Rebel's Honor(37)

Lynx's son in the vision had vanquished that Dragon.

Lukan forced a casualness he didn't feel into his voice. "Well, thanks  for clearing that up. So, if my heart is pinned to your star, then we  stand some chance in our marriage?"

Lynx laughed self-consciously. "Winds know, Lukan, I have every motive  in the world for marrying you. If the marriage works, though, is a  different matter. For that, there needs to be chemistry-not just lust.  We probably both need to work on that."

Lukan shook his head, unsure of what to make of her.

Her body drove him crazy with lust, but her . . . Norinness caused him a  different kind of craziness: outrage at her lack of respect to the  Dragon, the throne, and therefore him.

Also, the implied criticism of his desire for her annoyed him. Why  shouldn't he want her? She was a girl. He was a man. Not just any  man-the crown prince. That title came with rights-and benefits. He'd  never had to woo a woman to his bed like this before. They usually lined  up to sleep with him.

"Lynx, is it a crime to look at you and want you? Especially when you  present yourself so differently than every other woman in this room? In  Cian? In the whole of the Chenayan Heartland?"

Lynx's hand grew clammy, and it took her a long time to answer. "I  realize I'm different. Norin usually are. But you're different, too. I  never thought I would have to embrace a Chenayan. I won't deceive you  into believing that I'm not struggling to . . . adapt to the challenge.  No matter how much it is expected of me."

The way her eyes had charted Axel's movements told him she would have no  problem embracing that particular Chenayan. It seemed her repugnance  was limited to him.

Humiliation spiked Lukan's voice. "Do you imagine this is easy for me? That I wanted an arranged marriage?"

"I suppose I haven't looked at things from your angle," Lynx conceded.

"Then you should try."

They continued dancing in silence. Anger, disappointment, and a huge  dollop of despair sat heavy in Lukan's breast. Thus far, he'd failed to  turn the wild cat into a purring kitten.

To add to his woes, Axel and Malika now loomed large in their view. They  had ditched their masks and leaned against the wall together. His arm  was slung about her shoulder, and she was recounting something with much  hand waving.

Lynx's nails dug into Lukan's arm; she'd seen them, too.

Lukan considered mentioning Malika was Axel's sister but rejected the  idea. The longer Lynx believed Axel had a girlfriend, the better.

Still, even through his waistcoat and shirt, her nails were about to  draw blood. "My arm's gone numb. Perhaps we should eat before it drops  off altogether."

Gasping, Lynx pulled her hand away as if scalded. Frustrated, Lukan  dumped his mask on a table in the lobby outside the ballroom. With  obvious relief, Lynx followed suit.

He turned his attention to the waiting buffet, handed Lynx a plate, and  picked up one for himself. She nodded her thanks, and they walked down  row upon row of trestle tables decked with dishes of food from all over  the empire. Lynx dished up a ladle of chickpea and ostrich stew and  grabbed a pudding spoon. He cleared his throat and pointed to the knives  and forks lined up on the table. She blushed, dropped the spoon, and  grabbed a fork instead.

He suppressed a snort-a fork was better than nothing-and asked, "Is that all you're eating?"

Lynx shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

"Suit yourself." He grabbed a handful of crusty bread and added it to his already heaped plate.

Lynx raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward.

"I haven't eaten since dinner last night." Lukan could see she wanted  details on where he had been, but he had no intention of sharing that  information. Let her think that some other woman might have wanted to  bed him. Instead, he said, "I guess that's my own fault, isn't it?"

Lynx graced him with her beautiful smile, making his heart sing despite his anger. It filled him with longing for her.                       
       
           



       

"As you say, Lukan." She looked around. "So where do we sit?"

"Follow me." A deep breath later, he pushed his frustration aside. He  still had a chance to put this right. Smiling, he took her to a door  across from the great hall and pulled a key from his pocket. He opened  it to reveal a table set for two in the center of the room.

"In here." He always used this room when he was charming a girl.

