The Devil's Concubine Read online

  At the comment, Aliya turned from her contemplation to look at him again, allowing a faint smile to curl her lips. “I would rather entertain myself with the design I would like to carve into your hide,” she said with false sweetness.

  His brows rose, but in a moment a smile curled one corner of his well etched lips. Instead of commenting on the episode between them a few moments before, however, as she more than half feared he would, he merely said, “You will stay here.”

  “And where will you be staying, your grace?”

  His smile flattened. “Here.”

  “Then you may want to consider sleeping in armor.”

  He didn’t look the least disconcerted by the threat. He seemed to consider it, but finally shook his head. “I prefer to sleep naked,” he murmured, his golden eyes glinting with both humor and promise. Turning then, he quit the room before she could gather the presence of mind to find something to hurl at him.

  Chapter Six

  If Aliya had given it any thought, she would have been certain that she was not only not hungry but that the thought of food alone was enough to make her feel ill after all she’d been through. She discovered, though, that her stomach wasn’t as delicate as her sensibilities. The maids arrived as promised, one with a tray of food and another with a stack of folded fabric that Aliya rightly assumed was the clothes that were on loan until Talin could have her ‘trinkets’ fetched.

  That rankled. It was bad enough to be kidnapped by the spawn of the underworld gods and to be held against her will, but to have her needs and comfort dismissed as nothing more significant than ‘trinkets’ made her feel just as insignificant. If he had such a low opinion of her, she couldn’t imagine why he’d gone to such trouble.

  Unless it had been sheer contrariness and the desire to create disharmony?

  She could easily have believed that, except that she couldn’t think of any reason at all why he’d want to pick a fight with her father.

  She was inclined to dismiss the ‘great insult’ he claimed. He was certainly very proud. She could see that, but he considered all of the unnaturals, himself in particular, to be far superior to the naturals. He had as much as said that he did not consider her worthy of being his queen, and that being the case it seemed unreasonable to also be insulted by anything the ‘lesser’ beings beneath him did.

  Why should he care that he’d been excluded?

  Dismissing it after a time as an unsolvable riddle, she ate the food that had been brought, enjoying it far more, she felt, than she should have under the circumstances, and watched while the maids brought in a tub and prepared a bath.

  Her belly clenched in dread.

  She wanted a bath. More than that, she needed one after all the time she’d spent in that devil’s dungeon, but he’d ensconced her in his suite. She could not be certain that she would have privacy to bathe and she was fairly sure that, if it was possible to die of mortification, she would if he came in and watched.

  She was very torn. The other considerations aside, she felt her dignity had suffered a very great deal already and it went against the grain to allow him to know just how scared she was about the entire situation and how unnerved she was about the possibility of being observed in her bath. She wanted to present a façade, at least, of royal unconcern--perhaps even disdain.

  By the time she’d finished eating and the bath was prepared, she’d decided she would have her bath and to hell with the man--beast--whatever. She was sore from everything that had happened, and dirty, and tense. A hot bath would go a long way toward improving her outlook.

  She was tense, though, while the maids helped her undress and then assisted her into the tub. Vaguely relieved that he hadn’t suddenly appeared in the midst of that part of the process, she found she still couldn’t relax and actually enjoy the bath. Instead, she rushed through it, hopping out as soon as she’d bathed and grabbing the drying cloth to wrap herself.

  She discovered then that the only ‘clothing’ the maids had brought for her was night dresses. Shock very quickly gave way to anger, but it was already too late. The maids had taken her gown away and, when she demanded to have it back, explained that it was already in the laundry since they thought she might want to wear it the following day.

  It sounded reasonable enough, but Aliya still wanted to strangle the maids. Unfortunately, that would not change her dilemma--sit around in nothing more than a thin cloth? Or sit around in nothing more than a thin night dress? She finally opted for one of the night dresses for the simple reason that she could at least put that on and wouldn’t have to worry about trying to hold it together.

  When she was dressed, she dismissed them, moving across the room to settle in the chair while they removed the bath, cleaned the room, and finally left her to her solitude.

  Once they’d gone, she sat for a time smoothing the roughly woven fabric over her lap and trying not to think of anything at all. Idleness bred thought, though, and she found herself wondering about the strange land she’d found herself in, and most particularly the king of the tribe of golden falcon, Talin.

  No one needed to tell her Talin had no layman in the castle. The gowns were of such poor quality it was obvious they belonged to the maids--unless he did have a mistress, but she’d refused to give up anything for the master’s ‘new whore’?

  Not that she cared. He could have a hundred mistresses! A thousand!

  The bastard!

  She frowned at that thought, vaguely uneasy as to why she cared enough to even disapprove--most men had them and kings were most certainly no exception. Although her father was very discrete, she knew he had several and had probably had them even before her mother had died.

  It almost seemed strange, though, to find herself comparing him, and his behavior, to her father, or any of the nobles she knew for that matter.

  He was an unnatural. She had never thought to be around one. To everyone she knew, they were looked upon as nightmare creatures barely human at all. Most folk believed they were the spawn of the gods of the underworld, devils, demons, fiends--and she supposed she had, too.

