Maybe Forever

2006-10-30T14:54:00.000-08:00

“It's a year-long offer, Carisza.” Dorico didn't want to have an entire year of his life taken up by some silly child and her whims.

“So?” She didn't bother to hide her annoyance. “You can't continue paying your tribute to Kalayn Misreal in contracts alone.”

“I'd rather kill people than fuck people.”

She changed tack. “But this offer is for Nalanayn, who will Inherit. It'd be a great start to your relationship, Dorico.”

“It would also ruin the retainment with Doe Jia if Nalanayn decides she's fallen in love with me.” Now, if she was Merchant, it wouldn't be an issue. In fact, it would be the preferred outcome. “She is still a child.”

“She is not. She is a Trader already, Dorico. This is a birthday present, to celebrate her coming-of-age. When she arrives, she'll be Xui-xia, no longer a child.”

“No.”

“Dorico, people are talking.” It wasn't a consideration. “You've not taken an offer in over a decade!”

“People will talk if a Reial accepts a year-long offer.” Reials are politicians and administrators first, not Dloveraiin. “It is simply not done, whether I am of Dlovo Variaye or not.”

“There is reason for the offer to be so long, and Doe Jia has said that they will not accept anybody less than a Reial.”

“I know that the girl doesn't like males sexually.” That was why it was a year and not the customary one month present. “And that they want her to be accustomed to males when she reaches Nui-dai-wein and marries.”

“So you should accept it, Dorico. Nobody will be surprised if you take the offer and have one of our own take care of her for you.”

“Fine. Deal with it. I have other things to do.”

He bent his head over the stack of papers in front of him, dismissing her. But she had won the battle, not him.

***

Dorico leapt to his feet, splashing water everywhere.

“It is only me.” The voice was mocking, and matched the sneer on its owner's face. Not really a man at all, though. The Kalayn could appear a member of either sex, or both, if He so wished.

Dorico bowed. “My Kalayn.” He didn't attempt to blank his mind, like he used to.

“Don't dump the little Keimorr on someone else.” Kalayn Misreal didn't wish to converse too long with his ex-lover.

The sentiment was shared by Dorico. “Doe Nalanayn?”

“Yes. I wish the little Keimorr as my child.”

“Any one of my brothers could accept the offer, my Kalayn.” The Kalayn could have ordered whoever did accept the offer to convert Nalanayn Doe. It's wasn't as though they wouldn't do as He wished.

“I said that I want you to do it.” He bit out the words. “Don't leave her in the hands of your Dlovo. You will take care of her personally.”

“As my Kalayn wishes.” Dorico had an admirable track record as His priest, given that he had brought three Varenna into Dlovo Variaye before he became Reial.

He bowed, and when he straightened, the Kalayn was gone.

***

Dorico had only found out that Nalanayn's flight had been delayed by half an hour after arriving at the TRANSbase.

The waiting was making him nervous. Curse the Transients all to Shakona's waiting arms.

He forced himself to sit still and not fidget. It was a private, luxuriously appointed lounge he was waiting in, but someone could walk in by accident.

The bell rang. Nalanayn's flight had touched down. He stood, and walked to the gate, arranging his face into a smile.

“Welcome to Misreal, Doe Xiaojie,” he said in Euraian. The language of the Eastern nobility was her native tongue.

Her face, thin and angular, was composed, but her eyes were fixed on his own. The deep-set, indigo eyes that was all anybody saw, even Kalayn Misreal who had gifted them to him.

He took the opportunity the study her. A boyish figure, naturally, given her age, swathed in black from head to toe. The long, straight black hair he had seen in her pictures would feel nice on his skin, he thought.

“Thank you, Reial Variaye.” She answered him in precisely accented Misorian, his native tongue, clearly one she had learned in school, and offered him her hand.

He had to bow deeply to kiss it; she was that petite. “I am Dorico, Doe Xiaojie, not Reial.” He didn't release her hand.

“Then you should call me Nayn, Dorico.” She rolled the middle syllable a little more than was usual, but he found that he liked the way she pronounced his name.

“Nayn.” He knew from her dossier that it was the form of her name she preferred, though he felt it didn't fit as well as it could have. “Would you like a trip through the heart of the Pleasure City? Or would you prefer to head to the Dlovo Variaye directly?”

“The Dlovo. The flight was wearying.” It would have been. Utopians found it uncomfortable, at best, to travel through the Transience.

“And your luggage?”

