Chapter 5: Vulnerable

Carak's inner eyelids shut, reopening slowly in their strange way. "My master truly cares for you. You can trust him."

"I know. I'm just not ready to open myself up to him yet. He took me away from Sirix and Donil. What was that look for?" She hadn't expected that flash of -- was it hatred or disgust on his face? Or something else entirely?

"Nothing," Carak said, evasively.

"It's not nothing."

"It's not something I'm comfortable discussing. If you order me to, I'll tell you, but I'd rather not talk about it, your highness."

"I won't order you to. When... If you're ever ready to tell me, I'll listen."

"Of course."

Lindsay nudged herself closer to Carak. "Why don't you read me another story?"

"As you wish. Long ago, before the two moons hung in the sky of Okeshi, the Immortal decided to create the world and all the creatures in it..."

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Rivuk sat before his desk and pulled up a screen. Had she published the full interview? With a flick of his gloved hand, he skipped to the final portion.

"I never viewed it as being rescued, the Bonat are my people and I will always have a special place for them in my heart, but I am happy to be with my husband."

"Yes, I am eternally grateful to the Bonat for taking such good care of my wife. If it wasn't for their kindness and generosity, we'd have never met."

She'd left it in! A quick press of a holographic button and he saw hundreds of responses, most favorable. He smiled as he raised his eyes to the window that sat in front of his desk, overlooking the canyon, as the bright lights of the city at night shone below. There were so many of them. Far in the distance, he saw flashes of purple light, a storm on the western plateau.

He heard a click from his wristband. A message from Carak. He sighed.

Again.

Even with the plan going so well, even with that moment they'd shared in the reservoir - he was rarely so disarmed as he was in that moment! He felt her yearning, and his own. And yet, she was miserable.

This couldn't go on! She'd tear herself apart with her loyalty! It wouldn't be much longer before the public began noticing the cracks in her demeanor. Everything depended on her being believable. If they saw how desperately unhappy she was, they'd turn against her.

This couldn't wait another day. He had to do something to help her. He strode around the desk, standing in front of the large, dark pane of glass with his hands behind his back, looking out at the brightly lit pyramids. It was a long way and terribly risky, but he had to do it. If it might save her, allow her to live, he had to try.

* * *

He flew through the night to the place he knew well from his maps, the southwest camp.

"Sleep." he said with a wave of his hand from his perch in a tree above a large, circular tent.

The guards fell to the ground in a deep slumber. He descended on silent wings and opened the tent flap, stepping inside.

The single room had a distinctly animal smell of dirt and leather hides. The floors were covered in skins and rugs made of braided brown, blue, grey, and green rags twisted together. Spears, harpoons, and axes lined the walls. At the center was a large heptagonal table divided into seven equal sections with a hole in the middle where they met.

At the furthest edge was his own travel bed, stolen in the Northern Battle. It looked like it hadn't been slept in for a while. At the side and foot of the bed were two cots that appeared recently used. A toilet sat near them in the open space.

At the other end of the tent, he saw the man he was looking for sitting at a large desk covered in papers, books, and various junk, the bookshelves behind him equally full and cluttered. Golden orbs were piled against the side of the desk. Eggs. A hundred of them, at least. An army of Bonat yet to be born. Or the first generation of Bonat to live in peace in seventy-one lanc. It all depended on this meeting.

The white-haired man didn't even look up from his writing. "I wasn't expecting you back so early, Donil. How is Veralosa's sheerlac wound?"

"I wouldn't know," Rivuk replied.

Sirix's head snapped up revealing his craggy blue face striped with familiar scars. His thick white brows creased over narrowed eyes. "Prince Rivuk. Should I assume my guards are dead?"

"Just sleeping, for the moment. There's no need for blood to be shed tonight."

"And if there is, it'll be mine, right?"

"I'd prefer it not come to that." There was no point in pretense, the Bona Serat Corsar knew as well as he did how a fight would end.

"How are you enjoying my wife?" Sirix growled.

