Clans of Luteri Ch. 07-09

Hey, Everyone.

I'm sorry these are late. I've put three chapters here, which should make it up to you, I hope. I honestly thought that interest in the story had died at Chapter 6. I waited until evening and it still was a 4.22 stat. I don't pay attention to stats anymore because they're manipulated, but it only had one comment, which seemed to fit the definition of beating a dead horse, so I pulled the chapters I had posted and resigned myself to putting the novels in the round file. I admit I was sad. You do get attached to your creations.

Then in the morning, people had commented and I put my head in my hands and started to write this note.

I learned to write fiction novels on Lit. The first Vanata book was my second attempt at a fiction novel. My genre was academic non-fiction before that. You know. The stuff nobody wants to read ever.

I'm not developing or looking to revise this story. The whole work is actually two novels, the second set in Luteri. To the person who asked awhile ago why Jaime did not allow Emma to be at the dinner with the Mistrals: Jaime at that point believes that Emma is going to stay and be a domestic servant, which would be odd if the Mistrals visited again.

To the person who said I like to torture readers. I do, I admit it. But you all torment me in return, so I figure the relationship is working.

To the stranger on the internet who said please don't make Kane a simp like Shep. Kane is definitely my simpiest, the genre being romantic, but evidently my male characters are all controlling bastards anyway. Send me an mail, maybe. Thanks for the comment, lol. What can you do.

Cheers. Sorry again for the delay posting these.

-Harp

*

Clans of Luteri

Chapter Seven

Kane walked up the stairs slowly to the Corsaire's room. He wasn't sure going to Jaime and agreeing to this Alverian ceremony had not been a mistake. Jaime had insisted she be given her own room, saying in Alveria women and men didn't have relations before marriage.

It was ridiculous, and Kane wasn't sure he believed it. How did they know if they were compatible at all?

It seemed reckless, or calculating, cold. No wonder Alverians strayed so consistently from their oaths.

And this courtship. They had six weeks before the ship that would return them to Luteri, and in this time he was to persuade the Corsaire he was fitting for her. And he was to accomplish this without touching her, because that was what she would expect, having been raised Alverian.

He felt like one of the ancient heroes. It was an impossible task.

He didn't know what he would do if she refused him. She was his oath. He certainly couldn't leave her here alone.

He looked down at his hand. Jaime had said he should bring her gifts. He had given her clothing, which she seemed entirely overwhelmed by, if not dismayed, although she had thanked him politely. Learning about it, Jaime had said that wasn't quite what he had meant and directed him to a more appropriate choice.

Kane paused at the door and then knocked lightly.

#

Emma sat on the bed looking down at her hands. Lord Tavishi—Kane—had spoken with her a week ago and told her he knew her identity, that her name was Aslin, that she was the daughter of the High Lord of Corsaire clan in Luteri, that her father was there and alive, although he believed her mother was dead, and that she was to have her own room.

After what happened when he had done sex with her, he had become stiff, formal. Polite. Maybe he didn't like sex with her. He didn't say anything about it at all, as if it hadn't happened.

But since that morning, he had spent all his time with her. He had arrived at her door the day she moved to her room and asked her to accompany him on a ride. She had assumed he was going to do sex with her again. She had been tense all day, but he had been pleasant, if a little forced, and he had avoided touching her. He hadn't kissed her, and he certainly hadn't taken her to the little grove, it was in an entirely different direction.

She put her hair behind her ear. Even Lord Shetlan, always kind, had seemed strange with her, as if he were uncomfortable, unsure how to treat her. Did he know she and Kane had done sex? She felt her cheeks flush at the thought.

And then when she returned from the ride with Lord Tavishi—Kane—a tailor had arrived and taken her measurements and Lord Tavishi—Kane, she must remember to call him that, he had been clear it was important to him—had said she was to have clothing and he would like her to return with him on the ship to Luteri instead of staying here to work as a servant for Lord Shetlan until Corsaire clan came to retrieve her.

A light knock came at the door.

Emma stood, smoothing her dress. It was new, a gift from Lord—Kane, who had the tailor make several dresses for her. This was an evening dress, and he'd asked her to wear it, although it was only afternoon. The dress was fine, a deep dark blue crepe with lace, the prettiest she could imagine, an Alverian lady's dress with stiff undergarments that raised and showed the tops of her breasts, and she felt entirely uncomfortable in it.

