Chapter Ten

Kalasin didn't want to admit it, but she was enjoying this vacation. Every day of it. It was such a relief not having to deal with politics and money all the time, and having actual free time was definitely a good thing.

Even Kaddar was being less obnoxious, after being away from the capital for about a week. Less arrogant and generally vexing. He was almost normal now, except for his frustrating tendency to plan more than five moves ahead in less than a minute, enabling him to successfully stonewall her, and then put her in checkmate in the next fifteen minutes. It was abnormal.

Kalasin liked being lazy, most of all. She could stay in bed for as long as she wanted (which generally translated into as long as Kaddar could stifle his obsessive tendency to open the window as soon as the sun rose), lie around reading, sleep some more, play chess, have half-hearted mini-arguments with Kaddar—because the day wouldn't be complete without one—eat, read, play on the beach, watch birds, and then fall asleep again. There weren't any pressing duties, no threats from irritating councilors that the fate of the country rested on this decision, no ruthless hairstyles, no need to wear the perfect gown for this or that party, and above all, the food was wonderful here.

After a week of this blissful existence, Kalasin realized something startling. She didn't want to go back to the Imperial Palace. She wanted to stay here for the rest of her life. In a moment of either delirium or impulsiveness, she had told Kaddar just that.

He blinked. "It's lovely here, but do you want the rival factions to take over the country?"

Kalasin tapped her finger on her chin. "It depends. Would rival factions show any interest in Radzyn? I thought they were only interested in Thak's Gate, after all."

Kaddar sighed. "They would conquer whatever lay in their path, including Radzyn. They would probably torch the entire place to the ground, and unless you want to live in the cellars, that would pretty much ruin your plan to stay here for the rest of your life. Of course, if the rebels found us, the rest of our lives wouldn't be much longer," he added as an afterthought. "And there are some strange things in the forest, so we couldn't live there, either."

"Pessimist," sulked Kalasin.

"Realist," he corrected, then got up and stretched. "We'll enjoy the time we have left. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have seaweed in my hair."

Kalasin watched him leave, and exhaled in defeat. She flopped down on the sofa, closed her eyes wearily, and went to sleep.

--

Upon waking up, the first thing she saw was Kaddar's face. Not an extremely horrible sight by any means, but it was just a little jarring to have it an inch from hers.

"Argh!" she yelled, grabbing the discarded blanket and disappearing under it in a flailing tangle of long, coltish limbs. "Were you trying to kiss me?" was the indignant demand, muffled by the heavy blanket's weave.

"Why do you always assume that I'm either trying to kiss or do something perverted to you?" Kaddar grumbled. "My mind, unlike yours, has not taken up permanent residence in the gutter. My ego, unlike yours, has not grown to the size of Maren, and—"

"—You, unlike me, are an insufferable prick." He could almost see her smirk through the blanket.

"Very funny," he replied, snatching it off her. "I'm doubled up in laughter. Now, be serious. I need to talk to you."

"Why do I have to be serious?" she said dryly, getting up and sitting on the window seat. "I, unlike you, am not doubled up in laughter."

Kaddar considered pushing her out on the balcony to dangle for a while, but decided against it. That would definitely not improve foreign relations. "You," he began, sounding annoyed, and then ruffled his hair, looking rather defeated. "Are not going to like this."

"We're going back?"

"No."

"Rival factions?"

"No. Worse."

"The Copper Isles grew a backbone and a brain and decided to band together to attack our western coast?"

Kaddar thought about it for a moment. "That's worse enough. But this is cataclysmic."

"No genocide or foreign attacks?" Kalasin asked, wide-eyed.

"Great-aunt Parvati." He heard a muffled squeak, followed by a thump.

Kalasin now sat on the floor, staring up at him. "Why? Why this? I know you don't like me, but this is a bit harsh!"

Kaddar yelped, "Why are you blaming this on me? I didn't invite her! She's just…coming!"

She stood in front of him, arms crossed. "This is your fault, because she's related to you and not me, and obviously, she found out that we were here because of your carelessness, not mine."

"You are truly disgusting," muttered Kaddar. "It doesn't matter. We have to get ready. She'll be here by evening."

Kalasin stared for a moment. "At least I packed one ballgown. I'm going to bathe now. I smell like salt, and great-aunt Parvati wouldn't like that."

"Ah, Kalasin," he called. She turned to face him, and he winced, bracing himself for the incoming verbal impact. Fidgeting, he looked down at the floor. "Aunt Parvati thinks that you're quiet, shy, and reserved, with a fondness for watching sunsets and reading poetry. She also thinks that we're, er, very-much-in-love."

There was utter silence for a few moments, followed by a sound that might have been either a snarl or a growl. Then came the cushion, thrown right at his head. He staggered back and fell down on the window seat, bumping his head hard. "Ow!" Her raging voice only served to hurt his head further, and he sunk down with a groan of pain. "I don't deserve this," he muttered to himself.

"Oh, yes you do!" Kalasin yelled in his face. "Quiet, shy, reserved? Poetry? In love with you" Each word was punctuated by a sharp poke in the chest. "You lied about me? Why would you even do something so asinine? You know what?" she continued furiously, "don't even tell me. And I hope that bump on your head plagues you for the rest of your miserable life!"