Rivuk tossed down a holo-tab. Sirix picked it up and watched the electromagnetically distorted picture. The voices were barely intelligible in the interference from the forest, even on a device as good as this one, but the words could just be made out.

"It must have been quite the welcome change to leave the forest for our city."

"Your city is beautiful, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't sometimes miss my tent."

"But you are glad Prince Rivuk rescued you?"

"I never viewed it as being rescued, the Bonat are my people and I will always have a special place for them in my heart,"

"She has done more for your cause than I could have in a hundred lanc, but no, we haven't been together. She suffers greatly for your sake. She's tearing herself apart over her feelings for you and I," Rivuk said, solemnly.

"...but I am happy to be with my husband." the recording continued.

"Yes, I am eternally grateful to the Bonat for taking such good care of my wife. If it wasn't for their kindness and generosity, we'd have never met."

Sirix put the holo-tab down. "It's very bold of you to come into my tent and profess my wife has feelings for you."

"You know she does. You can see it as clearly as I can. I beg you, ease her mind so she can do her work."

"And have sex with you." Hatred glowed in Sirix's gold-rimmed indigo irises as he spoke.

"If she wants to."

Sirix began writing something. Rivuk waited patiently for him to speak again.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sirix looked up and said, "Nobillo, I can see your feelings for my wife are real. You wouldn't have come all this way if they weren't. But I can't help you. I gave her my blessing long ago to seek more partners if she wanted, including you. The problem doesn't lie with me."

Rivuk was taken aback. She'd been free to be with him all this time? And yet she was choosing to wreck herself rather than follow her desires? "Then where does it lie?"

"If I know Indsayee, it's because you forced her to go with you. She'll never be yours if she feels like she's your prisoner."

He hadn't even considered it, and he felt quite foolish for not realizing sooner. She was so spirited, so rebellious, it was hard to think of her as a captive. There was none of that meekness or fear about her. But that didn't change the truth of the matter. He'd taken her from her loved ones against her will and was keeping her there under constant surveillance so she couldn't escape. "What do you think I should do?" he asked the Bona Serat Corsar. It felt so strange, he, a Prince of the Nobillo asking advice from the spiritual leader of the Bonat.

A moment that was not lost on the Bonat by his expression. "Give her the choice to come back." Sirix answered simply.

Rivuk's mind went black at the words; his heart sank within him. "I don't want to lose her."

"It doesn't sound like you have a choice."

The Nobillo prince's breath caught, releasing jaggedly through his lips. The Bona Serat Corsar was right. She'd languish and die like a wild duktuk in a cage if he kept her prisoner. But, if he gave her the choice, she'd never choose him. She'd be gone. Likely forever.

He'd be able to hide her disappearance. Few princesses, pampered, spoiled things that they were, ever left their apartments. It could be a lanc before his family even realized she was gone. A miscarriage would easily cover the change. His job would be harder, of course, but the seeds were sewn. Careful cultivation could still yield the same results.

But he'd be without her. It felt like his insides were tearing in two. Still, she'd be alive and happier. She'd smile again without the hint of pretense, even if he didn't bask in the glow of those smiles. "If that's what it takes, I'll do it. I'll figure out a way to bring her back to you."

Sirix sighed and rolled up the parchment he was writing on, handing it to Rivuk. "No, you won't. She'll never leave knowing she has my blessing to stay. Not until she's completed her part in the plan."

"Why are you doing this?" Rivuk said, staring at the little scroll in his hand in disbelief.

"Because I love my wife, and I want her to be happy. She doesn't deserve a life in a warzone where most of her friends won't see their twentieth lanc. Take care of her, and bring her back to me and Donil."

Rivuk couldn't promise that. He wouldn't. He'd never stop her from going, but there was no conceivable possibility that he would bring her back to them if she chose to stay. She was his wife! To part with her by his own choice was unimaginable. "Thank you." he said with a short bow.

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Lindsay awoke with the dawn, stretching her arms in her large bed before falling back over. It was so soft! She hugged her pillow so tightly it folded in two.

Carak would be up, starting breakfast as usual. Rivuk would come by soon like he always did. She should get up.

