A weight settled onto the bed behind her, and Fang blinked sleepily at the press of a soft mouth against her cheek. It lingered for a few seconds, gold tusks warm and smooth on her skin. "Go back to sleep," Valen murmured in her ear, then tucked a few strands of her hair behind it. "I'll be back in an hour or so."
"Hmm? Oh, okay..." She dropped her head back to the pillow and drifted, barely conscious enough to notice the silk pulling up over her shoulders. Floating back down into the comfortable darkness of dreams, Fang snuggled with a silk-cased pillow for a while until the need to use the facilities brought her awake. She stood under the shower letting the water bring her fully around and thinking. Valen had spent a few minutes huddled up behind her in bed the night before, absently running his short claws through her hair and nuzzling the back of her neck. Fang reached behind her head and touched the spot on her nape where he'd rubbed his nose and occasionally touched with his lips. He's so cuddly, I feel like he's spoiling me. Sex was one thing, this sweetness and affection was another. And as of late, Valen's attentions were less centered on his appetite for sex than they were Fang in general. The ride on Ika, Fang realized, was just the first time she'd really noticed it. Something had happened after he'd caught her sliding off of the manyu, in that moment where she'd taken hold of his sleeves and looked up into those very-not-human orange-and-amber eyes with their tall, narrow pupils, nevertheless bright with intelligence and uncomfortably familiar emotion: fear.
He's doing a really good job hiding it most of the time, but he's scared too. He's worried about failing and what that would mean for us. It didn't take a genius to consider that if Valen failed in his task, Fang might be trapped with him until either Matias was satisfied or finally decided enough was enough and broke the contract. Or worse, until Tias became the Dragon Emperor and decided to make their lives miserable in some stupidly inventive way. It wasn't much of an intellectual stretch to think that after a decade or so of their forced relationship, she might turn bitter and resentful. The stress would get to them eventually, perhaps locking them in a dead marriage that neither wanted.
I said I'd choose him, however long it takes, but I don't know if that's true. And Valen's so young, who's to say he never would have met a Drass woman who doesn't care about how short he is? Maybe there's a girl out there who also stopped growing, and I'm keeping him from finding her. Fang's chest twinged at the thought, and as she washed and rinsed her face she wondered why that should be. I'm just sad for him, it's my fault he's in this position. If I hadn't signed that paper... Sometimes Fang wondered how her life would be different if she'd turned down the job, if she'd just begged Pina to give her enough money to escape Anun, if she'd gone to the Wardens and told them she was a traveler who'd just had her ID and money stolen, if, if, if! Stop it, no use crying over fallen snow – I'm here now, all I can do is pick up a shovel and deal with it.
Stepping out of the shower she heard the door chime and pulled on her long green wrapper to investigate. Abita, Lady Yena's chief maid, stood patiently in the hall with an elegantly folded envelope in hand. Fang swallowed, remembering what happened the last time someone handed her a piece of paper, but she took it and read slowly the vertical columns of Yena's precise, efficient hand:
Lady Lienfang –
Please accept this formal invitation to a ladies' tea in my suite this afternoon, during the common dinner hour. We will be joined by Lady Consorts Aisana and Shisa and the young Lady Rashanna. Lunch will be provided, as will conversation and discussion of Imperial events.
NO BOYS ALLOWED!
Fang smiled at that. "'No boys allowed'?" She glanced up at Abita, who nodded with an air of matronly seriousness that clashed with the conspiratorial glint in her yellow eyes.
"Yes, Her Ladyship was quite specific that should your Prince ask, I was to be firm. May I deliver your response, My Lady?"
For a half-second Fang heard Valen's pleading voice. Please, My Lady... She forced herself to nod. "Yes, I'll be there."
Abita bowed courteously. "As you say, My Lady. May I add, your reading has improved much – His Majesty will be pleased."
"Um, thank you, 'Bita, I've been working hard."
"I'm sure Prince Valen has been quite helpful." The knowing smile on the Drass woman's face said something else. "Begging your leave, My Lady." She bowed again, and over her lowered head Fang saw Valen returning from his training appointment. His choppy hair stuck out in several odd directions and the sleeves of his short cream-colored robe were rolled up to his elbows; he was rotating his wrist and wincing vaguely. Abita straightened. "Are you hurt, Your Highness?"
"Hngh? Oh, no, not really." Valen shook his head. "Freya just got a good whack in because I wasn't paying attention." His eyes came up and met Fang's, and for a brief second she wondered if his eyes had always been that unusually handsome shade of amber-orange. Is it the lighting? Perhaps it was the contrast between his training clothes and skin, the deep scarlet of his scales intense against his robes' cream-white. With the sleeves rolled up Fang could watch the muscle in his forearm roll under his scales as he turned and flexed his wrist. Drass skin was too thick to see veins or tendons, but the long humps of dense flesh surged under and stretched it, separating at wrist and knuckle like fine cracks in stiff leather. "Fang?"
Fang jerked her gaze up and away, baffled and disturbed. What's wrong with me? "Huh? What is it?" Why am I staring at his hands?
"I asked if you had breakfast yet." Valen looked strangely at her, squinting slightly. "Are you all right? You seem... distracted."
"Oh, um... I-I haven't had any coffee, I'm not awake yet." She watched his face ease.
