Mat was bored. He had been in the Tarasin palace for a week now and the Prince of the Ravens still had no official duties. Tuon had things well in hand at court. She had her generals and nobles for advisers and Selucia for other matters. Mat had decided to stay away from any military planning, since he was still considered an enemy General.
He was in a touchy situation. He felt awkward with the folks in the palace that had known him as Tylin's Pet. They had not treated him with respect before and now that he had a high position, he still felt odd, since it was through his wife status. Well, they would just have to deal with it.
Mat's favorite thing to do lately was to go to the stables, where there were many fine horses. He had left Pips in Caemlyn, so he would have a better chance of traveling undetected. The stallion Tuon had given him was there and Mat had taken him out daily for rides about the city, with his constant companions, the Deathwatch Guards. He had decided to name his stallion Dovienya, or 'Luck' in the Old Tongue. Too bad Olver wasn't there to try him on the race track. He was sure the dapple would give Wind a run for his money and easily keep up with Tuon's razor.
Early in the afternoon after his daily ride, Mat was in his and Tuon's apartments, pacing back and forth, thinking. He knew he had to get back to The Band of the Red Hand for the Last Battle. There was also his commitment to Thom Merrilin to rescue Moraine from the Tower of Ghenjei, as much as he hated thinking about that.
But how could he say good-bye to Tuon, now, when things were going so well? She was as exciting as he could imagine, and his nights with her were fantastic. Mat was sure he was in love, and that Tuon returned his feelings. She became almost a different woman when she was with him. Sure, she could still be stern and put on that executioner's mask that he knew so well, but he now knew the other side of her. When she was in the mood, she could be very passionate. Light! Athletic, that was the term he would use to describe his wife when they made love. She was also funny, with a wry sense of humor and smarter than anyone else he knew. Tuon was very clever at making plans and decisions.
If only Tuon did not believe in holding damane and da'covale. And thinking that she had to subjugate the Dragon Reborn to her will as well as conquer Mat's homeland. Just a few small differences to deal with. He could not change an entire people, no matter how strongly ta'veren he was or how much luck he had. So, what to do... he continued his pacing.
A few hours later, Tuon entered the apartments, followed by several da'covale bringing her favorite spiced wine punch and some fruit and cheese. She saw Matrim looking out the window with that worried scowl on his face again. She knew he was concerned for his army and about his friend, the Dragon Reborn. She intended to keep Matrim with her as long as she could, but she knew certain that he would be leaving.
Tuon thought Matrim was probably bored, since he was a man of action and seemed to crave excitement. Or maybe things just happened when he was around. She knew he had gone out with Beslan a few times, but since he had his Deathwatch Guards for an escort and Beslan was now king, she did not think they could get into much trouble. Or have much fun either. Too bad. He was becoming more responsible, though, she thought. Maybe it was fatherhood? Tuon smiled and took him a goblet of the spiced wine.
He smiled gratefully, but then the the scowl came back. "Tuon, I have been thinking. I've got to go back to Caemlyn to check on the Band, to make sure they are ready. I know you want me to stay, but it just isn't possible."
Ignoring his statement, Tuon looked up at him through her long eyelashes. "Matrim... Mat... can you undo my buttons? I have sent my attendants away for the afternoon." She knew he was quite shy around her ladies and the da'covale. It was one of his more interesting qualities. She had been in just her skin around them for as long as she could remember and didn't think anything about it.
Mat set down his wine goblet, and began to work the small pearl buttons on her deep teal dress. She thought it was one of his favorite colors. After he finished the buttons, Mat wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Why had her ladies always done the buttons, when this was so much nicer? She slipped from her dress and let it fall to the floor.
"Tuon, we really need to talk." Mat began.
She turned to him, brushing his long hair from his dark pretty eyes. "We will," she said reaching up to embrace him. "Later." She kissed him gently and then with more passion. She felt him responding warmly to her kisses, like he always did. Matrim was like clay in her hands, so easy to control and so predictable. She would make him forget all about leaving her, at least for a while.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his kisses becoming like fire as he groaned softly. Tuon trembled a little as she felt his hardness pressing against her through her silk shift. Men were... so predictable... so easy... to... control.
