Ache
"My lord," Cara's voice interrupted Darken's thoughts. He turned to her, one eyebrow raised in question.
"I suggest that we take another route. The bandits in this area used to belong to the resistance." Her jaw tightened. "They will not hesitate to kill either of us, and I cannot protect you against all of them myself."
Unbidden, a memory of how Darken had looked, broken and bleeding on the stone dais of the Pillars of Creation swam to the surface of Cara's mind. He had lain there, next to the body of their son.
A lump formed in Cara's throat and she felt sick. She turned away, ashamed of her weakness.
But she could hide nothing from Darken.
There was the quiet sound of his leather tunic creaking and then gentle, yet firm fingers ran along the edge of her jaw, gripping her chin.
Darken kissed her, sweetly, softly, a tenderness present that very few knew him to be capable of.
"We will take another route," he whispered in her ear. "But first, perhaps something to relieve your tension, my dear Cara…"
She could feel his grin against her hair.
She happily allowed his desire, feeling oddly fragile.
This small piece of happiness, this contented warmth as skin slid against skin… It made Cara afraid.
Because it surely could not last.
Lying naked in Darken's arms, covered only in his cloak, she ran her fingers over the amulet she always wore.
The bones of her son.
A tear threatened to fall, but she blinked it away.
This attack of melancholy was ridiculous. The veil was sealed. Richard, Kahlan, and Zedd were heading for Aydindril and would soon be safely ensconced there. She had her lord back again, the man who had always shown her favor and kindness, in his own way.
And her son, Nicholas, was surely with the Creator.
She had to believe that.
He had been so like his father. So clever.
How much of that was Nicholas, and how much the Keeper?
Was it even Nicholas at all?
"Cara," Darken's voice startled her.
Cara smirked devilishly, seduction in her every motion.
Darken was not fooled, but he allowed her the deception. He could order her to tell him, but he had learned long ago that Cara disliked being forced to share her troubles. He preferred to respect her secrecy. After all, she respected his.
He would interfere only if it continued to adversely affect her.
"My lord," she purred.
He closed his eyes, turning his face into her neck. He was surprised to feel a stab of annoyance at the title she bestowed on him.
No one had called him anything but lord since his ascension to the throne of D'Hara.
Until Hali.
He had put so much work into winning Cara back, to hearing "Lord Rahl" fall from her lips one more time.
Now he found that he did not want to be Cara's lord.
He ignored the small uneasiness.
They were even now on their way to reclaim D'Hara.
He was a lord.
He was her lord.
Somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, there was an ache.