Wearing the dress had necessitated a maid to help her to get into the stays. The young woman Lord Shetlan had sent to her room had not been unkind, but by her manner it was clear she didn't think Emma should be wearing it. The girl had arranged her hair up, tendrils falling around her neck.

Kane was standing there when she opened the door, looking at something in his hands. To her surprise, he was dressed as an Alverian lord, looking strange and different. Still so big, still broad shoulders, big arms, still untamed with that wavy hair between blonde and brown, streaks that lit in the sun, still graceful and dangerous.

He looked up, meeting her eyes. They were always intense, a hazel color that shifted in the light, gold or green, flecks in their depths. His eyes slowly traveled down her and back up. She drew a breath, looking down. He was so sure of himself.

"That's for you," he said, his eyes settling on her chest where the dress showed her breasts before returning to her face, and she realized he was holding something out.

She reached out and took it, a small box. She didn't understand why he kept giving her things.

"Thank you for the clothing, Lord Tavishi—Kane," she said. "You have already given me so much—."

"Open it."

He came closer as she began to undo the ribbon of the box, very close, smelling like outdoors, like the most pleasant spice. Her hands began to shake. She opened the box quickly and looked down at the contents for a long moment, her heart pounding.

"Do you not like it, Aslin?" he asked her.

"I cannot accept this, Lord Tavishi," she said, trying to hand the box to him.

"Kane. Why not?"

"It's far too expensive, Kane, it's not right for me, it is for a...I am a—," she began. Was he going to make her say it? His nearness was so distracting. "It's not a thing I can accept."

"Jaime says it is appropriate for me to give you jewelry," he said.

He took the box, to her relief, but he only raised the locket out of it and reached to put it on her. She shivered a little at the touch of his fingers on the side of her neck, a sensitive place, the necklace cold, and he met her eyes again. She looked down at the piece that settled between her breasts, a deep midnight blue stone that matched the color of the dress, a large sapphire surrounded by a ring of small diamonds. She looked up. His eyes were on it.

"I had it made in the city. It is a Luterian Sapphire from Duellan clan. The trinket looks very pretty on you, Corsaire," he said, his voice husky.

"Thank you," she said, having no choice—as usual—touching it with her hand, still thinking about what he'd said. "Why does Lord Shetlan say it is appropriate for you to give me jewelry?"

Lord Tavishi gestured as if it was obvious.

"To court you."

She felt the blush begin in her cheeks and extend all the way down her neck, her shoulders, burning hot.

"C-court me?" she choked.

He nodded.

"For marriage," he said, as if this needed clarification.

"You want to marry me? Why?"

He looked uncomfortable.

"You are beautiful. We are compatible," he said, gesturing.

She reached behind her neck for the clasp.

"Lord Tavishi, I'm flattered, I am, but this—," she began.

He reached and stopped her hands, bringing them down, holding them. He looked very serious, his eyes searching her face.

"Do you not like me at all, Aslin?" he asked her.

She stared at him. She blushed hotter, if that were possible. She was entirely undone.

"You are...of course you are very...you are handsome, and—," she said faintly, unable to continue.

"Then we will have to start there," he said grimly, putting his hand on the small of her back and drawing her into the hall, closing the door behind her. "I am taking you somewhere. I have arranged a carriage."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

She followed him down the stairs, her mind racing. Marry her? Lord Shetlan met them at the bottom of the stairs. When they reached him, he stepped forward and took her hand, bowing over it.

"Lady. You look very beautiful."

When he straightened, he smiled at her. She couldn't help but smile back a little.

"You're very kind, Lord Shetlan, but it's not necessary—."

"I'm afraid you will have to get used to it, Lady. May I call you Aslin?"

"Yes, Lord Shetlan, of course, but—."

"Then you must call me Jaime."

She pulled her hand out of his, swallowing.

"I could not, Lord Shetlan."

Lord Shetlan's face became stern. She glanced at Lord Tavishi, who was watching, expressionless.

"You are a lady of the Luterians, born of the Corsaire," Lord Shetlan said. "It would be an insult to all Luterians for me not to treat you as such, or for you to deny your bloodline."

