Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

Rhapsody felt color rising from her neck to her face. “I’m sorry about tricking you,” she said, checking to make sure the Lord was still there. “There really was no other way; it was not my intention to lead you on.” He laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. “I needed to bring you to this place, and I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings.”

His head moved closer to hers, and she could feel his breath on her neck. “Oh, you have. I am very hurt. But you can fix that, you know. You have just the right medicine for me, Rhapsody—that’s your name, isn’t it? Pretty; it suits you. You really are amazing, you know. I’m glad I never had to fight you in the arena. You come off as fragile, helpless, but you’re not, are you? You play on a man’s sympathy, but you are stronger than most, and that’s when you take advantage.”

“Stop it,” Rhapsody said, becoming annoyed.

“What’s the matter—you can swear to speak the truth but are unwilling to hear it? You lied to me, in a way. You came to my bed and made yourself available to me, dressed for seduction. You said you had been sent by Treilus, the whoremaster. What was I supposed to think?”

She looked away. “Probably just what you did.”

Even without looking at him she could feel him smile. “Good; then you agree that I came to the right conclusion.”

Rhapsody’s gaze returned to him. She thought about arguing the facts, reminding him what she had actually said, how she had only indicated she was there to massage him, but the words were too heavy to utter. Llauron had known all along what Constantin would think she was there for, and she had been foolish beyond measure to believe otherwise. She hung her head.

The gladiator bent forward until his lips were just outside her ear. “You owe me,” he said quietly. “Perhaps just once, but you owe me, and you know it. Without speaking, you promised me a night with you in my bed. Surely you will not go back on your word—a Namer? I know you are one, by the way; last night I heard you whisper my name deep in my soul, and the most wonderful feeling came over me. Would you like to guess where it was most outwardly obvious?”

She blinked but said nothing. He had undoubtedly felt her light the candle and pledge to sit vigil for him, to guard him from pain at her own expense.

The gladiator’s smile grew more confident. He reached out an enormous hand and carefully slid his index finger into her hair, drawing it down along the lock nearest her face. When he reached her cheek he caressed it with his rough fingertip.

“Come with me,” he said soothingly. “I am no longer angry; I will be gentle with you. You have nothing to fear; I won’t put it in all the way. Pay your debt, Rhapsody.” He leaned forward on the tree, his breath warming the side of her neck. “I must have you,” he said.

The Lord Rowan appeared, to her left and nearby. Both Rhapsody and Constantin looked and noted his presence, then Constantin dropped his arm and turned to leave. As he did, his lips brushed the top of her hair. “I will have you,” he whispered. “I promise.” As he walked away, Rhapsody felt her voice return. “Constantin?” He looked back at her; there was no fear in her eyes, and her face was placid again.

“You may be right,” she said directly. “But if you do, it will be only because we both want it to happen. Do you understand?”

He stared at her for a moment, then he was gone.

Rhapsody felt a warm hand touch her shoulder, and in that moment, peace such as she had never felt coursed through her, filling her with a longing to sleep.

“Are you all right, child?” the Lord Rowan asked, his voice silky as warm wine.

“Yes, m’lord,” she replied, turning to face him.

“I will speak to him.”

Rhapsody opened her mouth to explain. As she did, she felt the despair of the Future return, the hideous knowledge that she might be doomed to repeat her same mistakes eternally, watching the consequences of her actions for all Time. Exhaustion flooded her as Ashe’s words of long ago came back to her: You will never die. Imagine losing people over and over, your lovers, your spouse, your children . Rhapsody felt more tired than she ever remembered being. She looked into the stern face of the Lord Rowan, and from deep within her tears came, unbidden.

“Why do you weep?”

“It’s not important,” Rhapsody answered, looking into the black eyes. “M’lord Rowan, will you grant me a favor? Please?”

“What is it you wish?”

“Will you come for me one day? Please?”

The solemn face flickered with the hint of a smile. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “Usually I only hear prayers asking me to stay away, though you are not the first Cymrian by any means who has prayed for my assistance. You are the first one in the bloom of youth, however.”

“Please, m’lord,” Rhapsody implored. “Please say you will come for me one day.”

The Lord Rowan watched her for a moment. “I will if I can, my child. That is the only promise I can make you.”

Rhapsody smiled through her tears. “It’s enough,” she said simply. “Thank you.”

Evening shadows were starting to lengthen in the peaceful forest. Rhapsody stopped before the door of the small hut and breathed deeply for a moment, trying to remain calm. Then she knocked.

“Come.”

She shuddered at the memory the word and the deep timbre of Constantin’s voice evoked. Slowly she opened the door of his chambers.

The former gladiator was sitting on the bed. When he saw her he rose immediately and crossed the room to the doorway. Rhapsody swallowed nervously, observing the speed with which he moved; it was small wonder he had been lethal in the arena. He interposed himself between her and the rest of the room, filling the doorway and staring piercingly at her.

“What do you want?” he asked harshly.

Rhapsody smiled, hoping to defuse the suspicious, hostile tone. “I have something that I believe is yours.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so.” Rhapsody could tell by the look on his face that he had had his conversation with the Lord Rowan.

“Well, I won’t bother you for long, then,” she said breezily. “May I come in?”

Constantin stared down at her for a moment, then held the door open, standing out of the way. Rhapsody walked under his arm and came into the room. It was similar to the rooms of the other children, but without any decoration or colorful appointments; in fact, it looked much like her own, only the bed and furniture were much bigger.

She sat down on the room’s only chair. Constantin looked hard at her, and then dropped his eyes, smiling to himself. He watched under his eyelids as she reached into the small bag she was holding. Rhapsody pulled out the silver chain she had found in his chambers, and held it out to him.

“Does this belong to you?”

Constantin’s eyes widened in shock, and a look of panic crossed his face. Then, as quickly as it had come, the look was gone, replaced by the familiar stare.

“Where did you get it?”

“I found it in your room that night.”

His face began to blacken with anger. “And now you have come to ransom it back.”

Rhapsody’s mouth opened in surprise. “No, I thought—

“Of course, I am without anything of value to pay for it here,” he said, his muscles coiling under the tension of self-control. He backed away from her. Rhapsody regarded him with sympathy. She knew what he felt was violent, and she could see him struggling to keep it in check.

“You don’t understand,” she said quickly. “I brought this to give it back to you.”

Constantin regarded her suspiciously. “What is the value in that to you?”