A week later, Taril came up with a weave for the men to bond their wives. It was apparently similar to the weave that the Aes Sedai used to bond their Warders. Before Neya or Mazrim even heard about it, the Dedicated had already demonstrated it for everyone who asked. Amusingly enough, the only way he could show them was by kissing his wife and weaving the bond in place as he did so. Mazrim's eyes flashed with fury when he found out, although his face remained impassive. He told the men and Taril in particular to stop experimenting with such things without his permission and gave them all extra chores for having loitered around too long.
When Neya arrived for their daily meeting that evening, Mazrim was sitting at the table, an empty goblet in front of him. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he was brooding. She sat across from him, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. He fixed his eyes on her, scowling darkly. "I won't bond you," he declared without preamble.
She hadn't thought he would. They had spent a lot of time together since they'd come back from Dumai's Wells, but the man didn't let anything on. Neya had no clue how he felt about her. Sometimes she was afraid he considered her like nothing more than his bed warmer. Still, she had an idea. She did her best to look genuinely offended. "I certainly hope not," she replied coolly. His scowl deepened. Obviously, this was not what he'd expected. "What makes you think I'd want you to bond me? You really believe I want you to know everything I feel?" she scoffed. "We're not married, Mazrim," she told him with a small sneer.
He stared at her for a minute, clearly startled by her reaction, although as usual, it hardly showed on his face. "Right," he mumbled eventually with a dismissive gesture. Dinner was served a moment later and they moved on to business, and then to bed.
She lay on her side, and he rested behind her with an arm across her chest, as he often did. She was comfortable and beginning to drowse when he finally took the bait she had planted earlier. "We could try it tonight," he whispered in her ear. "Just for a while." He didn't specify what they were supposed to try and he didn't need to. Neya grinned widely as she turned to face him. Hook, line and sinker, she thought smugly.
She had read about this concept in one of Elan's books dating from the Age of Legends. Reverse psychology, it was called. The gist of it was that you simply argued in favour of what you didn't want the other person to do and, somehow, that would lead them to do exactly the opposite of what you suggested, which was in fact what you did want them to do. She had struggled with the theory for a while; the phrasing had been made of uselessly complicated terms. Elan explained in plainer words, but she'd had her doubts about the method's chances of success. She was glad to know she'd been wrong.
Mazrim was gazing at her intently, eyes narrowed. "You knew I was going to say that, didn't you?" he muttered resignedly. She let out a small giggle and he sighed dramatically. "I do keep underestimating you, don't I?" he murmured, moving forward to kiss her. She shivered slightly as he did but a sudden booming awareness made her gasp. Mazrim stopped what he was doing, but Neya barely noticed. Her mind now seemed to be made of two entities.
She lay there gaping, unable to move. She could feel him, not just physically, but intellectually, psychically, emotionally. They stared at each other for a long time. She couldn't even begin to understand the whirlwind that was his mind. Emotions came and went, some flickering, others glowing bright. How could the man even think with this tempest raging in his head, let alone appear so poised all the bloody time? Abruptly, his focus seemed to sharpen, and Neya felt herself blush when she identified the emotion linked to it.
What happened next was even better than she had imagined.