He leaned back and blinked. Jaira hazed before him like a vapor. His head spun, rolled on his neck like a ball on a needle. He felt so light, so happy. His heart beat wildly as everything came into focus again. His breath caught in his throat.
Princess Jaira.
He'd never seen a more beautiful creature.
Her dark eyes widened, her full lips turned down. "Are you all right, Your Highness?"
He grabbed her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it.
He was in Shamayim. Heaven.
*
Vrell rubbed her eyes. She thought she had seen Achan kiss Jaira's hand. There! He had done it again. She focused on his mind, hoping his guard was down.
Jaira's amplified giggle made Vrell cringe. "Your Highness. Do you really think so?"
"Princess, what must I do to win your heart? Name me any task." Achan's tone was low and husky, burning Vrell's cheeks. "All I have I lay at your feet."
Vrell gasped. She called out using Achan's connection. Achan!
He shook his head as if trying to upset a fly that had landed on his ear.
Achan! She has done something to you.
Achan fortified his mind quicker than Vrell thought possible for his skill, leaving her pushing against a cold wall.
His rapidly developing skills scared her.
Jaira whispered in Achan's ear. He stood and offered his arm. Jaira accepted and they followed the eunuch through the servants' door, beaming like a pair of newlyweds.
Vrell crossed the room and called for help. Sir Gavin? They have done something to Achan.
Sir Gavin's voice yelled in her mind. Is he injured?
It seems not. But he is professing his love to Lady Jaira. Come quickly. They have gone.
Don't lose sight of them, Vrell.
Vrell slipped through the door and followed the eunuch, Achan, and Jaira down a cool, narrow corridor. Since Achan had closed his mind, Vrell could no longer hear them.
Jaira steered Achan up a circling staircase. Vrell followed a half level behind, stopping when they stopped, walking when they walked. Jaira's ongoing giggle fueled her anger. Vrell wanted five minutes alone with Jaira and a sword. She was certain she had learned enough to do the job right.
Seeing Jaira's blue train drag around the door jamb, Vrell waited a moment, then peeked down a wide hallway. Halfway down, the eunuch disappeared through a door, but Achan and Jaira stopped. Achan pressed Jaira's face to his chest like a cherished child. His fingers dug into her braids and pulled some loose. He lifted two handfuls to his nose and inhaled.
"Be my bride," he said. "If you'll wait, I'll build us a cottage in the mountains, hidden deep in the trees by a river or creek, a rocky one that sounds as beautiful as it looks."
"But you are to be king. We must live in the palace at Armonguard."
"I'll live wherever you live, for I cannot imagine ever departing from your presence, even for a moment."
Oh dear. Vrell rolled her eyes. Jaira had cast some spell to muddle Achan's mind so he would pledge to marry her, just as Sir Caleb had feared. Esek would marry Mandzee and Achan would marry Jaira, assuring a Hamartano queen on the throne no matter which man won Armonguard.
Sir Gavin? Are you close?
We're in the game room. Which way? What's happening?
Take the servant's exit and follow the tower stairs up three levels. They are here in the hallway. Sir Gavin, Achan proposed. I think she has befuddled him.
Watch them.
Jaira led Achan through a door. Vrell raced down the hall and burst into an antechamber. Larkos, the eunuch, stood like a shield before a set of double doors, painted in black and gold swirls. Two fat candles on thick stands stood beside the door.
Larkos' bronze muscles bulged under the leather straps that held up his skirt. "I'm sorry." His voice came silky and low. "You must have the wrong room."
"I have come for my prince. Let me pass."
Larkos tilted his chin and the candlelight gleamed off his bald head. "What prince?"
Vrell tried to push past him.
He grabbed her arm. "The temple is occupied at this time. The pontiff does not wish to be disturbed."
"Release me!"
Larkos held Vrell against the wall and stared deep into her eyes. Thick black paint outlined his eyes. His lips moved as if he were chewing. He crunched down and blew hot sweet breath in her face. Flakes of wet powder stung her eyes. Her nose burned. She coughed and blinked. Larkos held her until their eyes met again, then he released her and crouched to grab the beam that would slide across the door to lock it.
Vrell drew her sword. Larkos turned in a crouch, and she bashed the pommel against his head. He fell to his backside and reached out to grab her weapon. She struck him again, and he fell onto his side.
He gasped. "You're a woman! Without the antiserum, that's the only way to stand against the anabas dust."
Vrell swelled with a combination of fear and anger and slammed the pommel of her sword against his temple once more. Larkos slumped to the floor, this time unconscious.
She pushed through the double doors and stepped into the temple of Avenis. It was a vast, square room with a vaulted ceiling, dark but for the hundreds of candles in all shapes and sizes flickering on the floor along a narrow, wooden aisle that ran all the way to the statue at the far end of the room. Avenis, crafted from bronze and draped in a purple velvet robe, stood almost as tall as the ceiling. His handsome face cast a flirtatious smirk in Vrell's direction. A wooden altar ran out from Avenis' right and left, covered in gold cups, coins, wilted flowers, and jewels. Achan stood alone before the altar on the right.
"Achan!" Vrell started down the aisle, her boots tapping on the wooden floor.
Achan's blue eyes met Vrell's. "What are you doing here?"
"I have come to save your hide, Your Highness."
His brows knit. "You've come to steal her from me."
The very idea. "I do not want her, and neither do you. Think, Achan. You hate Jaira."
Achan's pupils doubled in size. "You lie. You want her for yourself."
A door on the far left wall opened, spilling a brief stripe of light over the dark floor. Vrell backed into the shadows.
Jaira entered with the pontiff. "You must agree this is what Avenis wants for Mirrorstone and for all Er'Rets."
"I see the benefits, Princess, yes. But I should like to consult Lord Eli, Seer Rheala, and the queen, of course."
"My mother said she has spoken to you already."
The pontiff sighed, his pudgy face flushed. "Yes…she did, but-"
"Marry us, then. Now."
Jaira and the pontiff reached Achan. Jaira left the pontiff's side and took Achan's hand in hers.
Achan released a ragged breath and fell to one knee. "You've seized my heart, fair lady. I beg you let me serve you. Give me a task. Nothing is too great."
Oh, for pity's sake. Vrell tried to knock and found Achan's mind open. What in all Er'Rets? Achan!
He jumped back to his feet, hand on where his hilt would be if he were wearing his sword. "Leave us in peace. We don't want you here."
Come out of here, Achan. This is a bad place.
"You are jealous!"
Jaira whirled, eyes wide. "What is it, my love? Do you hear someone?"
"Sparrow wants to take you from me." He pushed Jaira behind him. "Go away, Sparrow. I don't want to hurt you."
Vrell stepped into the light. "Achan, be serious. Come away at once."
"Frell, isn't it?" Jaira asked, stepping out from behind Achan. "How did you get in here?"