“Er, wait…” I scrambled off the bed and grabbed his arm, nearly spilling the wine. “What are you saying? We have to do this. I swear, it doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Really.”
“Maybe. You don’t look at me like you do the kitsune, but I’ve felt your desire before. It’s a fleeting thing, though, and it can’t quite win against that part of you that says not to submit to one of the shining ones.”
“Maybe we can ignore that part.”
He laughed and touched my cheek. “I adore you, you know that? I’m so happy I met you.”
I swallowed, anxious and desperate. “Please, Dorian. I want to get Jasmine. We have to do this.”
“We aren’t doing anything like that. Not tonight, I’m afraid.” He walked away and sat back on the bed near the headboard, just as he had earlier. “I will, however, make you a deal. We will postpone our arrangement until you’re ready. In exchange for this grace period, I add the further caveat that we won’t go to Aeson until you’ve made some suitable progress with your magic.”
I thought about our last couple of dismal lessons. “That might take awhile…”
“Then it takes awhile. Really, if you want every edge you can get to defeat him, you’ll be better off knowing something about your power, even if it’s small. Your weapons are strong, but if they’re gone…then they’re gone.”
I wanted to fight him on this, to tell him I couldn’t wait that long. Fuck the magic. Fuck my prudish resistance. We should get the sex over with and just grab Jasmine.
But I knew he was right. On all levels. He didn’t deserve my body without my mind being into it, and I did need every advantage I could get.
“Well, then…can we practice tonight? Seeing as how nothing else is going on?” If I distracted myself, maybe I’d stop hurting for Kiyo.
“No point in bothering with tact, eh? Very well, then, let’s see what we can accomplish.”
I dragged a chair into the middle of the room while Dorian produced some more cords from his never-ending supply.
“Beige and violet,” he said, holding them up. “To match your dress.”
“It’s ‘champagne.’”
He didn’t tie my hands this time, but he did completely bind my torso. Again, he used intricate patterns as he worked, integrating unique braids and weaves. The purple silk crisscrossed around my breasts, and each time his hand brushed some sensitive part, a secret thrill would run through my body. What was the matter with me? If I could have these physical reactions, then why couldn’t I have sex with him?
The binding took forever, just like always. It made me so impatient, but Dorian clearly enjoyed it. He worked with infinite patience, careful of every weave and knot. When he finally finished, he stood back and surveyed me, just as he had the last two times.
“Very nice,” he observed, eyes taking me in.
A strange thought occurred to me as I sat there. I willingly let him do this to me, but really, it was a leap of faith. My arms might be free, but as he stood over me, I realized how helpless I was. How totally in his power I was if he wanted to abuse it.
But he didn’t. He never did. After blindfolding me, I heard him fetch the water pitcher from the other room. Once it was apparently hidden, he returned to the bed. I heard the bed shift under his weight, the sound of more wine pouring out.
“Have at it,” he said.
I focused just like I’d done in our last two lessons. My mind expanded, reaching out into the room, trying to find the water I supposedly had an affinity for. I repeated the same exercises, visualizing moisture and wetness. The way it felt and tasted.
Yet, when I pointed to where I thought the water jug sat, he told me I was wrong.
So I tried again. Three more times, to be precise. Failures each time.
I heard him yawn. “Would you like to call it a night? I dare say this bed is big enough for us to sleep chastely in. Or, if you wish, I have no qualms about sleeping on the sofa in the other room.”
“No,” I said stubbornly. “I want to try again.”
“As you like.”
Again, I went through the motions, hating them yet burning with need. I wanted to do this. I wanted to control the power. I might have failed at sex tonight, but I would not fail at “It’s there,” I said suddenly.
“Where?”
I pointed, and in my outstretched hand, I could almost feel something wet. It was so easy. How had I not noticed this before?
“It’s right beside you. Really close. If you’re still lying on the bed, I’d say…elbow level. Maybe on the table.”
He stayed quiet.
“Well? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Check the rest of the room.”
My hopes crumbled. “I was wrong again.”
“Just check. See if the water is somewhere else.”
I didn’t get his game. Why the vagueness? Had I found it or not?
But I tried again, reaching out into the room. That spot near him pulsed to my senses. The water was there, I knew it. So what was this all about?
Another spot suddenly called out to me. I reached for it without using my hands this time, and that same strong pulsing reached back. And with that sensation came a slight tingle, only a spark, but it whispered of the power I’d felt in the dream-memory.
“Okay. Right by the door. On the floor, I think.”
“Yes.” The response was surprisingly simple and clear. No jokes or games.
“Right? I’m right? Really? You’re not just messing with me so we can go to bed?”
I heard his soft laugher as he walked to the door and then approached me. Taking my hand, he dipped it down into a ceramic pitcher, and I felt cool water slide over my hand. I laughed, ecstatic and empowered. I felt like splashing it on both of us.
“So what’d I find the first time then? By the bed? It must have been something, judging from your reaction.”
“Indeed it was.”
He took the pitcher away, walked toward the bed, and returned to me. I felt his arm move toward me, and then the scent of something strong and fruity touched my nose.
“The wine,” I realized. “I found the wine.”
“Yes. Quite remarkable too, considering I’d almost drank it all.” He set the decanter down and untied my blindfold. “Now, my dear, it’s time to go to sleep.”
He knelt before me and started the tedious process of undoing all those ties and knots. I waved my free hands.
“You want help?”
He shook his head. I could smell the wine on him. “No. Leave me my simple pastimes, please.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Probably.”
He worked steadily on freeing me from the cords, his fingers a little less precise than they’d been earlier. I again felt that strange chill over being so ensnared.
Released at last, I stood up and stretched. “Can I have some of that?”
I wanted to celebrate, and after weeks of good behavior, I realized I could safely drink here. Funny that the safest place for me now would be in a gentry’s keep.
He held up the decanter. There was probably only one glass left. He eyed it askance for a moment and then took off his shirt. Perplexed, I watched him walk over to the door and stick his head out.
“Yes, sire?” I heard a voice say.
“We need more wine!” declared Dorian in a booming voice. “Lady Markham and I have a lot more to do tonight.”
“Right away, your majesty!”
“Hurry, man. You have no idea how demanding she is. I can barely keep her satisfied as it is.”
I heard boots running on the stone floor. Dorian shut the door and turned to me.
“Your wine will be here shortly, and my prowess will no doubt be proclaimed throughout the castle.”
I rolled my eyes at his show. “So did I pass the test?”
“Hmm?”
“You said I had to make progress in magic before we could go get Jasmine.”
“Oh. That. Well, this wasn’t exactly progress.”
“The hell it wasn’t.”
He sat next to me on the bed. “You found the water. Now you have to do something with it. Your enemies won’t be impressed when you inform them there’s a lake just over the next hill.”