Rebel's Honor(28)

"Rest assured," Mott continued. "My brother will take great delight in watching your every movement."

Felix hobbled over to join them.

Mott grabbed Lynx's chin, forcing her to look at him again. "Princess  Lynx of Norin, I will tolerate your flagrant disregard of my dress rules  only because my son seems to like ogling you. So, you may wear your  skimpy dresses, but know this: unless you wish the view from your  bedchamber to be forever marred by the sight of your parents' rotting  heads, you will provide me with the grandson I seek. Now go and do as  I've commanded."

Lynx turned and headed for the door, hoping her ramrod-straight back hid  the anger and revulsion roiling within her at this terrifying threat.

Mother Saskia waited for her outside the emperor's office. "Come,  Princess, I will escort you back to your chamber." Fighting against  trembling limbs, Lynx walked with her in silence until they were almost  at the top of the stairs leading to her apartment.

Finally, the priestess smiled stiffly. "You look pale, Princess, even for a Norin."

Lynx's fingers sought her hair, finding a new lock to twirl. The last  thing she wanted was to discuss the emperor's threats with the  she-witch, so she changed the subject. "Why did you fetch me? It's  hardly the job for someone of your station."

The priestess's lips twitched. "The emperor commands, and I obey. It's  what we all do." They reached the landing, and the priestess turned her  back on the guardsmen standing at attention there. Whispering so softly  Lynx had to strain to hear, she added, "Remember, my dear, there is no  place in Chenaya for powerful women." She glided away before Lynx  replied.

Lynx watched her go in astonishment and then walked to Kestrel's room.  She stopped at the door and heard gentle snoring. It seemed her sister  had not been called. She rested her forehead against the wooden  doorframe.

None of this made sense, although it did explain the surprising contents  of her wardrobe. Still, surely, the emperor could see Kestrel was best  suited for marriage to Lukan? Kestrel would probably be delighted to  sleep with the crown prince, bearing him an army of children, if that  was what they wanted, so why was Mott bombarding her with unreasonable  threats? Threats she had no doubt he would carry out.

And forcing Tao to marry a Norin? What was that about? Why would he want  more Norin blood in his line? Weren't there other families in his  empire he could terrorize into coughing up a daughter to marry his son?

She had no answers.

There was only one certainty: she and Lukan had to produce a child. But  it was up to the Winds to decide if that child would be a son.                       
       
           



       





Chapter 19





Lynx was still curled up in bed after her night pondering Mott's threats when she heard footsteps at her door.

Someone knocked.

Her heart leaped in her chest. "What now?" she whispered, reluctantly getting up to investigate.

A guardsman stood at attention. He bowed and then spoke in a monotone  voice, "Your Highness, I am commanded to tell you that the prenuptial  breakfast will commence in one hour. Your lady-in-waiting will be along  to collect you."

Lynx nodded her thanks, and the soldier knocked on Kestrel's door.  Without waiting to greet her sister, Lynx closed her door and made her  way to her dressing room.

A silky red dress caught her eye.

She grabbed it before she could change her mind. After Mott's threats,  she could no longer afford to reject Lukan's advances, and after their  spat the night before, she had some work to do to rekindle Lukan's  ardor. Dressing in scarlet and styling her hair was a small sacrifice to  make for her family's safety.

"I can always pull a pillowslip over my head on our wedding night so I  don't have to look at him." She grimaced; it was unlikely he'd notice-he  was so obsessed with the rest of her.

Images of Axel's strong face, lean body, and beautiful forearms floated  before her mind's eye. Her stomach flipped, shooting desire through  every fiber. She gritted her teeth against it and tried to think of  Heron, but Axel's wicked smile mocked her attempt to evict him.

"What's the matter with me?" she muttered. "Axel is not only a Chenayan,  he's an Avanov, and he sent guardsmen to murder my people."

Frowning in disgust at herself, she grabbed the dress, some underwear,  and a dainty pair of red boots, then headed for her bathroom.