"Hngh." Valen nodded, "I'll go clean up if you'll talk to the kitchen, will that be all right?" Though he looked like he believed her, he added that final touch of courtesy with a slight tilt of his head, like he was waiting to see if she really was well. Fang assured him she was fine with a lame smile, waving him along so she could shut the door – though the suite was cozy with its hearth and rugs, the outer hall with its forty-foot ceilings and stone walls blew a chill each time they went in or out.
The same steward brought them breakfast as usual, and when he greeted Fang it was with an almost bored affect – he was used to her by now, and bowed as deeply as though she were a Drassian by blood; Fang thanked him with equal respect. She sat before the hearth and was laying a thick smear of soft cheese on dark bread when Valen emerged from the bedroom, his favorite charcoal-and-red wrapper belted loose around his waist. Fang's hands stilled; where the flexible plates on his chest met ran a strip of softer skin as wide as Fang's two fingers. Fang dragged her eyes down to the crusty dark bread in her hands and tried to focus on the sound of the blunt knife scraping over the toasted edges. Don't be weird.
"Pass the coffee?" Valen gestured for the carafe in front of her, and as Fang looked up she momentarily froze at the sight of him, his damp hair clustering around his ears and horns and framing his face in shining black. Just then, the unbidden thought that one day she might not see this again surfaced and attached a weight to her heart. I'm going to miss this when I leave, I'm going to miss him. Her throat closed and the piece of bread she'd just swallowed lodged just behind her tongue – in that brief shocking moment, her heart skidded to a stop and cold unease settled around it.
It amazed her that her hands didn't shake as she lifted the carafe. Why did I think that? I should want to leave. But leaving would mean no more shared breakfasts, no more quiet moments just before they went to sleep where Valen wrapped an arm around her body to keep her warm and his tail wound around her ankle like a tender vine. Once freed, Fang would have to sleep alone again and keep herself warm. Money didn't concern her now that she had millions of kai, but now she realized she would face an entirely different kind of poverty. Stop it, just because you'll be able to leave doesn't mean you can't visit, right? No doubt Valen would miss her too. There's no reason he wouldn't be able to come see me if he wanted to. We're friends, that part doesn't have to change just because we wouldn't live together anymore.
Valen speared a paper-thin ribbon of roasted shaved meat and folded it onto a thick wedge of dark bread. "What was 'Bita here for?"
"Um, Yena invited me to a tea this afternoon, it's at the same time as your meeting."
He made a face over his coffee. "Let me guess, Ladies only?"
"Mm-hmm, no boys allowed."
"I'm jealous, I'd rather have tea with Yena than talk about import taxes – Eyah, I'd rather talk about that with Yena!" He popped the rest of the bread and meat in his mouth. "Even with 'Sana there, it'll be more fun than listening to some accountant drone on and on about profit margins and interest."
"Should I be worried about her?"
Valen shook his head as he stirred a spoonful of dried chopped fruit into a bowl of boiled grain. "She's so big right now she won't have the breath to argue with anyone. Shisa might be entertaining, though if she starts talking about the history of left-handed brushes run for your life." He grinned; Fang remembered him saying something about Morden's woman being a bit odd. "Don't worry, Yena will look after you."
When Valen dropped her off at Yena and Aeden's quarters, the uncomfortable feeling of dread returned as Fang recognized the hulking shape of Tias lurking at the edge of the hall, hovering anxiously near his Consort who waddled under the weight of her massive pregnancy. Ashes, she's going to explode! Behind them, looking bored and appalled at being in the presence of so many adults, trailed the young Rashanna poking at a small tablet in her hand. Lady Aisana puffed, wheezing as she struggled along with one hand gripped fiercely on the First Prince's wrist and shooting sour glances at him. At first Tias didn't notice Fang or Valen, his attention on his obviously uncomfortable partner, but when he did look up his brows knotted at the sight of them. "Tch, if I'd known the whore would be here I wouldn't have brought 'Shanna."
Aisana gasped between steps, sweating with the effort of walking. "If you hadn't... been so stupid... wouldn't be a problem... in the first place." She blasted Tias with a withering glare and the First Prince shrank by an inch. "No one to... blame but yourself."
"'Sana–" Tias began to protest, but the Lady Consort hissed sharply and Tias did the smart thing for once and shut his mouth. Fang tapped Valen's hand, and when he caught on the tilt of his ears spelled mischief – unlike humans, Drass were easy to read if one knew what to look for. They shared a glance of mutual understanding, but before Fang could think up a likely preamble Valen slid his hand down the bodice of her robe and pulled her against him. The sudden movement and Fang's surprised squeak drew Tias's attention – along with that of Shisa, Rashanna, Aisana and everyone else – and a few snorts and chuckles as Valen nearly bent Fang backwards to plant a kiss. On instinct Fang's hand grasped for purchase and found the back of his neck; Valen grunted at the pull on his hair and gripped Fang tighter, growling softly against her mouth. "Fang, my fourteen-year-old niece is here."
"You started it," Fang murmured back. Valen pulled away and she wondered at the disappointment in her belly. I don't remember wanting to stop...
"Hngh, and when I get back I'm going to finish what I started." He punctuated with a kiss to Fang's cheek before he released her. In a louder voice, he added "Don't let Yen keep you too long." He stepped back and departed, leaving Fang on her own.