A Marq's Woman Ch. 15

She could see the gathered crowd as the ship landed, the winged horses' feet finally landing on Marq ground. Tears rose to Kistle's eyes as she recognized Remy's smiling face and Scar's imposing height. Not waiting for the horseman to tell her that it was safe to leave the ship, Kistle threw the doors open and took her chances with a leap. She knew that Rade would care for Tessa as she traded hugs with her friend.

Remy's open arms met her halfway as both women embraced one another, the agony of being apart for many years finally appearing as crystalline teardrops on their cheeks. Kistle laughed for the sheer pleasure of doing so before pulling back and giving Remy a good, sound kiss on the lips.

"I've missed you!" Remy sniffled, her nose already red.

"I've missed you much, too," Kistle said as the others came forward. The Queen, the King, the little ones, every one surrounded her, calling out to her, questioning her, welcoming her. Kistle was overwhelmed. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and knew that Rade was by her side. Instinctively, she reached out for Tess, who was looking lost and befuddled on Rade's waist.

"Mama," Tess whispered once she was in her mother's hands. "Who are they?"

"Do you know who I am, Tessa?" Remy, who as now standing next to Kistle asked. Tessa shook her head.

"That's your Aunt Remy, sweetie," Kistle explained, and Tessa's face lost its confusion.

"Aunty Remy!" In a moment, she was in Remy's arms.

As Remy introduced Scar to the little girl, Kistle walked over to where Rade was surrounded by Royal family. She positioned herself at his side and curtsied to the Queen.

"Oh, none of that, Kistle. We're past that, are we not?" Chiara tsked, her hands reaching into the folds of her skirt. It was only then that Kistle noticed the little, shy being hiding there. Luna, Kistle thought. It had to be her. Goddess, what a beauty she was!

"You must be Luna," Kistle cooed, leaning toward the little girl. But Luna simply pulled her mother's skirt tightly over her eyes and shied away. Chiara laughed.

"She isn't always that shy, let me tell you."

Kistle laughed and rose, feeling Rade's hand clasping hers. She huddled closer to him, looking over at Tess to see if she was getting along well with the ladies. Surprisingly, it was Scar who had Tessa draped over her back like they were already well-acquainted. Tessa looked like she was having fun.

Happiness welled within Kistle's heart as she watched her daughter with her friends. She had missed them so very much.

But what she could not explain was the empowering feeling of comfort buzzing through her body. This planet had a charm that Rasphere could not compete with. Perhaps Marqatia had been fated to be her homeland.

"Come. I had the servants prepare a feast for your return," King Dominique announced, hands around his wife's shoulders.

"Oh dear. You shouldn't have..." Kistle began.

"Nonsense, Kistle. You've returned home after so long. A feast is the least we could offer to welcome you back."

The crowd broke in the large foyer, with the Queen carrying a fussing Luna to her room. Dominique invited Rade for a glass of wine, to update him on the going-ons of the planet. Scar kissed Remy on the cheek and parted with the excuse that she had to check on the soldiers. That left Kistle, Tessa and Remy standing in the wide expanse of the foyer. Unlike the previous time she had stood there, Kistle didn't feel lost and abandoned. She felt full, happy, knowing that people she could trust were within shouting distance. It was a luxury she hadn't known for a long while.

"Come, I have asked the servants to draw a bath for you," Remy said, the smile on her face unwavering. Tessa stood beside her, looking around at the jewel-encrusted walls. Kistle knew exactly how her daughter felt.

*

"I can't believe you're finally home!" Remy repeated for the umpteenth time as Kistle and Tessa washed in the large tub.

"I can't believe it, either," Kistle returned with a laugh, pouring a bucket of clean water over her head to clear the soap suds on her body. Tessa reached for the smaller bucket and did the same.

"The last time I was here, Tessa was in here." Kistle ran a hand over her stomach. Tessa giggled and signaled to her mother to bend over.

"Aunty Remy is soo pretty," she whispered, casting a shy glance towards Remy as she said that. Kistle laughed and said that Tessa was prettier than Remy was.

"I can hear both of you, you know," Remy called from her perch on the bed.

Both mother and daughter laughed as they toweled off.