“I am a Keimorr.” A small trunk appeared in front of them, floating in mid-air, before popping out of sight. Then it disappeared to wherever it was Keimorrs stored their things.

“That's all?” Even on assassinations, he carried more.

She grinned. “My parents are paying for a new wardrobe.” Now she looked more like the Xui-xia she was, and less like an adult, which she wasn't quite yet.

“They are generous.” A whole new wardrobe, even from the lower-end boutiques of Aluraskaya would cost many shiny, new pennies. Nalanayn didn't look like the sort who'd settle for low-end.

“You should think so. How much is he paying you?” She tucked her hand casually into his.

He didn't deign to answer the question. Besides, she ought to be able to find out on her own. It was her skill at spying that allowed her to graduate to Trader so young.

***

Dorico had spent most of the past three days in this room, sleeping mostly. He had cleaned it himself, missing the meditative mood it brought him, when he could have delegated it.

It is part of Dlovo Variaye's much-vaunted technique for imprinting their amorin. If not for him, Variaye would likely still be Kalayn Misreal's most favored Dlovo, courtesy of said technique.

“This will be your room.” He drew open the curtains. “Satisfactory?”

The glass doors opened into the garden. He had plans for her, himself and the pool outside.

She looked around, making a show of not being impressed. It was possible, though unlikely, that the furnishings of her own apartment back home were more expensive. “It'll do.” The yawn ruined her spoilt, rich bitch act.

“Is there anything else you'd like, Nayn?”

She yawned again. “I'm sorry. I'm just tired. But no, nothing else.” She sprawled, facedown on the bed.

“Would you like me to undress you?” He didn't think she'd say yes.

“No.” And he was right. “Wake me up in time for dinner.”

“I will.”

***

Carisza was waiting for him in his study.

“I travel for a few days, and I come back to find out that you let her move into your dacha?” Carisza looked like hell. She always did after a successful contract. “You told me you weren't taking any offers!”

“She has a long-term offer” Dorico didn't want to move out of his dacha. Besides, he had other reasons for wanting Nalanayn there.

“You didn't have to let her live in your own dacha! You could have used—” Any one of the guest dachas. Yes. He knew.

“Enough. You do not question me, Carisza.” The less she knew about Kalayn Misreal and him, the better for everybody.

She let out a breath slowly. “Did you read that dossier properly, Dorico? She's Doe Jia's top rainmaker because she's a very talented spy.”

“Just as I am Reial because I am a very talented assassin.” He held his hand up.

“But—”

“I'm also Reial because I'm paranoid. She's only a child. She won't get past me.” And if she did, then she did. In the grand scheme of things, it probably wouldn't mean much.

She couldn't find out what Kalayn Misreal planned for her unless He Himself told her. Even Dorico didn't know.

***

Dorico poured out the wine to let it breathe, then waited for her. Waking her up had been easy; he had needed only to open the door.

He was glad that he hadn't planned for an intimate dinner in bed. She would have fallen asleep halfway.

Nalanayn yawned. Then again. And again. “I apologize.”

He brushed the apology away. “I understand. Would you like some coffee?”

“No.” She tasted the wine. “Applewine. Eskkalian.” Her favorite. “About four years old?”

“Yes. Care to guess the estate?”

She smiled, but shook her head. “I specialise in textiles, not wine.”

He knew. “Guess.” What he wanted to know was how well-rounded her education was. It'd matter next month, when she made her first appearance at the Receiving Hall.

She swirled it in her glass once more, smelling it, then tasting again. “Adovian dor Parvirin?”

“Very good.” He turned the bottle around for her to see the label. “Specialise in textiles, you said?”

“You know very well what I specialise in, Dorico. After all, Doe Jia has a retainment with Variaye, and I'm Doe Jia's heir-presumptive.” Implicit in her words was the belief that the latter was the only reason why he had accepted her offer. “I wrote the dossier, you know. Then I had Vikda sell it to your cousin.”

“To Adisza?” He made a mental note to tell her off. What was she thinking to buy a dossier from the target's brother?

“I decided that if you wanted to know what I like for breakfast, for instance, I might as well tell you, since it'd make my stay here more comfortable.”

“And you make money off it too.” He laughed. “There is a reason why you are Doe Jia's heir presumptive, Nayn.”

“Thank you.” She beamed at him.

The server came in, two steaming bowls balanced on his tray. He set one in front of Nayn, before serving Dorico. “Smells wonderful.”