She looked between them, dismayed, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry, I intended no offense, Jaime," she said to Lord Shetlan, forcing his name out, beginning to breathe fast, turning to Lord Tavishi. She curtseyed to the Luterian lord. "Lord...Kane, I am not...it is not something I am used to, I meant no insult, truly."

She backed away a step, her eyes darting to the stairs. Lord Tavishi immediately stepped forward, capturing her hand, pulling her toward him.

"Don't try it," he said. "Come, we'll be late."

He was pulling her along and she looked back at Lord Shetlan, who raised his hand and smiled at her. Then Lord Tavishi opened the door to the carriage and handed her in. She sat, putting her hands on her lap as he got in, sitting across from her.

"You have not been to the city," he observed.

"Versace? No, lord," she said, turning her head to see the mansion as they pulled away. "In my life I have been to the orphanage, the estate where you found me, and where we just left."

"Kane."

Versace. The capital. He was taking her there. She began to breathe fast again. She couldn't just allow this to happen. She had to make him understand.

"Kane," she said reasonably as he gave her his attention. She smiled at him briefly, polite. "Please let me explain why I think this is not a good idea. I am afraid that if you bring me somewhere and try to pass me

off as something that I'm not, I won't know how to speak to others or how to behave in a way that wouldn't be an embarrassment to you. You can put me in this dress, but that doesn't make me a lady. Not even the maidservant who helped me to put it on believes it. Regardless of my...bloodline, as you say, I am not trained for polite society. It's not my upbringing."

"What did she say to you?" he said aggressively.

"Who?"

"The servant."

"She didn't have to. You cannot make me into something I'm not, not in other peoples' eyes. She knows that I have been a...that I am a—."

"Do not say that word," he said darkly.

"Not saying it changes nothing!" she snapped, feeling her cheeks flush with anger now.

She looked out the window, her hands clenching on her lap.

"I have been to Versace many times," he said. "I assure you, you will not be out of place there."

She unclenched her hands, taking a deep breath. She had been rude.

"I apologize for my outburst, Kane," she said after a moment, stiffly. "Miss Stram always used to say I had a temper. She used to switch me regularly for it when I was a child."

"Switch you?" he said ominously.

She turned and eyed him.

"Do they not switch children in Luteri when they misbehave?"

His jaw was clenching.

"No, we do not beat our clan's children in Luteri. What is this switch?"

"A flexible branch of birch that is smoothed."

"Where did she strike you?"

She made a small noise, incredulous, looking out the window again.

"Does it matter?"

"Tell me."

She turned toward him, all her good intentions falling away as they always did with him, he so annoyed her sometimes. She felt herself flushing again.

"Very well. When I misbehaved, Miss Stram would bring me to her desk, where I would be made to bend over. She would lift my skirts and strike my bottom with the switch, the number of times varying with the offense. Slouching was three. If I laughed too loudly, if I showed my temper, if I was improper, if I ran in the house, it was five. Once, when I dropped a plate and it broke, it was ten, and I had difficulty sitting down for days."

"That is perverted," he said shortly. "Jaime never told me about this practice."

Her brows rose.

"He probably didn't think to do so. Were you not disciplined, Lord? I cannot imagine that you were entirely content to do what you were told."

"Kane," he reminded her. "No, I was a terror to my parents. In Luteri, a younger child is distracted or ignored when it misbehaves. An older child is given tasks to perform to instill discipline, usually as close to the offense as possible."

His mouth quirked and he glanced at her.

"If, for example," he continued, "I were eleven years old and snuck into the stables and stole a horse and rode it three days to Minsk to try to stow away on a ship because I believed I had been abused by being made to stay in my rooms for my lessons, my father would retrieve me and I would be set to an extra hour of lessons every day and mucking the stables for three months."

The image of Lord Tavishi as a sullen long-haired boy made to muck the stables rose in her mind. She tried not to smile, looking down.

"Did you really do that?" she asked her hands, unable to stop her grin.

"Oh, yes."

"I'm sure you were very willful, Kane," she said.

His face dipped to see her expression.

"I was an arrogant ass," he said.