As usual, his valet had set the table elegantly-with all the correct  implements-for this private dinner with Lynx. The centerpiece, however,  was unusual, even by Lukan's standards, but it was as he'd requested.  Instead of flowers, a battered wooden tabor, its stick, and a metal  flute lay on the crisp white tablecloth.

"That's mine," Lynx cried, her voice accusatory. "I've played it since I  was a child. Look, there's the mark on the side of the drum where  Kestrel spilled her chai."

Lukan smiled at her. "And there's your fiddle, too." He pointed to an  instrument case propped up against the wall. "I didn't tell you about  the tabor and pipe because I wanted it to be a surprise. It looks  battered enough to have significance."

Lynx gaped.

Even though he'd done it to impress her, her reaction jarred. If only we  could get to know each other before the wedding. Maybe she'd want me  the way I want her.

He pulled out her chair. "Let's eat, and then you can play."

Lynx took a couple of mouthfuls of her stew and then fiddled with the leather hand strap dangling from her drum.

"The stew is not to your liking?"

"Nothing beats my mother's cooking."

With no experience of a mother's food to draw on, Lukan said, "You could play for me."

Lynx shot him a smile and pulled her chair away from the table. He'd  never seen anyone play a tabor and flute before, so he watched with  interest as she slid her hand into a loop in the drum strap, leaving the  drum suspended before her. In the same hand, she held the long, slender  flute, the note holes positioned at the end of the instrument, where  her fingers reached.

With the drumstick clasped in the other hand, she said, "Are you sure  you're ready for this, Lukan? Because, I promise, Norin music is  designed to wake the dead-not put them to sleep, like the dirge we were  dancing to tonight."

Chin tilted, he said, "You should know by now, the dead in Chenaya never sleep."

"Good. Then they won't mind this." With a rat-a-tat-tat, her drumstick rolled across the vellum, and her pipe burst to life.

Riotous: that was the only way to describe Lynx's music. Food forgotten,  toe tapping along, Lukan leaned back in his chair to admire. It seemed  she had a vast repertoire, with one rousing, call-to-action piece  flowing into the next. The longer she played, the more absorbed she  became, until she seemed oblivious of him-and the crowd, drawn by the  foreign sound, who'd gathered at the door to watch and listen.

It included Axel.

Lukan's skin prickled. Then, he saw Axel's expression, and a whoosh of  ice surged through his veins. He had never seen Axel look at a woman the  way he was staring at Lynx. Gone was the sardonic, I-don't-give-a-damn  expression that usually marred his cousin's face. A small, almost gentle  smile played around his mouth, and his eyes were-Lukan sucked in a  horrified breath-soft. There was no other word to describe them.

Unbelievably, Axel had had the temerity to fall in love with Lynx.

My betrothed!

An Axel-in-love would never accept that Lynx belonged to Lukan. With his  massive sense of entitlement, Axel would stalk her until she relented.  Given what he'd seen of Lynx's feelings for his cousin, it wouldn't be  long before he was cuckolded. Trouble was, Axel was too important to his  future to be eliminated, a challenge Lukan would face for his entire  life. Rage, so potent it was palpable, exploded through him.

Thurban chose that moment to taunt. "I warned you, but you chose not to listen."

Lukan's entire body trembled as he fought with all his inner strength to maintain his cool façade.

"Admit it, Lukan, you aren't man enough to handle her," Thurban's voice drove through him like nails hammering into his brain.

He had to leave. Now. Before he did something he regretted, something  that undid all his years of work on his regal persona. The whole palace  knew about his father's abuse-they'd have to have been blind not to see  the cuts and bruises Lukan, Tao, and Axel sported as children, and even  into their teens. Lukan had always countered the whispered comments with  his perfect control. He could not fail himself now.                       
       
           



       

Feigning calm, he stood, rocking the table. Lynx's crystal glass,  balanced precariously on the edge, tumbled to the floor. It shattered on  the marble tiles, shooting shards of glass across the room. Lynx looked  up, first at the crowd at the door. It included Axel. A flush of  scarlet swept across her skin, and her eyes dropped to her drum.