Page 23 of Dark Shaman: Love Found
"Me too." Tamira glanced around once more, then lowered her head to hide her lips. "I wonder what's in those chests the guards retrieved. What was Navuh hiding beneath our feet all these years?"
He tilted his head. "That was a random change of subject. What made you think about the chests when you were talking about the beach?"
She frowned. Elias was right. It had been random. She'd thought of feeling sand under her feet, and for some reason, the memory of those chests had emerged.
"I don't know why I thought of them," she admitted. "Something about sand reminded me of the guards who carried them out. They were all wet and had breathing apparatus hanging around their necks. Or perhaps that was constantly on my mind. It's the mystery, I guess."
Elias glanced around, confirming that they were still alone. "Whatever was in those chests was important enough to build special storage for and important enough to risk soldiers' lives to retrieve it during the flood."
"Gold? Jewels?" She shook her head even as she suggested it. "Those wouldn't require such careful storage. Or such urgent retrieval."
"Documents, perhaps. Blackmail material. Evidence of his various operations."
"Not likely," she said. "He doesn't need to hide that. Everyone knows what the brothel is for. Whatever was in those chests was fragile. Did you see how carefully theycarried them? Like they were afraid of damaging the contents."
"Or afraid of the contents themselves," Elias murmured.
A chill ran down her spine despite the oppressive heat. "What could Navuh possess that his own guards would fear?"
"Perhaps artifacts, devices, or materials from a long time ago. Perhaps whatever was in those chests was radioactive." He stood abruptly, extending a hand to help her up. "We've been out here too long. People will talk."
She accepted his assistance, trying not to cling to his hand longer than necessary. "People always talk. It's the only entertainment they have."
"Still," he said, but she heard what he wasn't saying.
They couldn't afford the attention. Their relationship balanced on a knife's edge, tolerated for now because it served Navuh's purposes, but not to the extent that it could expose the carefully maintained secret of the parentage of most of his sons.
"When will I see you again?" she asked as they reached the door.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Lord Navuh's summonses are quite predictable by now, but that doesn't mean that he will allow me to see you each time he calls for me."
"I hate this," she murmured, keeping her head down. "I hate every moment of separation."
"I know." He reached out as if to touch her face, then let his hand fall. "Be patient. This situation won't last forever."
The door opened, revealing one of the household servants. "Lady Tamira," the woman said with a slight bow. "Lady Areana is looking for you."
"Of course." She turned back to Elias, forcing her expression into polite neutrality. "Thank you for the lesson, Elias."
"I remain at your service, my lady," he replied with equal formality.
She walked away without looking back, though every instinct screamed at her to run into his arms and to hell with the consequences. The servant led her through hallways that were dotted with art pieces, but Tamira barely noticed them, her mind replaying every word, every careful touch she'd shared with Elias.
The chests haunted her thoughts. What secrets lay hidden in them?
She thought of Elias's visions, the betrayal he'd seen coming. Change was in the air, as palpable as the humidity that clung to everything on this accursed island.
The memory of her lost son ached like a fresh wound, reopened by her confession. Hopefully, somewhere on this island, Darien lived and breathed and fought, never knowing the mother who'd loved him with every fiber of her being.
8
AREANA
The private dining room in Navuh's quarters glowed with the soft light of multiple candles that Areana had requested. The servants had found two candelabras packed away in storage from the time the house had been decorated in the style of an Italian villa, and she wondered what other treasure she could find there that could help turn this house into a home.
She'd dismissed the servants early, insisting that she would handle the wine service herself. It had been a small rebellion that Navuh had indulged with an amused smile.
"You're in a romantic mood tonight," he observed, watching her pour the fine vintage she'd selected from his collection. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"