The Queen had provided them with bejeweled dresses, as Kistle had expected. For Tessa, the Queen had sent a dress made from gold pleats, with swirls of darker brown on it. For Kistle, a royal-blue dress lay on the bed, embroidered with silver streamers. The luxurious material was a far cry from the cotton and wool that she was used to wearing.

Remy helped Kistle and Tessa comb their hair. Mother and daughter decided on the same hairstyle – an elegant bun with a simple ribbon holding loose strands away from their eyes. Kistle knew that she was much too old for the innocent hairstyle, but the ribbon looked too adorable for her to take off. She had not felt young in a while.

After a few sprays of wildflower-scented perfume, the threesome emerged from the room, ready for a feast.

*

The dining hall was bustling with people, many of whom Kistle did not recognize. But as she set foot into marble-floored area, a soldier came forward and bowed to her. Startled, Kistle took a step back. But when he raised his head, Kistle gasped in recognition.

"Sir Quinn! Oh my." She raised a hand to her heart.

"Lady Kistle. It's good to see that you've finally returned," Quinn replied, jerking his head slightly to the side to flip forelocks of dark hair away from his eyes. Kistle smiled. If it were possible, the man had gotten more handsome than the last time she had seen him.

"It's good to be home as well." There was a tug at her skirts. "Oh, Sir, this is my daughter, Tessa."

The knight bowed again and Tessa smiled up at him.

"Such beauty could only be of your making, Lady Kistle."

Kistle laughed and waved him off, telling him that she needed to look for Rade. She weaved through the crowd looking for him, smiling at everyone who nodded in her direction, but saw him no where. She did see, however, that Remy was getting cozy with Scar behind a pillar. The scandalous sight had her turning Tessa in the opposite direction immediately.

"Your Majesty!" Kistle called out to Chiara when she spotted the Queen walking into the hall. "Your Majesty, have you seen Rade?"

"Oh, Dominique told me that Rade was in his study. Here, here," Chiara stalled Kistle as she started in the direction that the Queen had pointed to. "I'll take care of Tessa. You go ahead and find your Rade."

Kistle looked down at Tessa, who seemed enthralled by the large number of people around her. She would be all right with the Queen, Kistle knew. And so, she gathered the alien weight of her skirts and climbed the stairs towards Rade's study.

*

There was a row of doors aligning the corridor, and light showed from under only a few rooms. Shrugging, Kistle moved towards the first lighted room. Just as she was about to knock, she heard a burst of gay, feminine laughter, and stepped back. A woman who laughed like that... Kistle knew that whoever it was in there was keeping loose women for company. She blushed, turning away, ridding her thoughts of the sinful images in her mind.

She knocked on the other doors, but no one answered them. Frowning, she turned in time to see the first door she'd attempted to knock on, open. Concerned that she might be thought of as prying, she immediately hid behind a stone pillar.

A busty woman emerged, clad in a tight, shamefully-red gown. Thinking that no one was watching her, she pulled at her bodice and stuffed the indecently large globes of her breasts back into it. Kistle shook her head, wondering why loose women received such pleasure in flaunting their assets.

But it was her companion that made Kistle feel light-headed.

A small sound of utter misery escaped her lips as Rade stepped out after the woman, buttoning his blue doublet as he did.

Kistle couldn't breathe. What was Rade doing with such a woman? A million thoughts raced through her head. She didn't understand, for she didn't want to believe the worst. He couldn't be seeking pleasure from a harlot, could he? Oh Goddess, no! She would not believe such nonsense. He should have another, more viable reason for meeting with a woman who wore bright red dresses. She trusted him more than that. Yes, she trusted him and had faith in him. He loved her. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her... she believed that.

Kistle took large, gulping, calming breaths, trying to contain the tears in her eyes. She told herself that he had to have an explanation for the meeting. He simply had to...

Composed, calm, and quivering on the inside, Kistle stepped out from her hiding place and strode towards the hall.

*

Rade resisted the urge to flinch as Remy sent another one of her blade-like stares towards him. He had a distinct feeling that she didn't like him very much, but he had no idea why. Had he said something hurtful to her? Rade chewed on his herbed lamb as he thought of it. He couldn't remember having said anything hate-worthy to her.

"Your friend hates me," Rade commented in a whisper to Kistle. Kistle. Now, she was another problem altogether. Ever since she had returned from her bath, she had been nothing but cordial to him. Her eyes were red-rimmed as well, telling him that she was probably tired from the long journey... or that she had cried. Since she had no reason to cry, he did away with the notion. But he noted that she did however, despite her exhaustion, smile appropriately and mutter relevant responses to people who came forward to talk to her.