Despite her stress, she grinned with childlike glee as she surveyed the  marble bath, big enough for her to lie in. What's more, it was plumbed  with unlimited hot water. Back in Norin, she had to carry buckets of  warm water into her tent to fill a small metal drum when she bathed.  This was pure luxury, the kind even she could get used to.

She turned on the tap and closed the door to trap the steam. In the  corner of the room stood an elegant dresser laden with a dozen pretty  glass jars. She dumped her clothes on the floor and opened the lid of  the closest one. The sweet scent of orange blossom wafted up to her.  Squealing with delight, she plucked the stopper off the next jar and  then the next, until the room was flooded with the heady scent of a  dozen exotic flowers and spices.

Perfume had always been her one feminine guilty pleasure, but she could  rarely afford to buy any. Heron had once given her a tiny bottle, bought  at a market in Lapis. She'd eked it out, making it last for years. Now,  here on this dresser, waited more sweet-smelling things than she could  have dreamed possible.

Quivering with delight, she stepped back, considering which oil to use  in her first palace bath. Her hand hovered over the jasmine and flitted  to the frankincense before darting to the rose. Unable to decide, she  finally poured a couple of drops from each bottle into the water. She  closed her eyes and drank in the scent.

Glorious? Oh, yes. Overpowering? Maybe a little.

Right now, she didn't care.

Lynx lowered herself into the water and lay back to soak. Her skin was  beginning to wrinkle when a respectful knock on her apartment door  ripped her from her quiet meditation.

Panicked, she leaped out of the water, grabbed a towel and her clothes,  half-drying, half-dressing as she raced into her bedroom. She poked her  head around the apartment door, but whoever had called was gone. That  didn't mean she had time to waste. She was busy with her hair when  Kestrel rapped on her door.

"Come on, Lynx. I'm starving. What are you doing in there?"

"I'm coming. I'm coming." Lynx shoved bits of hair back into the bun she  was trying to construct. She'd seen a painting once of a girl with her  hair in a knot, tendrils curling down her face. Heron had said it looked  pretty-for someone without feathers and beads. "It's just . . . damn,  how can this be so hard?"

Kestrel threw open the door. And gasped. "You look . . . stunning. But-but isn't scarlet a bit much for breakfast?"

"Is it?" Lynx started tugging at the ribbons on her corset. "What's a breakfast color, then?"

"Leave it." Kestrel crossed the room in a blur of cream taffeta. "It's  perfect for you." Her sister's nose twitched and then erupted with  sneezes. Finally, she managed to croak, "Oh my word, Lynx. The oils. How  many did you use?"

"Why? What's wrong?" Lynx sniffed her arm but detected nothing strange.                       
       
           



       

"You used them all, didn't you?" Kestrel said, breathing through her mouth.

"I guess," Lynx replied, feeling sheepish. Kestrel was always so much better at the girly stuff than she could ever hope to be.

"Everyone in a five mile radius of you is going to know we Norin are  peasants-low-borns-who know nothing about how to use fine things. You  will have to bathe again."

Lynx was about to say she didn't care what they thought, but she stopped herself, because it wasn't true.

She did care. Very much. Her parents' lives depended on her, and she could not fail them.

That reminded her that she hadn't told Kestrel about Mott's threat. She  opened her mouth to speak when someone cleared her throat.

"You're out of time," Kestrel said. "Just keep downwind of everyone."

Both Lynx and Kestrel turned to the open door.

A tall, stately woman with a sparkling sapphire next to her eye stood  there. Lynx's first thought was that she looked like Mott's mistress,  only older. A sister perhaps?

The woman jerked into a perfunctory curtsy, causing her spectacular  bejeweled gown to shimmer in the light gleaming from the wall sconces.

"Good morning, Princesses. I am Lady Tatiana." Her husky voice and the  deep fissures in her tired skin, pasted with makeup, suggested that  she'd spent too many nights in smoke-filled gambling rooms. Her nose  twitched, and she sneezed. "By the Dragon, it's fruity in here. Perhaps I  should have come by earlier." Sharp eyes darted to Lynx, and her lip  curled. "Who knew I would need to teach you how to bathe?"