Page 49 of Warrior's Reign
“Reign,” he said when she was almost to the door. She stopped and turned. He had followed her halfway. “How are your mother and Benyon?”
She tilted her head. “You know Pa?”
His lips curved, then smoothed. “Yes. The Obe’shans are an honored line.” Was she included in that, being a human adopted daughter? Probably not. “The line graduated twoAdekhan,” he added and Reign barely suppressed an eyeball.
Of course that’sallthat mattered. How manyAdekhansthe line had produced. Two in six generations was respectable. It wasn’t till two years into her cycle at Yna Ipaluk she’d realized how much Benyon’s family history had paved the way for her ambitions. But it worked that way on Earth, too.
“My mother and father would like to invite them for dinner,” Vykhan said after a long moment of silence.
“Why?”
His expression remained impassive. “My parents would like to formally speak with your parents.”
She stared at him, baffled. “Okay, I guess.” Was this an alumni social thing? Or a palace social thing? She’d heard the Rhyksais normally welcomed new guards with a dinner at their home, and had wondered if the human would get an invitation, but forgot about it after a few weeks. But there was a weight to the way he said the words she didn’t quite understand.
His gaze turned intent. “I may tell my mother she may speak with yours?”
“Sure. Why not? My mom. . .likes to eat. It’s a short trip in a flier.”
He nodded. “One moment.”
Reign waited while he disappeared into another room then came back out. This time he approached her and stopped only an arm’s length away. Her body clenched. This close and all she could think about was his hands pining her to the wall, his mouth hot and demanding. The full force and strength of his personality focused entirely on her.
“Reign?”
She blinked. He’d called her name twice. She blushed, then forgot her embarrassment as sheer lust took over. Her hands trembled. The object cradled in his open palms was exquisite. “That’s a twenty-seventh century Jorokai Dynasty starsteel dagger. I know those etchings.”
The perfect balance of beauty and efficiency, a double-edged blade crafted to favor the thrust. She’d spent a semester translating the poem etched into the hilt—from stills, of course. There were a hundred left, and all of them belonging to old lines or collectors. One in a museum. One in the palace.
She lifted her gaze to his, and this time he didn’t suppress the smile that curved his lips. “You accept it?” he asked.
“Accept. . .you’regivingit to me?”
“Of course.”
“There is no of course about this.” Reign gaped at him. He must feel really, really bad about kissing her last night. It had to be a bribe. She was not above accepting a bribe. “Do I need to promise you my first child?”
“A child would be welcome, but you’re young still. There’s time.”
Vickie cracking jokes? Too bad she didn’t have recorded proof. She froze when he stepped forward, but all he did was press a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“And there,” he said softly, pressing the dagger into her hands, then stepped back. “I have regained my honor from my lapse last night. Aanyah will inform you of the arrangements for dinner.”
Reign fled, realizing only after she’d gotten down the hall that she’d called him Vykhan, and he hadn’t corrected her, or looked at all displeased. And feeling like she was missing the context of formal dinner with parents, plus a priceless gift, plus a kiss on the forehead and the sudden softening of his entire aura. . .
“Oh,fuck.I’m going to kill him.”
18
Vykhan watchedthe door close after Reign left, then spoke a command.
“What game are you playing?” Vykhan asked. The ice of his restrained anger warmed, and he deliberately relaxed his fingers before he crushed the delicate teacup in front of him. So many things to test his Silence these days.
The holo male lounged on a dark couch, regarding Vykhan. “I’m afraid you’ll have to give me more information than that, my friend.”
“Your excursion into the palace grows bolder. Your tendrils seek purchase in places forbidden.” After reading through Evvek’s reports, he was nearly certain the male who’d tried to recruit Reign was not Lohail’s. They had not yet apprehended the traitor, preferring to monitor him while he continued to work for whomever it was attempting to subvert palace staff. But that didn’t mean Lohail didn’t have his hooks into the palace. Vykhan was certain he did.
Lohail pursed his lips. “You’re not talking about your Ibukay. Ah! The human girl. Forgive me—is she yours?” He smiled, a slow, exquisite, taunting expression as familiar to Vykhan as his own reflection. “I’m aware you have some history.”