She couldn't help it. She looked up and grinned at him, resisting the obvious retort.

"You have a beautiful smile," he said.

She looked out the window again, but the smile stayed.

#

The dress was stunning on her, Kane's eyes repeatedly drawn to the locket, although his interest was entirely for the setting. He was not the only one to notice, and when they arrived in Versace everywhere they went Alverians noticed her.

"They are staring at me," she said under her breath, looking around nervously as they entered the concert hall.

"They are staring at me," Kane replied, only partially true. "A Luterian is a novelty to them."

"How do they know you are Luterian?" she asked.

"My overwhelming charm," he quipped, gesturing to the weapon he wore.

Her eyes lit with humor.

"Of course. I am so used to your overwhelming charm I forget it is unusual," she returned, and he laughed. "Why do Luterians wear a weapon? Is it just for display?"

"Hardly," he answered, taking her hand and putting it on his arm as they walked across the space full of people dressed in finery. "The weapon is worn by the clan warriors because we are protectors."

She smiled at him, walking closer, her scent drifting up. The small dark hairs at the nape of her neck drew his gaze when she turned to look at the graceful marble double stairs leading to the balcony. She had been sensitive there when he put on the necklace, very. They made their slow way across the marble floor, drawing more attention.

"I have only ever read about places like this," she said.

"I will take you to Thaline. It is the capital city of Luteri where we have our festivals and all the clans come to celebrate. Thaline Castle is hewn out of the mountain itself, practically in the clouds, thousands of years old, lit with great torches. You can stand on the high balconies and watch the butterflies swarm and fly in a great wave of color in autumn."

She was looking at his face.

"Do you miss Luteri when you are away?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I miss my sister and father and the members of my clan, and the dramatic beauty of the countryside, the changing leaves and the smell of fires in the winter."

He was entirely enjoying her company, enjoying her beauty, and once she relaxed she was breathtaking, everyone drinking her in. Her dark eyes were full of life, alert to everything around her, curious, her step light. They approached a huge room ahead, with many Alverian lords and ladies mingling and visiting each others' tables, very formal, strict Alverian protocol. She looked away, nervous.

"We have a choice," he said, stopping them. "It's customary to eat before the concert in the dining room. In the past, I have chosen, instead, to ask for food from the kitchens and take it to the lake on the grounds. It has a walking path and small benches. We would have to serve ourselves, but it is more private."

She turned to him.

"Thank you, Kane. I would like that very much."

Kane stopped a waiter, making his request. The waiter realized what he was, who he was, seeing the sword, freezing, but he was efficient and fast. Soon they were walking down the path to the lake.

As they talked, Kane was thinking what a strange mixture she was. She was so very proper, being raised Alverian, it went with that straight bearing, and she did care about manners. But the life in her, the temper and spark, whatever flushed her cheeks and made her eyes flash, her humor and intelligence, her passion, were Luterian. Corsaire, if he cared to admit it. Their clan's women were like this.

"Did Jaime say he believed them?" she said, laughing at his story.

"He had to," Kane said, grinning. "Or they would have proved it another way."

She had a loud, free laugh that she muted, her hand over her mouth. She was still laughing when they found a bench and he took out the food, sharing it between them. There was fruit at the end, and he watched her put a slice of stone fruit between her lips, biting, catching the juice, smiling up at him. She swallowed and took the napkin, wiping her hands. He leaned forward and kissed her.

She stiffened. He drew back slowly, their faces close. She tasted of the fruit, of her. She stared at him, and then looked down. He withdrew, sighing, raking his hand through his hair. It would be better if he were honest.

"I am attracted to you, Aslin, and I am not Alverian. I know that's how you were raised, and that women and men here do not kiss or...other things while courting. I don't know another way to express my desire. Jaime says it is with gifts and flattery, but it's not natural to me."

She glanced up.

"It's different in Luteri?"

"If we were in Luteri, I would have demonstrated exactly what I feel for you and learned your response," he said. "People do come together just for pleasure, but usually we tend toward a more permanent pairing eventually."

He already had indicated his feelings for her, though she hadn't understood what he meant by it, he realized that now. He thought about his hand under her skirts in the grove, her breasts, the sounds she made when she climaxed. His eyes dropping to her mouth.