“Have at it.”

***

“Sorry I'm not a more stimulating companion this evening.” The server cleared the plates.

“On the contrary, I like that we didn't fill the time with empty chatter.” Like he had expected her to do.

“You are being kind.”

“Not at all.” It was a relief. He rarely had the opportunity for a quiet evening like tonight.

Her eyes brightened, when the server returned. “Dessert!”

“I've heard about your sweet tooth.” She ignored the comment.

A tartlet, filled with the last of the season's figs, drizzled with a wine reduction. The crust crumbled just a little, but held together. Stray crumbs fell to the table as the fork travelled towards her mouth. “This is good!”

He smiled at her. “Then you can have mine as well.” He picked up his plate and placed it before her.

“I couldn't.” She was tempted. She bit her lip, as though trying to physically stop herself from saying yes. He wondered if she did that in bed.

“I'm not very fond of sweets.” Kalayn Misreal had loved feeding them to him. “But if I don't eat it, my patissiere will threaten to quit because I do not appreciate his artistry.”

“Doe Jia's patissiere adores me.”

“Then you can keep mine happy while you are here.”

“Never fear. I won't let you down.” She saluted him with her fork and went back to her tartlet.

***

Dorico sat by the window, book in hand.

Normally, he'd wait for his amorin naked, but Nayn was a special case. He wore a robe that he had borrowed from a nephew. His own were...unsuitable for entertaining amorins. This one was nearly transparent Shshsh silk, and he wore nothing underneath.

He flipped open the book when he heard the water switch off. He had read it, years back when he was studying at the Akkadium. Nayn's own brother would have read it as well, it being one of the principal general year texts.

Nayn opened the door. “What are you doing here?” Her long hair was bundled up on top of her head in a towel. The towel, with the Variaye monogram, was wrapped around her and fell to below her knees.

He put the book on the window ledge. “Waiting for you. Would you like me to dry your hair for you?”

“I didn't ask you to be here.” She remained where she was.

“You are my amorin, Nayn. Where else would I be?” He smiled at her.

She padded across the room in bare feet. “Dry my hair.” Her shoulders were stiff. She removed the towel herself and put it on the dressing table in front of her.

He heated the air around her head, and began combing it out. “Soft.” Silky. It smelled good too, like cinnamon and cocoa and caramel.

“When it's not tangled and trying convince me to cut it all off, I suppose.”

“Relax.” Done. He reluctantly let her hair slide out of his hands. “I'm not going toss you into the bed and ravish you.”

“I might enjoy it.” She didn't sound like she felt that way though. “It'd be a new experience for me.”

“I don't think so.” She wasn't ready. “Besides, you'd not deny me the chance to play the seducer, would you now?”

“I imagine that you have many chances to play the seducer.”

“Ah, but I've not taken an amorin in twelve years.”

“Why not?”

“Do you want the truth or pretty lies?”

“Truth.”

“Like you, I don't want to be here. I don't like being a Dloveraiin, and you don't like men.” He laughed. “We make a great pair, don't we?”

She turned around. “You are bitter.”

“Aren't you? Everybody wants you to be something different from what you are.”

“It is worse for you, I suppose.” Keimorr Godself slept. Kalayn Misreal watched his children close, and kept his stick near to hand.

He didn't want her compassion. “Perhaps. But it doesn't have to be like this.”

“What are you saying?” She stood, and her chin tilted upwards.

“I am saying that you can be free, of Doe Jia. If you want it badly enough, you can leave. I do not have that option.” None of Kalayn Misreal's children ever leave him alive.

“I'll keep your counsel in mind.” She stepped around him. “Now, if you don't mind, I am going to bed.”

He followed her across the room. She stopped. “I may be young, but I assure you, my parents haven't tucked me into bed in decades.”

“I will sleep with you.”

“I don't want you to.”

“I know you don't want me to.” He put his arm around her and pulled her towards the bed. “But at the very least, you need to be comfortable with males, Nayn.”

“I am. I just don't want one in my bed.” She put up with him as he tucked her in.

He climbed in and pulled her into his arms. “I understand, but would you prefer to have the very talented and experienced me as your first male lover or your likely bumbling husband?”

“You sound so reasonable.”

“I am being perfectly reasonable. Now go to sleep.”

“Good night.” She still wasn't happy about it.

“Sleep well.”

The last thought he had before he, too, fell asleep was that he hadn't realised how much he had missed having someone to hold.