  She hadn’t expected that they could look so--human! She supposed it was to be expected that they would assume a pleasing form when they walked about as humans, but they shouldn’t have been able to when they were evil creatures. They should look evil to make it easier for real people to tell what they were.

  Now that she had met Talin, she had to wonder how often these devils walked among them, completely undetected.

  That was almost the most unnerving part of her situation. Talin walked and talked and looked and acted like any natural, and the more time that passed, the more difficult it was for her to keep the terrifying image of him in his beast form in her mind, particularly since she’d gotten little more than a glimpse of him in that form to start with.

  She found herself reacting to him and interacting with him as if he was a real human. She’d fought him, argued with him, cursed him--threatened him even, as if, in the back of her mind, she’d still believed that her position was some sort of protection.

  Worse, it seemed abundantly clear to her when this was the case after less than a full day that she was going to be deeply under the spell of his deception before long. She did not find him repulsive, as she knew she should, far from it. Before she’d known what he was she’d thought him very handsome, dangerously attractive. Now, even knowing dangerous was the key word, she was almost as drawn to him by his dangerous appeal as she was unnerved by it.

  Did any of that truly matter, though, she wondered? What could she possibly do to keep him from taking what he’d made it clear he wanted? If he had been a natural born man, she could not have fought him off. The unnaturals were far stronger than their human counterparts.

  That thought instantly conjured what he’d done to her earlier.

  And the memory resurrected the sensations she’d felt before.

  She’d done her best not to think about any of that since he’d left. The ma
ids had been a welcome distraction, making it easier for her to do so, but it was an issue she couldn’t continue to ignore.

  He’d taken liberties with her that no one ever had before. He would almost certainly take more than that small taste of his possession.

  It occurred to her that she hadn’t been trying to avoid thinking about it because it had been so shocking, but because her reaction to it had been. Something had stirred to life inside of her when he’d touched her that she didn’t want to face. She wasn’t completely certain of what that something was, but, search though she might, she couldn’t find so much as a trace of revulsion.

  Shame began to trickle inside of her and ended in a flood when she realized that she’d been as fascinated and intrigued by his shocking behavior as she had been stunned and debilitated.

  She frowned at that thought, trying to decide exactly how she had felt. Strange probably described the sensations best, because she’d never felt anything quite like it. There had been guilt, too, because he had touched her so intimately and she knew that was wrong when he wasn’t her husband, and yet she was very much afraid that that was part of her fascination--experiencing the forbidden.

  She couldn’t remember a time when she had not been surrounded by women whose job it was to attend her needs and also to protect her from the things she, as a maiden, was not supposed to know. She’d been curious, though. When her body had begun to change, her mind had also and she’d found herself wanting to know those things forbidden for her to know, and to experience some of the things whispered around her when they thought she either couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t understand.

  It had been easy enough to find out about kissing. With so many men and women living in the castle she had caught glimpses of couples entwined many times, their lips locked together and expressions on their faces that she’d first thought was pain. She’d felt like a fool when she realized that it was that elusive something called passion, but other than that she’d discovered very little.

  Kissing, she’d been told, was the first step to ruin. She was not to even allow so much as that--if any man so forgot himself as to try it--because it would lead to ‘more.’

  Ladies were supposed to be pure of mind and body, and that was even more critical for a young girl who would one day be queen. She was to focus upon affairs of state, to concentrate her energies on learning what would be required of her as mistress of a kingdom. The marriage bed was only incidental to her station, since she would be required to produce heirs for her husband.

  But no one had considered it important to explain to her just how she was to go about that most important task. The only thing she’d been told was that it was ‘natural’ and she would know what to do when the time came. She would have her husband’s guidance to help her.

  Feeling abruptly restless and vaguely angry, she got up from the chair where she’d been sitting for so long that she’d begun to ache with the inactivity and began to pace.

  Her ignorance was no protection to her now. Talin had seemed downright amused by her refusal to kiss him. Obviously, not kissing him wasn’t going to prevent him from doing ‘the thing,’ that vague ‘something’ that she knew men and women must do to produce heirs that took place behind closed doors and involved tussling about and moaning and groaning.

  She’d only stumbled upon that part of the ‘forbidden knowledge’ once, and she hadn’t been able to get up the nerve to try to peek and see what they were doing, but she’d heard and she’d known instinctively, as she’d been told she would, what was going on. Or rather, she’d gotten a general idea of what must be happening, for her mind had conjured images of the couple writhing against one another and kissing--which she knew was what started the rest.

  Thinking about what they were doing, she realized suddenly, had made her feel just as she’d felt when Talin had kissed her breast, warm and strange and vaguely guilty.

  Her belly tightened at the thought and fear of the unknown began to wrestle with the other sensations. He’d promised he wouldn’t harm her, but she distinctly recalled that she’d seen more than one maid weeping after she’d disappeared with her swain one evening. Later, most of them had seemed to recover. Some had even seemed happy, almost deliriously so, but she hadn’t been able to get the weeping out of her mind, or the sense that the maidens were maiden no longer, and that they were hurt, physically and emotionally.

