Chapter Three

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It was late afternoon when Kalasin woke up from her troubled sleep, not feeling very rested. How could she? She had dreamed about Kaddar, and this time he wasn't wearing a bright lime green ball gown. Now that she was awake, she couldn't even remember the dream, which was really quite pathetic.

The only thing she remembered was a kiss. On her lips. A very long, lingering one. And for some reason, he had tickled her nose with a dandelion. And then, she had broken away, leaning into his embrace. After that, they had watched the sun set.

Kalasin didn't know whether to laugh, or to retch. She and Kaddar didn't kiss and watch sunsets. They swatted each other with quills and sat out on the balcony and argued, ignoring the sunset or the chirps of little birds. Until now, she had never thought about it, really—except replaying their conversations for opportunities to find new sarcastic comebacks. She still didn't know why this dream bothered her so much.

Except maybe for the fact that in her dream, she had enjoyed being kissed.

Kalasin thought about it for a moment, and came up with two reasonable solutions. One was that he had spiked the last thing she drank before she had fallen asleep with a dream—nightmare—potion. The other was that the cold temperature had gotten to her, and she was linking the last person she had seen before falling asleep to any random thoughts. She favored the second possibility. It was the one that aroused less negative feelings in her.

After she had taken a well deserved hot bath and dressed in clothes that weren't wet and muddy, Kalasin felt much better. She wandered around their chambers for a while, wondering why Kaddar hadn't popped out of the study to ask her why she cleaned up so well, but couldn't manage to be nice for an entire day. She stuck her head into the study, finding it empty, save for a parchment note on the desk.

Kalasin, I'll be in the gardens if you need me.

Under that was a scribbled-out drawing. It was certainly a freakish animal, Kalasin observed curiously. One half of its face was a cat's. The other half was a zebra, complete with stripes. Strangest of all, the half-cat half-zebra had an enormous amount of what she assumed was long, black hair. And it was wearing a crown. That wasn't all. The eyes seemed to have been dyed with something resembling blueberry juice.

…Oh.

Kalasin blushed hard, dropped the note, and collapsed into his favorite armchair, scuffing the black leather with her fluffy slippers. That idiot. He was so strange. Responsible, mature, her senior by six years, and he acted like this? It was a caricature, for Mithros' sake.

She buried her still-burning face in her hands. "I hate you," she said aloud, voice muffled. "I love to hate you. I will hate you for the rest of our days together, from this day forth to the day of our death. From health to sickness, from prosperity to poverty, I will make your life miserable. I will not have you or hold you; I will despise you and poke you with my quill."

"Are you happy, Kaddar Iliniat?"

She just sat there for a long time, trying to calm herself, and marveled at how complicated her life had become. Living on the brink of all-out war with the person you shared a room with wasn't very easy. Except they didn't just share a room. They shared a bed (which was rather inconvenient when Kaddar decided he wanted to have all the blankets to himself), a library, a study, and a country.

And their lives.

Kalasin had never really thought of it that way before. That one way or another, she and Kaddar would be together for the rest of their lives. They would continue to rule Carthak together, and—she almost squeaked at the thought—there would have to be heirs. Children.

Kalasin tried to imagine doing…that…with Kaddar, and failed. They hadn't kissed since their wedding, except for certain occasions where it was mandatory. Even then, she had half-expected him to bite her lip. After all, she would do the same.

Involuntarily, she flashed back to her dream. There had been no lip-biting then. Actually…there was one little incident…but that had been very enjoyable, and not painful at all.

Kalasin froze as she remembered another detail. It was them. The Kally and Kaddar in her dream were enjoying themselves. They weren't worried, stressed, angry, or exhausted. They were relaxed, enjoying each other's company. And her dream-self had felt comfortable with him, not on her guard or preparing to deflect sarcasm.

Oh, no. This was not going to happen, not after she had taken her oath of hatred. She was going to hate him, if it killed them both.

She groaned, realizing the likelihood of that situation. She could only imagine both of them, dying together, yet alone and miserable. She could also imagine them tormenting each other in the afterlife. Goddess. This thought, more than anything, gave her the motivation to head outside to the gardens, a plan forming in her head.

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Through some miracle, Kalasin managed to find her way to Kaddar's rose garden after only two wrong turns and being attacked by an irate canary once. She had been here once before, when they were engaged. Kaddar's great-aunt had been chaperoning them, and the old woman had watched them like a hawk. Not like there was anything to worry about. They had been very polite, very proper, and actually had a normal conversation. Needless to say, that was before the hatred came into play. She used her Gift to bend the wall of vines apart, and they formed a perfect doorway for her to walk through.

When she entered the garden, she had just stopped and gaped. It was beautiful. Roses dominated the entire landscape, their colors ranging from the creamy shades of white, to bright yellows, mixed with the pale purples of the north. Vibrant pinks, carmines, and crimsons mixed with the mellower shades, including the unique dark violets that Kaddar treasured. The thick, sweet scent of the roses infused the air, along with the fragrant perfumes of orange blossoms.

Orange trees lined the circular courtyard, and one had a swing attached to a lower bough. Kalasin perched on the swing, listening to the fountain bubble. She inhaled and exhaled again, a smile spreading over her face. It was so peaceful.

"What are you doing here?" The whisper came from very close, and Kalasin yelped and fell off the swing.

Kaddar couldn't help but laugh as he hopped down from the tree. "That was hilarious. And I thought that you would be too brilliant to fall for that one." He eyed her, sprawled on the grass. "But I hadn't intended for it to be literal. Ah well." He helped her up, and she dusted her gown off and sniffed at him.

"Are you going to listen to what I came here to say, or not?"

Kaddar smirked at her. "A pleasant request from my beloved Kalasin. Of course I will listen. Come here."

Kalasin brushed off the sarcasm, and sat next to him on the cold stone bench near the fountain. That more than anything made him take her more seriously, and he tilted his head curiously. "Go on."

"Do you like things the way they are?" she asked abruptly? "I mean, do you like this? Us?"

Kaddar frowned. She had a habit of saying things he didn't expect. "Explain."

The empress launched into an explanation of the conclusions she had come to in the study, leaving out the parts about her dream, and blushing when she came to the point about heirs. "…It would be best for us to," she hesitated, "to get on better. If we can agree on issues of state, we can do a better job ruling Carthak. I don't want us to spend the rest of our lives tormenting each other. Maybe it'll be easier if we could get along. I don't mean, um, kissing or being affectionate like that, but…"

"…You want us to be friends," Kaddar completed. She nodded sheepishly. "A truce, of sorts."

He leaned back against the fountain. "This is unexpected," he mumbled. "Kalasin, I…I think I agree. With you."

She looked astonished.

Kaddar nudged her gently. "Don't get used to it," he teased.

Kalasin looked like she didn't know what to do for a moment, and then smiled a little shyly. "Don't even think about sealing this with a kiss," she warned. "I'll hit you if you do."

"I would never," protested Kaddar, sounding hurt. "I'll seal this by deciding to share the blankets tonight—and I'm even going to ask your opinion on a scroll rewrite for Siraj. Aren't I kind?"

"You are," she assured him, as they set out for the palace again. "Oh, and Kaddar?"

"Mmm?"

"You still aren't allowed to hold my hand. Or ravish me."

Kaddar sighed almost inaudibly. Some things never changed.

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