"I wouldn't know why" was Kistle's response to his question. Rade stared down at Kistle, a niggling feeling that something was amiss seeping into his blood. Mayhap she wasn't actually tired, but something else was plaguing her.

"Is something wrong, Kistle?" he asked her as she pushed the lamb around in her plate, but she merely shook her head, reaching for the glass of wine on the table. He was about to put another question across to her, when a maid came running into the dining room, her skirts whooshing across the floors in a hurry.

"What is it?" Dominique, seated at the end of the table, asked the flustered maid.

"'Tis Master Ryder, Your Majesty," the maid blurted, and a curse was heard from Scar's seat as she excused herself from the table. "He-he's wielding his sword against a g-girl!"

Kistle and Rade were out of their seats in a heartbeat.

Rade's heart nearly gave out as he spotted Tessa in her pantalets, a training sword clasped in her hands. She thrust it against her opponent's sword, a young boy about eight summers in age. Little Dominique stood by, his sword sheath empty. He cheered for his friend as the boy fought a young girl half his age.

Scar was already making her way down to the field, where the fight was taking place, but paused on the last step when Tessa made a quick turn and rammed her little foot into Ryder's face. Rade, too, paused when he saw that. The small crowd of training boys that had gathered in the field, jeered.

Tessa stepped back and waited for her opponent to get his bearings. She twisted her neck to the right, then to the left, loosening the tensed muscles there. Playing with Ryder was so fun. Rade always let her win when she played with him.

Scar turned to stare at Rade. "Did you see what she just did?"

"What?" Rade asked, focused intently on the scene before him. Damn, but his daughter was good.

"She eased the crick in her neck, just like you do. See how she's holding the sword? With the knuckle of her middle finger pointing outward like that? You do that, too."

Rade raised his eyebrows, realizing that Scar's observation was indeed true. His daughter had picked up many habits from him, including the talent of sword-fighting – that was a surety.

"Watching them fight is getting my muscles moving," Scar commented, rubbing her arms. She was impressed by the way little Tessa wielded the sword. If Rade allowed it, Scar would've liked to take Tessa as a pupil, though Rade probably wanted Tessa all to himself.

"What do you say we..." Rade let his sentence trail off, as he gestured toward the sword that hung from Scar's hips.

"A bottle of my best wine against yours."

They were on the field, beside the young ones, in an instant.

*

There was a knock on the door just as Kistle pulled the covers over Tessa's half-asleep form. The poor girl was so tired from the day's activities – not to mention the travel – that she had almost fallen asleep while Kistle fed her a long-awaited dinner. The maid in charge of feeding the children had apologized profusely for being unable to contain the rowdy lot, but the King had said that it did not matter. The commotion had contributed to a very entertaining evening in the end. Poor Ryder had a horrible blue bruise on his cheek where Tess had kicked him. All through dinner, the boy had stared daggers at a sleepy Tessa.

But no amount of amusement could have caused Kistle to smile. With a sigh, she turned away from her daughter and plodded in her bare feet toward the door. There could only be two people calling for her at this hour: Remy or Rade. She prayed it wasn't Rade, for she did not feel like seeing him at all.

But the Goddess wasn't listening to her prayers, for when she opened the door, his imposing figure blocked the doorway.

"Did you want something?" Kistle asked, her tone curt. Rade frowned.

"Is something wrong, Kistle? You haven't been yourself since dinner."

She didn't want any of the servants to eavesdrop on their conversation, so she stepped aside and allowed him into the room.

"She made me so proud today," Rade said aloud when he saw Tessa sprawled on the mattress.

Then, clearing his head, he turned back to Kistle. "If something is wrong, I would like you to talk to me."

"What would make you think that something isn't right?" Kistle avoided his eyes as she stood in front of him, hands clasped at the waist. What am I doing? she wondered. I thought I wasn't going to mistrust him.

Sighing, Rade sat at the edge of the bed, taking in the rigidity of Kistle's form. There was something that she was keeping from him.

"What were you doing with that woman today?"

Rade raised his eyebrows with the confidence of a man who knew that he had nothing to hide. "Which woman?"