  Realizing she was scaring herself, Aliya struggled to put that from her mind. Thinking about what she was facing wasn’t helping, for all she could do was pace faster in an effort to outrun her thoughts.

  Growing tired after a while, she stared at the bed longingly for several moments and finally moved back to the chair.

  Maybe she couldn’t prevent it from happening to her, but she was NOT going to climb into the bed and lie there as if she was meekly awaiting her fate!

  Hours passed, or so it seemed. Alternately pacing and resting in the chair, Aliya listened in vain for the heavy tread outside the door that would tell her the agonizing wait was over and she would have to face the unknown. She grew more and more tired. Finally, despite her anxiety, she found her eyelids growing heavy with the need to sleep.

  Curling up in the hard chair, she shifted and squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position and finally dozed off.

  The candles had guttered out when she woke and the room lay in darkness save for the thin streams of light that found their way between the planks that made up the shutters and door. Still drugged with sleep, she shifted, trying to ease the pain from her cramped position and finally sat up and peered at the bed.

  It was empty.

  It looked so inviting that she finally struggled to her feet, staggered to the bed and crawled in. At once, a vaguely familiar scent wafted up to her from the pillow she plumped under her head. Feeling comforted for no particular reason that she could figure out, she relaxed and sought oblivion once more.

  The whisper of voices, the soft scuff of feet along the floor stones, and the faint tinkling of china woke her. For several moments, her mind simply accepted the familiarity of it. Slowly, awareness came to her that none of the voices she heard were the least familiar to her and she managed to crack one eyelid to see what was going on around her.

  Uneasiness pierced the dregs of sleep that still enveloped her when she saw nothing familiar. There were no bed hangings to protect her from drafts and annoying insects. The mounds of pillows she was accustomed to were gone as well, leaving only the lumpy one beneath her head. The coverlet she was huddled beneath was of good quality, but the color was dull, more brown than gold, and certainly not the cheerful pattern of purple flowers that should have covered her.

  With dread dawning, she slowly pushed herself upright and looked around the room in time to see the last of the maids departing.

  Glumly, she looked around the tower room as her changed fortunes sank into her fully. As nightmarish as the day before seemed to her now, it was, unfortunately, reality, not the frightening dream that she’d hoped it was.

  She’d already laid back down and pulled the covers over her head before it dawned on her that she’d been sleeping in Talin’s bed. In her haste to evacuate, she tangled her legs in the bedding and sprawled in the floor.

  The fall seemed to rattle her brain. For several moments, she lay still, evaluating the level of pain she could feel. Finally, she pushed herself up and managed to get to her feet.

  The maids, she saw, had brought in fresh water and a tray of food. When she’d assured herself she was still in the room alone, she moved to the pitcher and basin that had been brought to her and washed her face and teeth.

  She wasn’t accustomed to eating in the morning and an odd mixture of hunger and nausea washed over her as she smelled the scent of food. After a moment’s thought, though, she decided to see if she could eat anything. She felt weak and uncommonly weary, and the urge to climb back into bed and go back to sleep was strong. She reminded herself that she had no desire to be caught in T
alin’s bed--not by Talin.

  The hot tea, she discovered, went a long way toward reviving her. Nibbling on a scone, she settled in the chair and looked around the room thoughtfully, wondering what seemed out of place.

  It occurred to her finally, that it wasn’t that anything was out of place, but that something she’d expected to find wasn’t there.

  Her lips tightened. The maids had told her they’d taken her gown to lauder it. They hadn’t brought it back.

  Slamming her tea cup back on the tray so hard she was a little surprised it didn’t shatter, she surged to her feet and searched the room, knowing even before she did so that it was unlikely her dress would turn up.

  It didn’t. The chests in the room contained nothing but men’s clothing--Talin’s clothes. Slamming the lip of the last closed, she looked around the room for a bell pull to summon the maids and discovered there wasn’t one.

  She supposed that accounted for Talin’s tendency to bellow for servants when he wanted them.

  She glared at the door for some time, fighting the urge to march over to it and pound on it until somebody came. At best, such a thing would probably be useless since she doubted she could pound, or scream, loud enough to be heard over the din no doubt going on down in the great hall. At worst, it might bring Talin himself.

  She moved back to the chair. The maids would come back, she assured herself, to remove the tray. When they did, she would give them a piece of her mind if they didn’t have her gown when they came.

  The food grew cold. Her anger dissipated at roughly the same rate as the heat from the food, and without that to sustain her, weariness set in.

  She’d had very little sleep, she knew, and the activities of the day before had already strained her physically and emotionally. Realizing that she was going to nod off in the chair if she continued to sit, she got to her feet and began exploring the room.

  There wasn’t much to explore. She’d already rifled through all of the chests and not only had she not found anything in any of them of any interest, but she didn’t particularly want to risk being caught plundering through Talin’s personal belongings.