Page 16 of The Rebel's Prize

"Your wife? She wears no ring." Sa Ghislani folded her arms across her chest, eyes stern.

Lucien's eyes dropped to Chloe's hands, and his expression turned grimmer. Chloe resisted the urge to pull the chain bearing her wedding ring from beneath her dress to show him she still had it.

"No refunds," the innkeeper added quickly.

"None required," Lucien said, apparently collecting himself enough to manage to keep his voice polite.

Sa Ghislani looked momentarily relieved, but then she turned her attention back to Chloe, concern drawing her brows down. "Is this man truly your husband? I can call for Ferain."

Ferain guarded the inn's doors at night and dealt with anyone who grew too unruly in the taprooms. He was taller than Lucien, bald as an egg, and had a scowl that seemed to work wonders on anyone thinking of causing trouble. Just for a second, Chloe was tempted to see what would happen if she claimed Lucien was forcing her and Ferain waded into the situation, but in Lucien's current mood, she doubted he would find it amusing, and Sa Ghislani didn't need the trouble.

"No need, Sa," she said. "He is my husband. You can ask Sejerin Silya to confirm it. She is a—" She hesitated, trying to remember the Miseneian term for domina. "—hidadra. I will just go upstairs and get my things."

"Very good." The innkeeper turned to Silya, bobbing her head respectfully. "Lady, I can have refreshments set out for you in the parlor."

"Thank you, but do not trouble yourself. We will not be long," Silya said.

And she, like Chloe, probably knew Lucien was unlikely to agree to moving away from where he was standing. He'd positioned himself neatly in the center of the room, where he had a good view of the stairs, the front door, and the second door that led to the dining room and the taproom beyond, not to mention the working areas of the inn like the kitchen. In other words, all the places where Chloe might try to sneak out. She'd have to climb out the window and scale down the roof at the back of the inn to avoid him. Even if she could manage that, she doubted she'd get far. Particularly if Octarus was talking to Martius and Ikarus.

"Very good. But please ask if there is anything we can do for you, Hidadra." Sa Ghislani pointed to the quartered circle hanging on the wall above a tray where salt grass and incense smoldered slowly. "We respect the goddess here."

Chloe headed for the stairs. When she stepped inside her room, Octarus was waiting for her, standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded. She still hadn't learned the nuances of his body language, but he seemed tense.

"Mate," he said.

"Yes," Chloe agreed. "It seems so. You didn't tell me you had spoken to Ikarus. Or was it Martius?"

He shrugged as though to say it didn't matter. "Did not ask about other sanctii. And mate safe."

"Mate annoying," she muttered as she tugged her bag from under the bed. She straightened and faced the sanctii again. "You should have told me he was coming."

"Safe," Octarus repeated, expression implacable. Then he added, "Solve."

Chloe blinked.Solve?Was that why he'd helped Lucien find her?

Had he decided that there was a better chance of catching the people who'd killed Rianne, his former mage, if she was with Lucien? She could see how that could maybe take precedence over the bond they shared, given that she hadn't directly ordered him not to tell other sanctii where they were.

Which was her fault. She had grown up with a sanctii. She knew the ways in which they could work to achieve their own motives when they wanted. Technically, yes, a mage could treat a sanctii like a slave and force it to do only what they willed via the bond. Certainly that was what Anglions thought Illvyan mages did—deploy the sanctii as mindless controlled weapons.

And certainly not all Illvyan mages had treated their sanctii well. But an adversarial relationship was hardly the most pleasant way to spend your life with another being. Particularly one as powerful as a sanctii. There had been instances of water mages mysteriously vanishing over Illvya's history. A reminder that the bond was an agreement. Sanctii would have stopped agreeing centuries ago if they didn't like how they were treated.

Her father treated his connection with Martius as a partnership. Which meant that yes, from time to time, the sanctii might do unexpected things, just as Octarus had.

And it wasn't as though she and Octarus had formed their bond in the usual fashion. She'd offered him a bargain in the heat of the moment, desperate to think of something that might stop his grief-fueled rampage. A chance to catch Rianne's killers in exchange for his bond.

Apparently, he, like Lucien, had decided that she had a better chance of doing so with more people helping her.

"Mate. Safe," Octarus said again. "Apart sad."

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head.

The sanctii mirrored her action. "No, were sad. Now, mate."

If only it was that simple. But she could hardly explain what lay between her and Lucien to Octarus when she didn't know herself.

"Lucien and I...it's complicated. I don't think we'll stay married. Mated, that is." She heard the wistful note in her own voice and straightened. Time enough to worry about her marriage and Lucien later when Deandra and the others were safely dealt with.

"Mate," Octarus repeated firmly and then vanished.

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