Sunny - Mona Lisa Blossoming

"I'm sorry the room is so small," I said inadequately, stuffing my hands in my jeans. "But at least it has a private bath."

"This more than suits my needs," Halcyon assured me, as polite as I was, making me wonder what we were doing, dancing around like this. We weren't usually like this, tiptoeing around each other.

"I am glad you are better. May I see your leg?" he asked, kneeling before me in a fluid movement.

At my clumsy nod, he carefully lifted the denim cloth, baring my right calf. He behaved himself, no invisible caressing hands or such, but I felt his gaze running like an actual weight over my healed skin. Somehow, baring that small inconsequential bit of my leg felt as if I were exposing other more private parts of my body to him.

"Does it still hurt?" Halcyon asked softly.

"No." Gently I stepped back out of his reach, and the denim slid down to cover me once again. "Uh, thanks for bringing Healer Janelle here so quickly."

"I am happy to be of service." He stood gracefully, his dark brown eyes unreadable. "Perhaps now that you are well, I should go."

"You hate the room," I said, distressed.

He gave a tiny hint of a smile. It flickered for a moment like a shy moth then disappeared. "No, but you seem nervous of me." His voice lowered, roughened. "You have no need to fear me, ever."

"Oh." I closed the distance between us and took his hand in mine. "Never think that. I'm not afraid, just a little embarrassed."

I gave a short laugh. "Hardly dressed upstairs and naked the last time you saw me."

I brought his dear hand to my cheek, felt the brief caress of his palm and the lightest touch of his sharp nails against my skin before he turned his hand over and brushed me with the back of it, turning those lethal nails aside.

"I'm glad you came," I said fervently. "I am always, always glad to see you."

"Ah, Mona Lisa." He carefully drew his hand away.

"Stay for a while, if you can."

He searched my eyes, deeply, intently, before saying, "I can."

I smiled. "Good. Then do. Is there anything else I can get you? That you need?"

He studied me for a long moment then shook his head.

"We'll talk more later, after I get Mona Carlisse and her people settled." With that promise, I left.

He was such a lonely man, I thought sadly. And that loneliness was seen most sharply when he was among others, lonesome in a crowd. There was an invisible wall between him and the rest, a wall of fear, a shield of caution. Separated by his differences. I'd met him in a sun-dappled meadow before I knew what he was. I knew him only by the fruit of his actions alone there in the wilderness with him, unprotected. And his actions had been that of a gentleman, kind and concerned, that of a friend. I'd teased him and held his arm before I knew that those deadly nails, when lengthened in his other form, could slice off a man's head with one easy stroke, that the demon dead could take the form of a beast far more fearsome than Dontaine's Half Change.

My elegant demon prince. He'd saved me, brought me back from Hell, and told me that he loved me. And I had asked him to find another to love, for both our sakes. Were I less scrupulous, less stringent in my morals, he and I would be lovers as well. Although perhaps it was less morals and more fear that kept me from reaching out to him. Fear of losing the precious love I had only just found with Gryphon and with Amber. It was hard enough bridging the differences between us without throwing a new friction into the mix. I sighed. I'd gone a lifetime without love and now an abundance of it threatened me.

There was no aphidy, no chemical pull between the demon prince and me. Just a short wealth of trials and experiences that had bonded us. Pure emotions. I fell for the heartbreak of his agony. Suffering drew me. Some inbred instinct in me wanted to ease it gone, caress it away.

In truth, had it been Halcyon that Gryphon was throwing me at, I may not have resisted.

"Another strong warrior yet you add to your fold," Mona Carlisse greeted me upon my return to the elegant parlor. She shook her head disbelievingly. "How fearless you are." And then more quietly so that I had to strain to hear her, "You shame me."

"Whoa." It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. "Do you mean Dontaine?"

"Yes." Mona Carlisse was conspicuously alone in the room. "I hope you do not mind. I sent the others away."

"Why?"

"I wished to speak with you alone."

I lowered myself onto the oversized armchair across from her. "How can I help you?" I asked softly.

Tears glistened for a moment in Mona Carlisse's pretty eyes before she veiled them with her long lashes. "Is it so obvious then, that I need help?"

I chose my words carefully. "Forgive me. Your hands betray your distress."

She looked down at her clenched fists, opening them. Her nails had dug half crescents into her palms. She gave a brittle laugh, and self-consciously relaxed her fingers.

"Are you well?" I asked gently. She was a beautiful woman, this Queen that I had somehow befriended. The only decent one I'd met so far.

There were other things that I had noticed about her but did not mention. Other things that had also hinted of trouble. Her hair, for one thing. Its length was coiled back in an elegant knot, revealing the purity of her large brown eyes and delicate oval face. It was an attractive arrangement, but Monère Queens usually wore their hair long and loose, flaunting their beauty, their availability, their power. Mona Carlisse had worn her hair bound back like this when I had first met her, held captive by a band of rogues led by Amber's outlaw father. Sandoor had faked both his and his Queen's death, so that no one had known Mona Carlisse was still alive. She'd been at their mercy for ten long years and they had showed her none. It was an experience bound to leave ugly scars. It actually spoke greatly of her strength that she had emerged from the ordeal with her sanity intact.

"No, I am not well." Mona Carlisse angrily wiped away a tear that had spilled over. "I had returned to speak with Healer Janelle, but she cannot help me because…"

"Because it is not your body that is injured," I finished quietly for her.

"No," she said sadly. "What ails me, she knows not how to repair."

Were it any other woman, I'd have taken her in my arms and soothed her like a child. But the presence of a Queen was abrasive to another Queen. Prickles of hot awareness was already a low stinging buzz against my skin just sitting this close to her. Distance, a lot of it, was a more natural order of things between two alpha gals. Nature's design to help propagate our species—disperse wide and rule. So on and so forth, and all that other crap.

Mona Carlisse's wounds were not on the surface. They were deeper, darker… her heart injured, her trust betrayed. Serious injuries. And yet, her spirit had not been broken. Frankly, she needed to see a shrink. But somehow, I doubted the Monère had anything like that available. For one thing, they hadn't evolved enough for something that… unnecessary; that's how they would see it. A doctor for the mind was a luxurious matter, really, not something the brutal Monère society would have advanced to yet. It was a harsh culture. If you were that weak and fragile, you died, simple as that.

"Do you have any psychiatrists in your… I mean, our society?" I asked.

"What is that you speak of?"

Mentally, I groaned. Times like this, I hated being right. "Do you have any counselors, priestesses or wise women you can speak with?"

"No one," she said, looking at me intently. "No one but you."

Great. I pitied her. Fixing things was not one of my talents. Destroying things or people that threatened me or mine… that came far more naturally to me.