Delivegu folded himself into the chair. He managed to do nothing overtly indecorous, and yet he pushed up close to the line with every gesture: the manner in which he leaned back against the plush backrest, the way his fingers brushed the open collar of his white shirt, the cast of his long legs, parted just enough to invite eyes toward his virility.
Corinn watched him from the far side of her desk. With his trace of a smile and the way he seemed to shift his focus from one eye to the other and back again and the way his lips stayed parted, moistened by his tongue before he spoke, Delivegu acted as if there were no space between them at all. They might have been plastered together after lovemaking. Such was the sensual excess that dripped from him like sweat.
“Did you do it?”
“I saw to it, Your Majesty. I timed it to cast no blame upon myself. Or upon you. It’s done. Soon you’ll hear wailing coming all the way from Calfa Ven.”
Corinn let nothing show on her face, but inside, her heart caught for a moment on the thought of Dariel-wherever he was-hearing that wailing. Perhaps he would not hear it. Perhaps he was dead and gone, and would never know what she had done. Am I such a monster, she asked herself, that I would kill my brother’s lover and his child-and then look to my brother’s death with relief?
Worse things had been done by her ancestors, and for less reason. Reading through the Akaran royal archives had shown her that. By comparison to the secret crimes of her ancestors, Corinn’s acts were small wrongs done for larger goals. Who but other monarchs could understand the decisions rulers must make? Not even Aliver had carried such a burden. Not Mena. Not Dariel.
“None but my ancestors could judge me,” she said.
Delivegu dipped his head. “It was a small thing, Your Majesty.”
You’re right about that, Corinn thought. It had not seemed like a small thing when she gave him the mission, but so much had changed. The palace hummed now with energy for the coming coronation. She had been hosting the flood of dignitaries arriving from all over the empire for several days. Banquets and dances, speeches and parades and performances in the Carmelia. It was all hastily prepared. A good portion of the empire also mustered for war, but there was a giddy vibrancy to everything. She felt like a child, as if she believed again that the world could be as she wished. She was not sure that she had truly felt that as a child, but she knew a princess was supposed to feel that way. Now, because of her own hard work, she did.
Rhrenna appeared in the doorway. Standing framed within it, she reminded Corinn that Aliver would be along soon to escort her to the meeting. Corinn watched Delivegu appraise the secretary as she turned on her heel and moved out of sight. She was lovely in a thin-featured, Meinish way. Under Corinn’s critical eye, Rhrenna had developed a fine fashion sense, wearing clothes that flattered her slim figure.
Corinn wondered if Delivegu had slept with her. Rhrenna was discreet in her romantic life, but she had recently admitted to Corinn that she could not have children. She had never yet gotten pregnant. By her own estimation, she should have by now, if it was possible for her. Corinn made a mental note to advise her not to be seen with Delivegu, not if she wanted a chance at being an Acacian queen. And why shouldn’t she become queen? Rhrenna had been a more faithful servant to her than anybody. Hers was a disgraced people, but allowing such a marriage would be seen as an act of benevolence, forgiveness. Considering that she could not bear children… well, there would not be that complication to Aaden’s inheritance to deal with. It would not be so hard to weave an attraction to her into the binding spells around Aliver. She decided to begin to do that, slowly, at a pace that would bloom right around the coronation.
Delivegu found Corinn’s eyes still on him when he swiveled back to her. “With this behind us, what more would you have me do? You know I wish to serve you in any manner you require.”
The queen lifted her chin. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Delivegu bowed. “As you order. All I wish is to fulfill whatever you desire.”
Delivegu, you musky animal. As if it’s my desires you concern yourself with, Corinn thought after he departed. You will never have me. Nobody will.
“Nobody after me, you mean?”
The voice entered Corinn’s ear as if the speaker’s lips were just beside it. At first it was just a voice. She recognized it, though. She could not have mistaken the superior tenor of it, so smooth and confident, the speaker as pleased with himself as a pampered cat. By the Giver, she knew that voice!
“Because I certainly had you. Body completely. Soul… almost.”
She had heard it in so many variations. Giving speeches, rallying crowds, barking orders. She had heard it jesting over a banquet table, telling tales, poking fun at her. She had heard it panting her name in passion, and had lain entwined as it spoke softly, breaths against the nape of her bare neck.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
Then she felt the physical presence that came with the voice. He was there in the corner. She did not turn to look directly at him, but she saw him at the border of her vision. Just barely physical, so near the edge that with a step he could have slipped back around the corner of her mind, out of sight. He leaned against the wall, watching her with his gray eyes. She knew they were gray. Beautiful and gray, more at home in the face that displayed them than any eyes she had ever seen. She knew when he swept a hand up over his blond hair, combing it with his fingers. She did not look. For some reason it felt very important that she not look directly at him.
“Look at me, lover. You haven’t forgotten me. How could you when I left you proof? A proof that you love more than anything else in the world. Which, in a way, means I still possess you, Corinn. That’s why you’ll never take another man.”
“No, that’s not why.”
“No?” He shifted. She imagined the curious purse of his thin lips, the way he would lift his eyebrows and fix her with all his charismatic attention. “Then why have you never been with another man?”
“Because none are worthy.”
Hanish laughed. “So after me, no other man is worthy of you? I have ruined you. The pity for the world of men!”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” She still did not wish to talk, but the words came anyway. “You were not worthy either. You were all weak, treacherous. Every man I… Every man who loved me failed me. My father died. He said he would protect me. Instead he died. There, that’s one. Igguldan-”
“Oh, that’s right. He died, too.”
“He spouted love and promises, and then went off and died, yes.”
“Who else?” Hanish taunted. “Your brother, don’t forget him.”
“Aliver died. Dariel disappeared-”
“You can’t hold that against him! He may still be alive.”
“And you…”
“So you’ve been shaped by the failures of men?”
“No, you don’t understand me! None of you shaped me, but all of you taught me to trust only myself. Only myself. You most of all taught me that.”
“I know.” Hanish’s tone changed. Just two words, but they instantly filled with regret, with a sincerity it was hard to doubt. “About me you’re right. I knew what I was doing was vile. I hated it, and yet I went forward. But, Corinn, don’t pretend you don’t understand the pressures of leadership. Didn’t you just have your beloved younger brother’s lover killed? Forgive me if I misunderstood the exchange, but that’s what it sounded like. I know why you did it. I’m not sure you had to, but I understand that you were protecting our son. I can’t fault you for that. I want him safe, too.”
It was so hard not to look at him. It took all her control to keep her eyes pinned to a spot on the wall opposite. “You tried to kill us.”
“If you had a chain of undead ancestors demanding blood, you’d kill for them, too! Besides, I didn’t know you were pregnant. That would have been… complicating. Corinn, if I had known, I would never have tried to go through with it. You know that, don’t you? You must believe me on that. If you had only told me, I’d have turned on the Tunishnevre instead. You and I would still be together. Still in love.”
“No.”
“Let me prove it.”
“No,” she said again. It was hard to make the word, and she got no further.
“You know it’s true. Look at me. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not.”
“Well, not completely,” the apparition conceded. “You almost brought me back. It could have been me instead of Aliver. I was that close. You wanted someone to trust. Someone to help you. Despite everything, Corinn, it was nearly I you brought back to life. Think of that.”
The pipers began to play the hour. Their crisp notes cut short the moment. Corinn stood. “I have another meeting,” she said. She felt the figure move as she did. He reached for her. She quickened her step, out into the hallway and then down it toward Rhrenna, who had risen from her own desk as Aliver arrived. She did not need to look back to know that the figure that had been Hanish Mein fell into vapor as she moved away.