Page 87 of Warrior's Reign
“Accept comm, audio only.” She dressed, then began smoothing her hair back.
“AdejahnaObe’shan.”
Reign stilled. “EyahunAdevega. You honor me with your communication. How may I serve?”
“You may be aware my niece has condescended to join me at the lunch hour. I would be delighted to know you better as well.”
“I will be on duty at that time as theBdakhun’sguard.”
“Excellent, then the matter is settled. You will lunch with us as a guest—I’ll inform her she need not have another guard present. One with your caliber of skills is sufficient, even if relaxed.”
“I serve.”
“Your eagerness does you credit.”
Once again Adevega cut the comm. The female really didn’t know how to say goodbye. “Request communication, Ibukay, audio visual.”
Ibukay’s face appeared in the wall screen. “Reign?”
“Your aunt just invited me for lunch. Should I fear for my life?” She was only half joking.
TheBdakhunfrowned. “I don’t have any reason, at this time, to believe so.”
“That’s not the most reassuring of answers.”
“I have no idea why she invited you, Reign. She plays games. Her games play games. The games of her games spawn games and play more games.”
Reign exhaled. “I’m on my way.” But first she had to change clothes.
She detoured on her way to Ibukay’s suite, stopping at Vykhan’s office. She requested entrance, tapping her foot as she waited.
The door slid open and she stepped inside. He wasn’t alone. Banujani perched on one edge of his desk, her arms folded. She eyed Reign. “Obe’shan.”
Reign strode to his desk and halted, at attention, nodding to acknowledge his Third. He regarded her, gaze traveling up and down her person.
Discipline kept her from fidgeting. That, and pride. The fission of desire scampered up her spine at his eyes on her body.
The shimmering sea green and gold edged robes plunged to a deep vee in the front and back, with slits all the way up the thigh to reveal tailored silken pants. The robe was lashed tightly at the waist with a kind of corset style contraption, and the sleeves billowed out in folds of fabric.
And around her waist was her betrothal dagger.
“That cloth is Rhyksai weave,” he said quietly.
She nodded. After the betrothal dinner, a chest of fabrics had appeared in her suite with a note from his mother. Evidently a bridal trousseau was another old tradition. Accompanying the fabrics had been the name of a tailor who knew what patterns to use to make. . .dresses.
“Second Aanyah sent the fabrics.” She cleared her throat, giving Banujani a sidelong look. The female stared at her, lips twitching. “She said something about student grays not being adequate for. . .functions.” Her stomach churned. Banujani coughed. “So I had this design made.”
“You may wish to requisition another as well,” he said. “It will not be long before the ImperialBdahnand Consort call you into their presence to welcome you as Youngest Daughter’s newest—and only human—guard. And as my parents’ newest daughter.”
Well, she supposed the Yna Ipaluk etiquette lessons wouldn’t go to waste. “Is that really necessary?”
He lifted a dark brow, eyes glinting.
“Fine. I’ll requisition another damn dress.”
Banujani’s lips broadened in a slightly malicious smile. “You do look lovely, Reign.”
Reign glared. But then Vykhan gestured. “But why are you dressed for an Imperial audience now, Reign?”
