The Wandering God

18 In Sight But Out of Reach 3/4

Ao made no move to take it from him. "I don't need it," she said.

Wordlessly, Zakhar unscrewed the lid. Setting the small jar on Ao's makeup table, he scooped out a glob of the clear substance with one large fingertip. The mixture smelled of mint and other balmy herbs he couldn't distinguish.

Zakhar expected Ao to jerk away, but she held still as Zakhar carefully, carefully, spread the ointment across the bruises riddling her lower jaw and chin. Some of the bruises looked distinctly like fingerprints.

Ao's eyes did not meet his own, just looked over his shoulder. The light was at her back, but he could tell they were brighter than usual.

He did not know she was crying until something warm dropped onto his hand.

A second later, Zakhar had the girl he loved pressed to his chest. He could not hear her sobs, but he felt her shake against him.

"I want to kill him," she said, into Zakhar's broad chest, voice muffled. "I want to kill him, but I can't."

Zakhar felt his rage overwhelm him, his skin flushing hot and cold. He took a deep breath, then another. That was not what Ao needed right now. Hand trembling, he stroked Ao's back, feeling her long silky smooth hair sliding under his palm.

Ao kept her face buried in his chest for a long time. She made no sound, but the occasional gasp of air, and a few muttered words. Most of them Zakhar interpreted as directed toward Guang Han, but there was one phrase, said again and again, that he could not understand.

"They took it from me. It was mine, and they took it."

"Who did? What did they take?" asked Zakhar. But Ao never answered.

Finally Ao, sat back. The light from the window had faded. She turned to light a lamp at her makeup table, then studied her bruises in the mirror.

"This will be a hassle to cover," she said. Her voice was cracked, but had returned to its usual, contemptuous tone.

"No need to. I will tell Sanli what happened. He can break off the engagement. Stay in here and rest for a few days."

"Break off the engagement? Whatever for?" Ao opened a drawer and took out a jar of powder, which she began applying to her chin. "I told you, I fell from my horse."

Zakhar froze. "Ao, what are you doing?"

She turned and smiled at him, and even with the bruises about her chin, she was still terrifyingly beautiful. "Why, applying my makeup, of course."

"You don't have to marry him!" Zakhar's voice was loud, desperate. "Whatever it is, the money, the position, Sanli can give it to you. Please Ao, you cannot marry the dragon! He'll do this again, or worse."

Ao's smile tightened, and she turned back to her mirror, gently applying powder to her chin. "And on what basis do you tell me I cannot marry him? Because you worry for me as a friend? Or because you are jealous as a man?"

Zakhar faltered. "I didn't... I just can't stand the thought of—"

Ao set down the powder and turned to him. "Are you truly worried he will hurt me? That I will feel sad?" Zakhar tensed as Ao twisted in her seat, threading her slim arms about his neck. He smelt the balm on her chin and the jasmine oil in her hair as she came close, bringing her mouth to his ear.

When it came, her voice was dark and sultry, and made his skin prickle. "Or... are you thinking, it's another man who gets to hold this waist? Gets to kiss these lips, gets to run his fingers through my hair at night? Is that what you cannot stand?" she whispered against his cheek, breath warm.