Her sister was not so reticent about accepting the cash. Kestrel smiled, holding out her hand. "I'll have it, if she doesn't want it."
Axel threw a smile Kestrel's way and then addressed Lynx. "Our only excitement will be dodging Mother Saskia and playing dice. The food's not too bad, either," he admitted as an afterthought. "As your uncle disapproves of using your legs as chips, you will need cash."
Lynx's face flushed. With a small swagger, she snatched the money and dropped it onto her lap. "I love a challenge. And don't for a minute think I will let you even that score, General." A shimmer of a smile played on her perfect lips, pulling his eyes from her reddened cheeks. "So, anytime you're ready."
His stomach flipped unexpectedly. Startled, he brushed the sensation away by challenging, "A one, a six, and a four. That was your last call, if my memory serves." He tossed three dice onto the table and followed up with a hundred mycek bill to start the bidding.
Lynx's eyebrows shot up. "How typically Chenayan. You expect me to counter your measly hundred with one of my thousands?"
Axel ramped up his sardonic smile, ignoring her slight that Chenayans always took more than they gave. It was true, but he wasn't getting into a political debate with a Norin. They were unwinnable. "It seems you have a problem, Princess. How's that scoreboard looking now?"
"Unchanged, General." Her voice was hard, leaving him in no doubt that Norin hatred of Chenayans ran deep in Lynx's veins. "I don't have problems. I have solutions." She jerked her skirt to the side, bunching folds of hideous pink onto her lap. With a thunk, she hoicked a foot onto the table, exposing her thigh. "Care to raise me? Or would it be easier to get your priestess to ‘immobilize' the problem? Fifteen guardsmen sent to my compartment while I'm sleeping might also work."
Axel's mouth dropped. She wasn't exactly holding back, was she? He wondered if she was always this volatile. Something told him she was.
A glance at Bear. Even the emissary, trained to keep a straight face regardless of the circumstances, looked aggrieved at the mention of the Norin massacre. Axel sent up a silent curse at Mott for the ordering the attack just days before he had to spend a week on a train with three outraged Norin.
Still, it would not serve him to expose his niggling conscience that the attack had been wrong on so many levels. He tossed another hundred into the center.
Lynx responded by sliding her other foot onto the table. Her fair skin, golden in the lamplight, sent a shiver of desire shooting through him. For a moment, he toyed with raising the ante, but he didn't trust Lynx.
Or Mother Saskia.
Drawn to their tussle, he sensed the priestess watching them from the other side of the room.
It was time to end this.
Axel flicked another hundred onto the table. Grinning at the unintended pun, he said, "I see you."
Lynx fisted the dice, brought them to her mouth, and blew on them for luck. Her pouted lips sent another blast of want through him. He rubbed the stubble on his jaw, unable to recall when last a woman had affected him like this. Teased, he corrected, since Lukan would be the only one who would ever get to sleep with her.
Face taut, Lynx threw the dice onto the table. Axel leaned forward to see how they'd fallen at exactly the same moment Lynx did. They bumped heads. He pulled back, laughing, but she scowled at him.
Crazy as it was, her reaction stung.
He quickly followed with a wicked smile and pointed to the dice. A three, a two, and a five gleamed up at him. "Looks like I've won, Princess." He pocketed his bet. "Two to one on the scoreboard."
"Don't let it go to your head, General. I have many more tricks up my sleeve."
He snorted a laugh, relishing her fire. "I bet you do, Princess. Any time you want to play, just bring it on."
Bear cleared his throat noisily.
Lynx's face flushed bright red, and her feet thudded to the floor. She yanked her skirt down, avoiding everyone's eyes.
Axel glanced around. Stefan looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow-a riot of expression from him. Kestrel's mouth hung open.
Had his standoff with Lynx been that interesting?
"Perhaps this would be a good time to confirm the arrangements for when we reach Cian." After another round of throat clearing, Bear said, "I have the emperor's assurance that the princesses will stay with me until the wedding."
Axel faced him, refusing to appear flustered. "Then you hardly need worry about my compliance."
"Forgive me, my lord, but I would be pleased to hear it from your own lips." Bear looked anything but mollified.
Axel grunted. The emissary must have learned through bitter experience that it was never wise to take a Chenayan assurance at face value-especially not one issued by Emperor Mott.
From the way Lynx leaned forward, he guessed she shared her uncle's concerns.
It was on the tip of his tongue to joke with her, but the two of them had already caused a stir. "You can rest assured, Lord Emissary. The emperor has given me my orders." Axel gestured to Stefan. "Now, if you'll forgive us, the colonel and I have matters of business to discuss." He stood, trusting Stefan's inscrutable face not to betray his surprise at the summons.
Stefan didn't fail him.
The skin on Axel's back tingled as he sensed Lynx watching him leave the compartment.
She belonged to Lukan, he told himself firmly. Unless-
Time, he told himself. He needed time to work out exactly what he and Princess Lynx of Norin could do for each other.
Chapter 11
Under the guise of exercise, Lynx sauntered the length of guard car, her destination on her twice-daily march down the train. Conscious of a dozen guardsmen watching her, she stopped at the open window in the locked steel door at the end of the car. Her tongue worked in her mouth, building up a juicy blob of saliva.
A shiver of satisfaction trilled through her at the thought of lobbing it at the railway tracks. It would be a small protest-but one that clearly showed her disapproval of the Chenayan Heartland through which the train now traveled.
But she didn't.
She needed something these troops had, and offending them wasn't going to help her cause, even though, not so long ago, she was shooting arrows into the backs of men just like them.
A voice spoke. "It's wonderful to see you again, Highness. Make our day, your visits do."
Lynx gritted her teeth and then turned to face the speaker.
He was a young sergeant with a pleasant face, marred by the pea-sized chunk of jasper next to his right eye.
She smiled like she was delighted to see him, too. "You have a way with words, Sergeant Pasha." She had made a conscious effort to remember as many names and ranks as possible, going as far as to start a cryptic dossier on Axel Avanov and Stefan Zarot. Every bit of information she gleaned could prove valuable to her father. "No one has welcomed me to Chenaya quite like you and your men."
Before arriving on this train, it had never occurred to Lynx to use her "assets" to get what she wanted in life, but she'd seen and learned from Axel and Stefan's reactions to her legs. If showing a bit of skin bamboozled these doltish Chenayans enough to get her what she needed to protect herself, her family, and her people, then so be it. Painfully aware of her blush of embarrassment, she leaned back against the door and extended her leg, making sure each soldier got a good look at its curves.
Some of them blushed, too; others looked down at their feet. All sneaked longing peeks at her flesh.
It helped that she wore one of her uncle's "training dresses."
The back was designed to accommodate the stupid bustle, with the fine black cotton and lace fabric skirting her ankles. Up top, she wore a black corset, which showed off more of her breasts than she would ever have dreamed of revealing at home. The lacy black skirt in front of the dress stopped just above the knee-a sight rarely, if ever, seen in Chenaya. Once at her uncle's home in Cian, the training dresses would be destroyed, and her hemline would plummet to her ankles.
With the soldiers' focus blown, it was time to get to the real purpose of this visit.
Lynx quickly scanned the room for a stray weapon she could filch before leaving. As usual, no axe or sword lay neglected on a table, waiting to be scooped up into her cloak. She sighed. How was she supposed to re-arm herself if they insisted on being so meticulous?
"Like I've said every day since you first arrived, ma'am, it builds the men's morale to have our future crown princess visit us," a ragged-toothed lieutenant added. "Maybe you'll even remember us when you are empress. Dragon's blessing on our great emperor, Mott the Magnificent."