face. He watched her, coming closer until his lips touched hers, softly at first, then with more and more intensity until he broke off and backed away.
“You do mean it,” he said, controlling his breath with effort. “I was afraid you were just—”
Then he grinned. “Good. After our little adventure in the snow, I can wait. But I have your promise.”
Aisse couldn’t help smiling in the face of that grin. “You have it.”
What was left of the day in Arikon was spent in finding clothing for Joh, resting, eating again and more resting. Now and again, Kallista touched the links inside her with delicate fingers, the magic quiescent. She wanted to test it, to see whether it had truly returned, but after such a display, the magic seemed sluggish.
Tired, perhaps. Goddess knew, Kallista was tired. And without Fox to give the magic his order, she was a bit afraid to tap into the massive power Torchay held. Who knew what that much magic would do if it got away from her?
In the middle of her seventh yawn in as many ticks, Torchay spoke. “Why are we sitting here yawning when there are beds for sleeping just behind those doors?”
The long central parlor was lined on either side with enough small bedrooms for every member of the largest ilian, a full twelve-strong, to find privacy, and one large bedroom in case they found privacy overrated. Last year, at the ilian’s beginning, they had all slept in the separate rooms. Kallista wasn’t having any of it now.
She rolled to her feet and caught Obed’s arm before he could escape on some pretext. “Go.” She shoved him ahead of her, toward the large sleeping room. “In there.”
“I need to—”
“No, you don’t. Whatever it is can wait.” She kept her grip on him, steering him where she wanted him to go. “Joh, you’d better catch up if you don’t want a nasty surprise.”
A quick jingle of silver chain behind her told her their new ilias had heeded her warning. The parlor darkened. Torchay snuffed the lamps save for the one he brought with him when he took over the lead.
The single lamp cast the big room into romantic shadows and made the enormous bed look even larger, as if it stretched past the darkness into eternity. Ivory velvet covered the vast expanse, promising a sensory treat even without the masses of gold, white and yellow silken pillows piled upon it.
“I—” Joh had to stop and clear his throat before beginning again. “I think I should sleep here.” He indicated a cot near the door, intended for children or perhaps a servant.
Kallista exchanged a look with Torchay. Aisse had slept apart for several months until she became accustomed to being part of an ilian, one full of men. Due to her past, she had trouble trusting men. Still did, save for her iliasti. Kallista supposed they owed Joh the same opportunity. It would give Joh and Torchay both a chance to get used to the new situation.
And it would occupy the cot so Obed couldn’t sleep there. If she forced a physical closeness, refused to let him retreat, perhaps he would eventually open up and allow a more complete intimacy. She feared for the magic if Obed kept himself so shut off from her, not to mention the heartache it caused. Why did he have to wait until she had come to love him before pulling back this way?
When she nodded, Joh sat on the cot and unwrapped one of the chains looped around his ankle bands. Kallista watched, intrigued. She hadn’t known the extra chains were more than decorative. Joh threaded the chain through a painted metal eyebolt near the door and snapped it shut with the click of a lock.
“I hope we have the key.” She raised an eyebrow at Torchay before looking back at Joh who was now pulling off his tunic. “Those chains are more than a century old.”
Torchay hung his tunic on a hook by the bed. “It’s on my dress uniform belt. I forgot it when you returned the chains to the Reinine last fall.”
“Did you bring your dress uniform?” Kallista drew back the velvet coverlet, exposing silken sheets.
“We were coming to court. Of course I brought it. You brought yours, too.”
Obed was standing motionless where she’d pushed him, his face shut down, eyes unfocused, seeming to stare inward. Kallista dragged his Southron robe from his shoulders, startling him to awareness.
“Get ready for bed.” She held on to the robe when he would have shrugged it back on. “You’re sleeping here. With us.”
With great dignity, he inclined his head, expression mask-like. “As you wish.”
Kallista sighed, stripping down to her chemise and smalls while Obed slowly removed his weapons, then his tunic and boots. He eyed Torchay who waited bare-chested, wearing only his knee-length