Five more minutes.

She'd stayed up too late listening to Carak read. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't even remember going to bed. She must've fallen asleep on the couch and he'd carried her up. Over two hundred steps on his bad leg! He didn't have to; the couch was fine for her. She'd spent almost a year sleeping on a cot! Even the floor was softer than that! But she wouldn't say that and make him feel like she wasn't grateful.

Hopefully, he could start her reading lessons this evening. That was, if she wasn't too worn out from whatever Rivuk had planned for the day. Probably a dozen meetings and appearances before lunch.

She heard the sound of wings on the balcony. Time to get up. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair with its natural auburn highlights, shaking through it to rid it of the worst of whatever bedhead she probably had.

"Lindsay," Rivuk called.

"I'll meet you downstairs in a minute," she shouted back.

"I don't have time today; I've been called to the far villages. This morning they reported torrential rains in the Western plateaus. We'll be evacuating the area and assessing the damage for the next few days, but I wanted to see you before I go."

"Oh." She felt a bit disappointed. She'd come to enjoy their mornings together and the rare unguarded flashes the prince would give of his real self. "Ok, just a minute. I'll be right up."

She didn't bother with a cloak, scampering up the stairs to the balcony in her little backless nightie, enjoying the slight chill of the morning air on her skin and the freedom of her long legs. "Good morning, Rivuk," she said as she stood in front of him, the breeze rustling the bottom of her nightie so that it undulated in small waves just below her bottom.

He was staring. Good. She could practically feel his eyes traveling from her breasts to her hips to her breasts again and then tearing themselves away to her face.

He sighed. Twice. "Lindsay Weaver, we need to talk."

Whatever it was must be serious for him to use her full name.

"About what?" She noticed the heavy shadows below his eyes, the lines along the side of his mouth that only appeared after a long day. "Rivuk, you look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?""

"No. There was someone I needed to speak with."

"It must've been really important for you to be up all night."

"It was. It was about you."

She was surprised. "Me?"

Rivuk looked like he'd aged ten years in two minutes. "And our situation."

"And what situation is that?"

"You know the situation I mean. The one where you cry yourself to sleep every night. The one where you tear yourself apart because you have feelings for me."

"That's really arrogant of you to say."

"Is it wrong?"

Lindsay looked down at her wiggling toes, painted a bright shade of pastel yellow. "No."

"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to feel that you're my captive. And if that means you leave me and go back to the Bonat, then so be it."

"But what about the plan?"

"Let me worry about that. I'll manage. What good is the plan if it destroys you?"

A smile broke over her face, her eyes shined as they hadn't since she arrived. Her heart soared. Donil! Sirix! "So, you're going to take me back?"

"I'm giving you the choice. You can choose to stay here with me, or you can go back."

"I want to go back," she said immediately.

Rivuk winced. "That was quicker than I expected."

She placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I care for you a lot, Rivuk. You've been so kind to me. But they're my family." She leaned in and touched her brow to his.

And then her lips.

Then again and again as their mouths sought each other.

"Mmm... Rivuk... we shouldn't..." her mind tried to object as her arms wrapped around his neck. She felt his strong arms holding her to him. She couldn't stop kissing him. Every kiss she'd been keeping in came out in a flood. "Rivuk..."

"Lindsay..." he said, his voice husky.

Her head swam with the word. She felt like she was on the edge of fainting. Her fingers tangled themselves in his black hair as her body pressed into his. She felt the crinkling of paper between them. He seemed to as well. He drew back, pulling a rolled-up piece of parchment from his uniform.

"I have to leave. If you still want to go when I return in a few days, I will take you, myself." He held out the paper. "This is for you, from my meeting last night."

"What is it?"

"A gift."

"Can't you stay and read it to me?"

He brushed her hair back with his fingers. "No. You'll have to read it yourself." He fell backwards from the balcony into a dive he pulled up from at the last second.

"I can't read Nobillo!" she shouted after him. "I'll have to ask Carak to read it to me after breakfast," she grumbled as she unrolled the parchment and gasped as she read the first word:

Indsayee