Tuon's own thoughts became fuzzy as he picked her up and laid her gently on the large bed. She moaned as she clung to him, willing him never to stop, never to leave her. She had no other thoughts for quite a while.
Later, after the sun had gone down, there was still a glow in the western sky. Mat awoke with Tuon nestled in beside him. He watched her breathing softly for a while, then smiled. He knew what she was up to, but did not really care. Let Tuon think she was in control, for now. He gently dislodged his arm from beneath her, letting her continue to sleep.
Mat put on his gray silk robe and went to the door. The da'covale knew to stay out when he and Tuon were there, unless requested. That had been one of his few rules. They made him uneasy, always kneeling and groveling. Mat requested that their supper be sent up.
One of the da'covale brought in some hot tea, that she had already prepared. He noticed that her robe was not as sheer as he remembered, that she was now decently covered. He smiled to himself. Tuon jealous? That must be it.
After a little while, supper was laid out on the small table. He went to a sleeping Tuon, waking her with a kiss. Her eyes opened, then narrowed. "What?" he said, grinning as he straightened. "Supper is ready. I thought you might be hungry."
Tuon rose and stretched, putting on a robe of pale green, decorated with embroidered leaves. Going to the table, she noticed a beautiful silk rose next to her plate. A half opened bloom, it was finely made of deep red silk, with a carved twig for a stem, and even a few small thorns. Mat had bought it on one of his rides through the city. Tuon picked up the rose, examining it. She smelled the rose perfume that it was scented with, and smiled delightedly. "Thank you, it's lovely!"
"Not as lovely as you" Mat said. He thought that was probably too much mush, but she did not seem to mind, this time. She laid the rose on the table, and gracefully picked up one of the rolls, with her arched fingers that were used to long nails. Mat joined her at the table and began to eat his supper. They had roasted mutton, some gilded fish, baby turnips with carrots and a nice meat sauce for dipping the fresh bread in. Mat was hungry this evening, since worry had taken his appetite lately and he had skipped his earlier meals.
They were almost finished with their meal when Selucia entered. She bowed deeply to Tuon. Then looked sharply at Mat. "My lady, There is a man here to see Lord Mat. He says he is from the Dragon Reborn. His name is Lord Ablar, and he is from Ghealdan."
Mat frowned as the colors swirled. Light, he did not have time for that now, and they disappeared without forming an image. The man's name was not familiar. Mat sharply questioned Selucia, "What can you tell me about him? How did he get here? What does he look like? How is this man dressed?" Tuon nodded to Selucia, for her to answer.
Selucia sniffed "Well, My Lord, The man arrived at the front hall, presented himself, and asked for you by name only, without any title. He is tall, broad shouldered with longish dark hair. He seems to be in his middle years. Also he is wearing a black coat, with pins at the collar... a sword and some kind of creature."
Mat nodded, "He is an Ashaman then, and probably quite dangerous. I will be protected." Mat felt for his fox head medallion. He glanced at Tuon, with a suddenly fierce look in his eyes. "I have to talk to him. You do not. You cannot speak to him anyhow, as he is below your eyes. And it is much too dangerous. Your guards and your damane cannot keep you safe from him. Selucia is your Voice, she can speak for you... she does anyhow. She can accompany me. I don't think he would harm her, but you, he might bloody well be tempted."
Selucia looked at Mat with a new appreciation. To her mistress, she said with a nod, "Lord Mat is right, Your Highness. There is nothing to gain if you meet with this Ashaman." She said that last word with a grimace. "He did not ask for you anyhow. You should remain here and be safe."
Tuon thought a moment, then agreed with their logic. "I will remain here. Selucia, have 'Lord Ablar' shown to the small audience chamber." To Mat she said sternly, "You will agree to nothing without conferring with me first." Mat readily agreed in this, as she was wise beyond her years. "As you say, my Lady."
He went to the wardrobe and picked out one of his new outfits and began to dress. He was used to Selucia's presence by now and could ignore her, as she was always barging in on him and Tuon.
How much did Rand and this Lord Ablar know? he wondered. The colors swirled, but he forced them away. Light, he had almost been expecting this visit. He was probably being called to account for his actions here in the Seanchan Empire. Well, Mat would see what this Ashaman had to say.