LITMIR.BIZ

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fans clustered around him, all hoping for a private word or simply a chance to touch his uniform. They pressed him for war stories, tales of heroism and combat with the Furs. What few questions he answered terrified them and only made them insatiable for more. A few even offered their daughters’ hands in marriage, which would have pleased Aza and amused Markam, all while Xim alternately conferred with his cronies and glowered at him. In that moment, Tao would have traded life in the city for one more night under the stars in a Hinterlands encampment.

      Firmly declining further pleas for his attention, he escaped the ballroom’s thick, oppressive murk of perfume, sweat and smoky oil lamps, and went in search of fresh air.

      ELSABETH CLOSED THE DOOR to the nursery behind her, pausing for a moment to search the shadows and gather her thoughts before leaving for the ghetto. The queen had acted both sad and determined, leaving Elsabeth certain her intent was to lure Xim into her bed tonight to distract him, insurance against potential harm to her brother.

      Maybe it wasn’t necessary. Tao wouldn’t be alone tonight. The giggling dancer he’d played with on his lap would be playing in his bed before too long. Many more females would frolic on his lap and between his sheets tonight and in the nights to come. It was rumored Uhr-warriors had sexual appetites as voracious as those of the beasts in the animal kingdom.

      They couldn’t help themselves, supposedly. It was how they were bred and trained. Their lives were destined to be short, men cut down in battle before they had the chance to make a union proper, legal or permanent.

      She pressed her lips together. Why on Uhrth was she even thinking about Tao in that way? Her curiosity about the matter was disturbing.

      The sound of men’s voices approaching stopped her cold. King Xim was striding toward the queen’s chambers, his hands behind his back, the half-blind Colonel Uhr-Beck at his side, a gaggle of cronies following in his trail. It would not have been a sight for a second thought, until she saw the expression on the king’s face.

      Markam’s warning echoed in her mind. “Until all this is settled, Tao must tread carefully. I need you to keep your ears and eyes open for any hints his safety is in jeopardy.”

      She dove into an alcove outside the light of the torches, flat up against the wall, holding her breath, her pulse drumming in her ears.

      The men paused outside Aza’s chambers, so close, but unaware of her presence. “Your Highness,” Beck said, “I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave the ballroom tonight. All the fuss. You’d think the man would show a little humbleness, but he’s lapping it all up like a kitt given a bowl of sweet cream.”

      Elsabeth strained to eavesdrop, as she’d so often done over the years.

      Xim’s expression wavered between uncertainty and annoyance. “He gets all the credit, when I funded everything.”

      “If only your subjects would see that.”

      Tinged with fear, Xim’s frown made his young face look old. Beck’s one eye narrowed, missing none of the king’s unease. “More worrisome are all those soldiers, loyal to him. A dangerous thing, Your Highness.”

      “It’s my army, not his!” Xim blurted this out in an indignant whisper.

      “Yes, My Liege. But, beware. While the army may legitimately be your weapon, as long as Tao’s hand is wrapped around the hilt, it’s aimed at your heart.”

      OUTSIDE, BIG LUME WAS nearly out of sight, Little Lume following obediently in its showier companion’s path, like two egg yolks dropped in soup. The first stars had already appeared. A half hour remained, no more, before all the Kurel would have to return to the ghetto, according to the new Forbiddance. Tao hadn’t had time to hear the new code in its entirety, but confining all capital-dwelling Kurel every night was one of the more dramatic changes.

      He found a vantage point by an open window to look out over the city, including K-Town. The ghetto, as always, took on a strange, soft glow at night that didn’t seem to flicker like typical candlelight, or lanterns. It was one more reason Tassagons were fearful of the place—and the people. Then there were the windmills, clusters of the spindly things, catching the stiff breezes coming off the plains. Also odd. What was life like behind those walls, where Elsabeth would soon return?

      Woefully deprived of his company, poor girl.

      Bah, she wouldn’t know what to do with a man like him.

      But perhaps he could venture across the cultural divide to teach her, spoiling her for all other lovers once she’d had a warrior in her bed. She wouldn’t want to go back to her own pacifistic, intellectual kind once she’d tasted real Tassagon passion.

      Behind him, purposeful steps on the polished stone floor ended in abrupt silence. He turned. Elsabeth was in the midst of catching herself from approaching any closer.

      She backed away so swiftly and with such dismay that he wondered if she’d somehow seen his thoughts. His bravado of only moments ago turned into bashfulness, making him want to offer apology for the carnal direction of his thoughts. Was it a spell?

      She must have come directly from his sister’s quarters. “Aza,” he began to say, walking toward Elsabeth, consciously controlling his stride so that it didn’t appear he was chasing her down before she could escape—although he was. “How is she?”

      “The queen is as well as can be. I left her with the children, and under the care of the night nurse.” Clutching her blue skirt, she hiked it up to reveal her pointy, laced shoes, a clear sign she was about to run.

      “Wait.” She had information he needed. As exasperating as she was, he was determined to get it. He was also damn curious about her. In twenty-eight years alive, these were the most words in a row he’d exchanged with any of her kind. “My sister trusts you, and seems to very much like you. I want to know about her health and her state of mind, both of which you seem to care about more than her husband does.”

      Her lips parted slightly at his apparent criticism of Xim, her wary gaze sweeping the alcove for eavesdroppers before she answered him. “She needs to rest. The pregnancy has been hard on Her Highness.”

      “And King Xim? Has he been hard on her, too?”

      “It’s not my place to say, General.”

      She didn’t want to forfeit her job, he realized, but her expression told him his answer. He wanted to squeeze Xim’s scrawny neck in his hands. He’d come home expecting a quieter existence. It didn’t seem he’d get his wish any time soon.

      The drunken laughter of a large group of men echoed from nearby. The tutor’s jaw was tight. “General, I cannot stay here.”

      “We’ll finish this in private,” he decided. “My quarters. I myself have had enough wine tonight, but I can certainly offer you a glass.” Fascinated, he watched her peach-colored freckles disappear one by one as a deep blush spread over her cheeks. Did Kurel drink? He didn’t know.

      “Or tea,” he offered.

      “General—” she tried.

      “Tao is my given name. Both of us serve the realm, we may address each other as equals.”

      Her gaze flickered, that hooded, supercilious Kurel regard. He was the commander of a vast legion, and she just a Kurel girl; he was Uhr-born and bred, and she a daughter of sorcerers from the ghetto. Yet, it was clear that she considered herself the superior one, not the other way around, and certainly not his equal.

      Hiding his irritation, he gestured for her to come with him. “This way.”

      “No. General—Tao—the curfew begins at nightfall. This means I must leave the premises.” She enunciated each word with perfect diction, as if he were slow to comprehend. He was a general, damn her, the best strategist in generations, yet she treated him like her preschool charges.

      “Do you think I’m so stupid that I don’t recognize you can’t be out after dark—?” He caught himself

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