With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Kaddar groaned in pain. And yet again, he had managed to say exactly the wrong thing, and now had a very irate Kalasin to deal with.

It wasn't even noon yet, and he already knew the day was going to end badly.

--

Her corset was cinched far too tight, and Kalasin hoped that her expression wasn't that of a young woman having her ribs slowly crushed. Shy, quiet, reserved, she chanted mentally. Shy, quiet, reserved. Poking at a side of chicken tandoori as shyly as possible, she put on her reserved face for the fifth time so far.

That obviously pleased Great-Aunt Parvati, for she gave Kalasin an appraising look through her wrinkled face. "Kalasin," she began slowly. "Kaddar tells me that you enjoy reading poetry. Have you read any of Aishwarya Revi's works?"

Kaddar's foot nudged hers under the table. "Er! Yes, yes I have," Kalasin said hurriedly. "I'm quite a fan of her poems."

Parvati grinned widely, displaying her lack of teeth. "Excellent! What do you think of her Flight of the Autumn Butterfly?"

Kalasin accidentally swallowed a bit too much wine, nudging a suddenly pale Kaddar with her foot. What do I say, she asked silently. He shrugged discreetly, and she glared at him, before remembering that shy and reserved young women didn't glare, instead schooling her face into a calm expression. And now she was going to make a fool of herself in front of Kaddar's aunt. Lovely.

"It was…very enlightening?" she offered. "I especially liked the part where the autumn butterfly's…mate died…during the migration…it had great emotional depth."

Parvati swallowed a surprisingly large mouthful of chicken fried rice, and then frowned slightly. "Interesting. I don't quite remember that part…"

Kalasin fidgeted, and expertly turned it into a shy glance at her napkin. "I might be mistaken."

"Oh, no, dear," Parvati reassured, giving Kalasin a gap-toothed smile. "I'm old, after all, and my memory isn't what it used to be." She leaned back, absentmindedly picking between her teeth with a fish bone, and smiled suddenly. "My, you two make such a gorgeous couple."

Kalasin and Kaddar both jumped in their chairs, startled, and then settled back down with a little bit of awkward laughter. They leaned toward each other simultaneously, trying to look like a gorgeous, harmonious couple. Kaddar actually leaned in a little too far, bumping Kalasin on the head. She almost yelped, but turned it into an almost-giggle. Or a half-hiccup.

Parvati looked at her curiously, and Kalasin leaned a little farther into Kaddar, fluttering her fan lightly. "He has, ah, very nice eyes," she explained, trying not to choke on her words.

The great-aunt beamed. "The eyes came from my side of the family," she explained proudly. She peered at Kalasin. "Ah, the famous Conté blue." She was silent for a moment, lapsing into thought, her gnarled hands twisting on the table. "I have no idea what color your children's eyes will be," she admitted. "Both colors are dominant in each side of the family, so only time will tell. I'm fairly certain the children will inherit Kalasin's nose, though."

Kalasin choked again, this time for real. Kaddar simply gaped. "Children. Oh, um, children. I…we…"

Parvati patted his hand. "I know it's hard to think about now, when all you have eyes for is one another. But the realm needs heirs, and the sooner the better."

Kaddar risked a look at Kalasin's side of the table. She had paled, and then blushed, and now she was intently studying the work on her wineglass, still an unhealthy shade of red.

Unaware of the consternation she had caused, Parvati yawned blithely. "My old bones are getting tired. One dance, and I think that we should all head up to bed. No," she told Kaddar, declining his offer. "Dance with Kalasin. I'm sure she's getting lonely."

Kalasin tried not to burst out laughing at the phrase and the expression on Kaddar's face as he looked at her. "I'm pining," she said softly, with a flutter of her eyelashes.

When they were both out on the dance floor, and the violins had struck up their plaintive, enchanting melody, Kalasin couldn't help but remember what Parvati had said about children. Heirs. The sooner the better. She flushed again, looking at the floor, and Kaddar nudged the top of her head with his chin. She looked up at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile as he spun her around.

The song changed, this time to a faster tempo and a traditional Carthaki tune. It was certainly dizzying, Kalasin thought as she executed a complicated step and avoided stepping on Kaddar's foot. This one was certainly more enjoyable, but it made her feel so much more out of her depth.

The music sped up, and they spun again, Kaddar keeping a close grip on her, carefully preventing her from falling. She was definitely a little now, and she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of something very deep. Too much wine, the empress thought giddily. It was a good thing Kaddar was keeping her straight.

The music came to a crescendo and then a dramatic finish, leaving the couple holding each other on the dance floor again. The falling sensation was there again, even though Kaddar's arms were secure around her. He leaned down, and she tilted her head up. Their lips met for one dizzy second, and then they parted. He tasted like wine, she noted.

A strange emotion welled up inside her as they released each other, and she couldn't put a name to it until an hour later, until both of them were curled up in bed.

For the first time in her life, she hadn't wanted to let go.

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