Kistle blew out a large breath. "That woman. You were in your study with her. I don't want to believe the worst, Rade. So I'm asking you..."

"You're asking me?" Rade struggled to contain his amusement as he finally understood. He couldn't account for the acute relief he felt that that was the only thing that was bothering her. If she'd said that she didn't feel at home in Marqatia and wanted to return...

"I'm asking you who she is. Why were you with her?"

He thought about his response for a moment.

"Kistle, come here," he said finally, but she stood her ground, shaking her head. She was not going anywhere near him until he explained who the loose woman was.

"Fine. I'll come to you."

She didn't move as he came toward her, not wanting to back away as her heart was telling her to. Until he explained himself, she didn't exactly want him to touch her. It felt blasphemous, somehow.

"Don't you trust me, little one?" Her eyes shot upward to meet his. In shock, he knew. He had not called her 'little one' from the time they had been in Kierania. It reminded her of the instances when he would call her that in the midst of pleasure. She shivered.

A question. Yes, he'd put a question to her. "I do, Rade. But I saw you walk out of a locked room with her, buttoning your doublet as you went. What am I to think? I... I don't want to believe."

"Good. You shouldn't believe." He paused. "Come, I want to show you something."

She looked up at him quizzically, but he gave away nothing, leaning over to pull on the cord that called the servants in. He would need someone to watch over Tessa while they were away.

"W-where are you taking me?" she asked as he ushered her – very quickly – down the stairs.

"I want to show you something," he stated, making her wait outside the stables as he went inside to saddle Diane.

"Rade, what does any of this have to do with the woman I saw you with? Will you just – oh!"

She let out a startled squeal as he hefted her onto Diane without a moment's notice. Oh Goddess. She wasn't understanding any of this. What was he doing? He was supposed to explain himself to her, not take her for a ride in the middle of the night!

"You're going to learn to trust me, Kistle," Rade breathed in her ear, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the thunder of Diane's hoofbeats. Kistle didn't know why she felt wretched as he said that, but she did. She decided to wait for him to justify his actions before she said anything else.

The ride didn't last even a handful of minutes. In fact, they could have walked to their destination if Rade hadn't been in such a hurry. He dismounted in front of a row of short, quaint buildings, carrying Kistle down after he slid off. The easy way in which he handled her bodily weight had Kistle reeling for a moment, before she cleared her head and followed him into one of the compartments.

It was dark inside, and the narrow hallway did not even boast a window to let the moonlight through. Only Rade's hand in hers kept her from tripping on her own feet.

"Stairs," he whispered to her, and she followed him dumbly, feeling her way up the stairs.

The sound of a creaking door drifted toward her, and Kistle frowned in confusion.

"What are you-," she started again, but Rade shushed her, releasing her hand and moving away. She'd just opened her mouth to call him back when the grating sound of a match being lit filled the room, and a warm glow of light breached the darkness. Kistle's face focused only on the man who held the candle, his features bereft of any guilt or treachery. He couldn't have had a secret liaison with that woman, Kistle knew immediately. Why had she even thought so?

He set the candle in the middle of the room, and led her to a dark corner, wrapping his arms around her waist as he did. She did not resist, but melted back into his warmth.

She had just tilted her head up to him, to ask him what he was about when she first caught sight of the wallpaper in the room. The gasp that tore from her throat was an indication of her awe... for it was beautiful – the white background dotted with red roses and golden shrubs. It was more stunning than anything she had ever seen.

Then she looked to the right, and saw a matching cupboard, flushed with white paint. A little further right revealed a work-table. Everything clicked, but nothing seemed to make sense.

"I – but – no, what has any of these things have to do with the question I put to you?" she asked, trying to turn around in his arms, but he would not let her.

"Do you not like it?"

"Of course I do. I love this, but I don't understand..."

"Melite designed this room."

"Huh?"

She looked around blindly as Rade rested his chin on her forehead.

"Melite – the woman you saw me with. She designed this room. We were speaking of her payment when you walked past my study ever so discreetly."

Somehow, the sigh of relief did not arrive. Kistle was surprised, yet knew instantly, that she had not really suspected Rade of chasing another woman. But to not have confronted him about it would have been foolish. Deep down, she realized that she trusted Rade too much to believe such a betrayal of him – Rade had gone through too much trouble to win her affections. Surely he would not risk its withdrawal.