***

“How romantic.” She tethered the horse herself, refusing his help.

“Hmm?” Dorico spread out the blanket, then unpacked the basket. “Breakfast. What would you like?”

“What did you bring?” She sat opposite him.

“Your customary breakfast of fruit, and some sandwiches.” He filled a plate with mango, pineapple and oranges and handed it to her.

“See how useful that dossier you brought from me is?” She stuffed a mango slice into her mouth. “Yum.”

He took a sandwich, nibbling on it while he watched her eat.

“Can I ask you a question?” She opened the basket again.

“I might not answer.”

“Fair enough.” She looked up at him, hands still in the basket. “Why did you become Reial, if you don't like being what you are?”

“I don't have anybody to insist that I pay part of my tribute to Kalayn Misreal in offers.” So he took contracts and killed instead.

She considered. “Can I ask why?”

“Why I hate being what I am? No.” All who knew were long dead. Even his family thought he was someone else.

She pouted, but didn't press. “So I owe you a question. Same rules, but you can ask me until I answer.” She pulled out a stack of sandwiches.

“Do you really want to Inherit?”

“I like being a Trader. I'm good at it.” Phenomenal might be a better word. “But I don't relish the thought of the politics that come along with being Inherited.”

“You are wiser than your age would say.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Aren't you going to eat anything?”

He looked at the sandwich he already had on his plate. “This is enough. You can have the rest.”

“I hate to be a cliche, but I'm hungry all the time.”

“You're a xuixia, little one, it's expected.”

“That soothing tone doesn't soothe me. It makes me want to yank your hair out,” she snapped.

He grinned. “So it does.”

She stuffed a chunk of pineapple into his mouth. “Shut up and eat.”

***

They were shown directly into Sorarvi's studio. “Nayn.” They touched cheek to cheek, with Nayn on tiptoe.

“Sorarvi.” She came back to his side.

“Reial Variaye.”

“Kouri Merorvan.” He intended to make her assume whether he took slight to her acknowledgement of his amorin first, or not, mostly because he hadn't decided yet.

“Welcome to this humble Couturene.” She bowed, deeper than was even strictly necessary. “We thank you for your honored presence.”

“I won't be pleased if details of her collection slip out before she's appeared in it.” The less that was known, the bigger the splash she would make. It was more important now than ever, if she were to fit in Misrealian society after Accepting Kalayn Misreal.

“Of course, Reial. I would not dream of doing otherwise.” Perhaps. But it was better to make it clear he'd enforce it anyway. “You'll let me know what she wears each day?” Then she could release the design the next day.

He nodded. “What do you have in mind?”

“Silk only for her Evening wear, I think.” She was wary of him, rightly so. He carried enough weight in the Eirreial to be a threat to any Couturene, and he had demonstrated his willingness to use it before. “Do you have any colors in mind, Reial?”

Pale skin with just a hint of gold. Jet-black hair. “Blood-red.”

“I don't like red.” She wrinkled her nose. She looked like a little girl, perhaps age twelve, again. He didn't need the reminder that he was too old for her.

“But it'll make your skin glow and your hair seem even darker.” Like gold glass cherries and night.

“The Reial is right, Nayn.”

“It makes me stand out. I like to skulk.” They laughed. “Stop laughing at me. It's just easier to blend in.”

He sobered instantly. “You're here on vacation. If you stand out, it's a good thing. You're here to meet people, you're not here to spy.” Even with the laws protecting amorins, sometimes a Dlovo might think it worth the blood price Kalayn Misreal would exact from them. “It's a different game.” One that she needed instruction in.

“So? I'm not Misrealian. I'm not beautiful like you all are. I won't stand out anyway.” She didn't like that, he realised.

The Kouri shook her head. “You are the amorin of Dorico Lovoni daianan Reial Variaye. You stand out, because you're by his side. We just need to make you stand out more.”

“Your logic is flawed. I fade because I'm by his side. He is Lovoni. There is no higher facerank. He is perfect.” On the outside. His heart...not so much. “Look at him!”

Dorico swept her a bow. “I thank you for your compliment. But you've forgotten one thing.”

“And that would be?”

“People want to look at you. They want to know why a Reial would accept a year-long offer with a little Xui-xia, a Jia's likely heir or not.”

“Fine.” She gave in, throwing her hands in the air. “What about design?”

***

“You know, I could have a servant do that for you.” Dorico sat cross-legged on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned. “Wouldn't you have a servant sort out your new things and store them for you?” Nayna didn't appear to notice.

