Rhapsody shuddered. “Yes, let’s hope. Well, now what?” Ashe leaned over and kissed her, drawing an amused look from a pair of passing beggar women. “Let’s go shopping.”
“Shopping? You’re joking.”
“No. Yarim has some wonderful bazaars and a spice merchant you will definitely want to see, given your proclivity for that sort of thing. I want to pick up something to wear to our farewell supper, and perhaps some interesting things to cook for it. Besides, I’ve never heard of you passing up the opportunity to shop.”
Rhapsody laughed. “Well, that’s true,” she admitted. “I was hoping to find some things for my grandchildren, and perhaps a birthday gift for Grunthor. What do you think he might like?”
Ashe stood and offered her his hand, pulling her to a stand. “I think he’d like to see you in a low-cut, backless red dress.” Rhapsody gave him a strange look. “Oh, right, sorry; that’s me. Grunthor, hmmm. Does he count coup?”
Rhapsody shuddered. She had always found the practice of saving body parts of fallen enemies disgusting. “Sometimes.”
“Well, how about a nice receptacle to keep his trophies in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on, be creative. What sort of cabinet shape would he need? I mean, does he save heads? Get him an armoire with hat stands.”
Rhapsody considered. “That’s not what he saves; too much work to slice off. I think a cigar box would be more the right shape.” She watched as a look of amused disgust came to rest on his face. “Well, it was your idea.”
“That it was.” Ashe began walking toward the noisy part of town, the direction in which most of the people passing in the streets were headed. “Rhapsody, I have to ask a favor of you.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t say that yet,” he said seriously. “You are going to hate hearing this as much as I am going to hate asking, I’ll wager.”
She sighed. “Undoubtedly. What is it?”
He stopped and faced her. “This may not make any sense to you. Manwyn said something back there that you shouldn’t have heard, not because I would want to keep it from you, but because your knowledge of it poses a threat to your own safety, as well as the safety of others.” He took her hands. “Will you trust me to take the memory of it from you, just for a little while? Until it’s safe.”
“You are blithering at me,” she said, annoyed. “Is this more Cymrian mumbo-jumbo?”
“In a way, I’m afraid it is. But it is more for the danger it puts you in than any other reason that I ask this of you, because I don’t want you to be hurt. Do you believe me?”
She sighed. “I suppose.”
Ashe laughed sharply. “That’s a ringing endorsement.”
“Well, what do you expect, Ashe?” Rhapsody said, her irritation growing. “First I have to face a bizarre prophetess who talks in riddles, then I have to hear you do the same? What is it you want? What do you mean, will I let you take the memory?”
“You’re right,” he said, his voice softening. “I know this has been unbearable for you, Rhapsody. Your memories are a form of treasure. As such, I can collect them, but I would only do it with your permission. They can be stored in a pure vessel, much like you stored my soul, until such a time as it is safe for you to have them.”
“Like you offered to do with my nightmare? Store it in a pearl?”
“Yes. Exactly like that. You will name the vessel, telling it to hold the memory for you, and it will leave your conscious thought and reside in the vessel until you take it back.”
Rhapsody rubbed her temples. “How will I know to take it back, if I don’t remember it in the first place?”
“I will remind you. And I will leave you a sign in case something happens to me. What I propose is this: on the night of our parting, I will explain everything to you that you don’t currently understand. I will hold nothing back. We’ll sit in the gazebo—we can talk freely in Elysian, and I will make sure there is a vessel there to hold the memory of that night and the one you have of this conversation with Manwyn.”
“I can’t do that,” she said. “I’m sorry. I need the information she gave me.”
“I’m referring to what she said after she gave you that information,” Ashe said. “You can keep the rest. Please, Rhapsody, understand that I would not ask this of you if I didn’t have to. Hear what I have to say when we get back. Then, if you choose to withdraw your permission, I will yield to your decision. But please consider it.”
“All right,” she agreed reluctantly. “Now, let’s go shopping.” She breathed deeply as the part of his face she could see relaxed into a smile. She was not sure which was worse—the prospect of him leaving after they got back, or having to live through any more of the deception that seemed to be inherent to the Cymrian people. Either way, it didn’t matter. Both situations would be over soon.
51
Rhapsody finished shaking the crumbs from the linens off the table, folding them neatly and setting them on the chair she had occupied. Ashe was still inside the cottage, having cleared the table and carried the dishes in. She put the small vase of winter flowers back in the center, smiling as she caressed the stiff petals, admiring their beauty and their resolve. Long after the more fragile blossoms of summer and early autumn had withered and died, they continued to bloom, even through the first snows, defying the unrelenting grip of the whiteness of the winter, bringing fresh color to a frozen world.
She was lost in thought when Ashe returned and found her there, running one of the bloodred flowers absently along her cheek. He stopped a few yards away and watched her, his eyes reveling in the magnificence of the picture she unconsciously made.
Her golden hair had been swept up in a shining coil and fastened with tiny white dried blossoms that resembled diminutive stars, a few soft tendrils falling next to her face and at the nape of her neck. She wore a graceful gown of ivory Canderian watered silk with a high collar and a full skirt, edged with a thin band of delicate lace that brushed her wrists and her neck, and though little of her rosy skin showed save on her hands and face, the splendor of her body was made apparent by the artistry of the dress.
Ashe felt his breath return after a moment; he hadn’t missed it. He thought back over their time together and realized that this was the first time he had ever seen her deliberately set about highlighting her features, adorning herself in a way that accentuated her natural beauty. The result was astonishing. As the dragon calculated the untapped power to manipulate and beguile entire populations that was lying dormant within her, the man was treasuring the understanding that she had dressed up for him, wanting his memory of her on their last night alone together in this place to be a pretty one.
After a moment her mind returned from its wanderings and she turned to him and gave him a knee-weakening smile. With an unconscious grace she lifted her sweeping skirts and stepped over the stones, coming to him eagerly with her hands outstretched. He took them both in his own and kissed them gently, then drew her into his arms, enjoying the freshness of her fragrance and the warmth of her body within the silky-stiff material of the dress. She was a treasure trove of sensations the dragon could luxuriate in, and it was no easy task to break free of the desire to do so.
“Thank you for a wonderful supper,” she said, pulling back from his embrace and smiling up at him. “If I had known you could do such a marvelous job cooking by yourself, I would have let you do it more often.”
He laughed and ran the back of his index finger down her cheek. “No equal collaboration is more fun,” he said, taking her small hand and pulling it into the curve of his arm, walking her along the garden path. “That applies to all of my favorite things to do with you. A wonderful performance in either area is not much good without a partner to appreciate it.” He watched the porcelain skin grow rosier, amazed still that someone who could be so earthy; unrattled by jokes and behavior of the most repulsive nature would still blush so easily alone with him. He cherished the thought.