Nayna?

He wanted to bang his head against the wall, but it might make the problem worse. His brains had to be scrambled to cause him to do such thing. Being fond of her was one thing, but it was much too early for him to be giving her a name of affection.

He didn't think his expression had changed at all, but he was thankful that she was facing the wardrobe and not him all the same.

Then she had ordered that her clothes be sent up. “I know. But I like doing it myself.”

“Why?”

“I'm a quarter-Sironnan. That's why I specialise in textiles.” He hadn't thought about that. Any child of Sironna the Weaver would gravitate to textiles.

“And both Keimorr Godself and Sironna Godself share you willingly?” He couldn't understand it.

“Why not?” She turned to him, puzzled. “I owe my allegiance to Kalayn Keimorr first, of course, but He's probably content since I put my birthright from Kalayn Sironna to good use. Kalayn Sironna's happy that I help spread Her gifts through the land, and that I occasionally take to the loom myself. Everybody's happy.”

Kalayn Misreal wouldn't have been, had he been one of them. Kalayn Misreal was selfish. He'd rather see a mixed babe die than share.

He changed the subject. “I won't be at the Receiving Hall tonight, but I do need to be there before the Evening begins to see that all is ready. Would you like to come?”

***

“It's huge.” Her words echoed through the empty room. She laughed. “Vikda and I used to go play in the ballroom back home, because it would be empty when not in use and anything sound we made would echo through the room.”

“We change the décor every day.”

“A lot of work.”

“We do what we have to do, Nayna.” He winced. He hadn't meant for that to slip out.

“Nay-Na.” She caught his hand, tugging until he looked at her. “What's that?”

“Just my name for you, little one.” Fuck. The Eyes and Ears were already listening. He would have Carisza on his back pretty soon.

“I am short. Not little. And if you call me petite, I'll shoot you.” She liked to hunt, and was a passable archer. “But first, Nay-Na?”

“I am fond of you.” He refused to believe it was anything more than that. “It's just a nickname.”

“That's all?” She frowned at him. “What's wrong with Nayn?”

“Nothing.” A lie. He didn't want to lie to her, but he was and the knowledge bit deep.

“Then why Nay-Na?”

“Because everybody calls you Nayn.”

She looked at the ceiling of the Hall. “There is a reason why I like females. It is because males are incomprehensible.”

There was a noise from the doors to the Hall on the other end. He was grateful for the distraction, and waved the doors open. “Come, I'll take you to a balcony where we can watch without getting in the way.”

***

“I can't believe you do this every single day,” Nayn said. “It's dumb. Why not just change it once a week or something?”

They were seated in the dining room. Everybody was filing in. Four others would join them, Carisza, Delayn, Cosca and Yingdi.

“One of my predecessors is at fault, I'm afraid. She decided it would be a good idea, everybody else copied us, and now we are stuck.”

“Because if you stop, and everybody else continues with it, you lose out.”

“Yes.”

“Doe Xiaojie.” The words rolled off Yingdi's tongue. “Reial.”

“You sound like a native of Keimorr,” Nayn blinked in surprise. Then she took a closer look at Yingdi. “You are—” They had the same eyes.

“I am Jiand's aunt,” she said, taking a seat. “They struck me off the register when I Accepted Misreal. Call me Yingdi.”

“Hello.” Hierarchy mattered a great deal to the Keimorrs, especially when it came to addressing elders. Jiand's aunt would be Nayn's grand-aunt. “Yingdi.”

“Don't worry about it.” His Dlovo was where she belonged now. “It was actually the best outcome. Otherwise I would have fought your grandfather to be Inherited.”

“You're happy here?”

“Oh yes. You weren't told about me?” Nayn shook her head. “I'm surprised. I might no longer be on the register, but my relationship with Doe Jia is still amicable. Your father sends me a gift every New Year's Eve.”

Yingdi glared at Dorico. “And you didn't tell her?”

“Why?” He looked perfectly innocent. To be honest, he hadn't even thought about it.

“Whenever he does that, Nayn, smack him. I can't because he outranks me, but he'll have to submit if you do it.”

“Can I try that now, whilst you're around to protect me?”

“Please don't lead her astray.” Carisza stalked toward them. She knew already. Probably the first time he had regretted delegating the management of the Eyes and the Ears to her. Now they reported to her, and through her to him, or she wouldn't have found out.

“It is my responsibility, as the prodigal daughter of Doe Jia. Feel free to come and visit with me, you hear?”

“Thank you.”

“Doe Xiaojie.” Carisza inclined her head. “Dorico, why don't we leave aunt and niece to chat? I need to talk to you.”

“Not now.” He gestured at the servers coming out of the kitchen. “The meal is about to be served.”

Today had to be his lucky day. Distractions had arrived at the right time twice already.

***

When Dorico entered her room, she was busily emptying out suitcases. “Where did I put that?”

“Put what?”

“This!” A small, white pillpao.

“Are you unwell?”

“Oh no.” She untied the pouch. “Want one? This batch is particularly potent.”

He felt his stomach pitch. Drugs. “What is it?”

“Cristalle.”

“Put that down!”

She blinked at him. “Yes?”

He lifted a hand, and the pillpao flew towards him, unopened. “Do you know how addictive this is?”

“It's not. That's why it's so popular.”

“It's not?” He set it on fire. “It was designed to be slowly addicting. By the time you find out you're addicted, it's too late.”

“Stop that! It's mine!” She ran across the room, and tried to grab it from him. “And it's not addictive.” He held it out of her reach.

“Is too. That was what the Apotherials designed it to be.” He knew. He had voted against it, but the majority of the Eirreial had voted to provide funds for it. “And I've seen some of their own, the Apateraiin, so addicted, they need someone to inject it into them to wake them up. Otherwise they'd be unconscious.”

He clamped a hand over Nayn's mouth when she opened it to say something. “Think, Nayn. I have no reason to lie to you. Why do you need this anyway?”

She bit him before he let her go. “Because I want to play, and I need to prove to my father that I am worthy of being Inherited!”

“There are other methods to—”

“None as effective as cristalle at keeping me awake.”

“But you don't need it now, do you? You're not in Phedai. You're in the Pleasure City, and you can sleep whenever you want, play whenever you want.” He picked her up, so that she was eye to eye with him. “You don't need it now. Unless you're addicted.”

“I'm not addicted.” But her anger had been replaced with uncertainty. “I don't need it.”

“Prove it.”

“Fine.” She turned her face away from him. “Put me down and leave me alone. I don't want you here tonight.”

***

“Wonderful, Dorico. Simply wonderful.” Kalayn Misreal appeared in front of him, as a female this time.

Dorico didn't bother to stand, or to make any movement that could be mistaken as obeisance to Her. He lay on his bed, a bottle of Vanimb in one hand, and three more on the floor, well within his reach, of course.

“She's a only Xui-xia. You couldn't manage her?” She didn't raise her voice. If not for the words She used, She could have been chatting happily away at a Hall. “I understand if you want her to quit the addiction. But you could have coaxed her into it. You didn't have to yell at her.”

“I know.”

“I could order you to let my other children spend time with her, you know. Cruza is very interested in her.” She twisted the screws. “It seems that they met when she was in Phedai last year.”

The alcohol haze slowly receded from his brain. Cruza Lovoni daianan Reial Dovayon, his principal rival for influence in the Eirreial. She'd use his Nayna. She didn't care about her.

“I am certain I can find a replacement for you, Dorico. I have before.” When she tossed him back into a world that had moved on without him.

“So you have.” He sat up, carefully placing the bottle upright on the floor. “But it's not a matter of whether I want to do it or not. It's simply that I don't have any incentive to get her for you.”

“You expect something in return from me?” For once, he had caught Her unprepared.

“I expect to be punished if I don't succeed. Therefore I expect something from you if I do.”

“You're different.”

“You made me different, Kalayn.” But his desire for Nayna sharpened his edges, pushed him to fight when She kicked him, instead of lying down and letting her.

There was a long moment before She said, “So what do you want?” Apparently, she had decided that maybe a carrot would get her what she wanted more easily than a stick. Besides, he had brought Her three children before, where none of her other Reials had had similar success.

“I want her for myself, and I want a child.”

There was a long pause, the Kalayn measuring him, and he giving nothing away. He would settle for Nayna.

“Give her to me, and maybe, you'll have both.”

***

She was sleeping, and after misting the room with a little sheiwei, it was a deep unconsciousness in which she wouldn't notice his presence.

He couldn't resist. He climbed in, and pulled her into his arms. He wanted to keep her there, with him, always, close enough to touch, to cherish.

To have forever with her.

He just had to convince her.

The End

The Insanity Press

Maybe Forever