Page 8

Story: Pawn

The sounds of the village coming alive filtered through the tent walls—the braying of jebels, the clatter of cooking pots, voices raised in morning greetings. She needed to leave before the oasis fully woke, before she had to face knowing looks or, worse, Zexx's indifference.

Her gauzy dress lay in a heap where he'd tossed it. She slipped it on, the fabric clinging to her skin in a way that made her think of his hands. No. She wouldn't think of his hands, or his mouth, or the way he'd growled her name as if it was a prayer.

"Get it together," she muttered as she finger-combed her tangled hair. What would her advisors think if they could see their composed chancellor now, sneaking away from a barbarian's bed like a common pleasure house girl?

Not that it had felt common. Nothing about last night had been ordinary, from the way he'd touched her to the strange connection she'd felt, as if their minds had brushed against each other in the same way their bodies had.

She shook off the fanciful thought. The wine and the darkness had obviously gone to her head. Cresteks didn't have the empathic abilities of the Dothveks. Whatever she'd felt had been purely physical—intense and incredible, but nothing more.

Linnea retrieved her cloak from where she'd discarded it the night before, wrapping the heavy fabric around herself like armor. The familiar weight settled on her shoulders, along with the mantle of her position. She was chancellor first, woman second. It was time to remember that.

She peeked from the tent. The village center was mercifully empty, though cooking fires were already burning. The scent of fresh bread made her stomach growl, but she ignored it. Better to go hungry than risk running into anyone who might delay her departure.

Especially him.

The sand was cool beneath her feet as she made her way toward the edge of the oasis where Corvak’s ship would be waiting. The morning air carried the sweetness of night-blooming flowers mixed with woodsmoke, and the palm fronds overhead cast dappled shadows across her path.

It was tempting to stay, to throw aside responsibility to see where this thing with Zexx might lead. But she knew exactly where it would lead—to scandal, to whispers, to the undermining of everything she hoped to accomplish as chancellor.

She'd worked too hard to earn her people's trust to throw it away on a romance with a Dothvek warrior, no matter how much her body begged her.

"Going somewhere?"

Linnea froze at the sound of Maya's voice. She turned to find her new sister-in-law leaning against a tree, looking far too knowing for comfort.

"I need to return to the city." Linnea kept her voice steady, controlled. "There are matters requiring my attention."

"I'm sure there are." Maya's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though I doubt any of them are as interesting as what—or who—required your attention last night."

Heat crawled up Linnea's neck. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sound travels easily in the village," Maya reminded her.

Linnea’s cheeks flamed. She’d known that they would be heard, but in the moment she hadn’t cared. Now she did. “It was nothing.”

Maya bobbled her head. “Didn’t sound like nothing.” Her smile softened. “Believe me, I get it. It’s scary to realize you might have been wrong about what you want, about what your life should be.”

Linnea knew that it hadn’t been an easy path for the human to take a Crestek mate who then pledged himself to the Dothveks.

"I'm not scared." Linnea lifted her chin. "I'm being practical. A chancellor cannot afford to be ruled by her heart."

"Maybe that's exactly what your people need—a leader who knows how to balance duty with heart.” Maya stepped closer. "Don't let fear of what others might think stop you from finding happiness."

"Happiness?" Linnea laughed, though it came out bitter. "One night of pleasure isn't happiness. It's a complication I can't afford."

"If you really believe that, why are you running away before he wakes?"

"I'm not running. I'm returning to my duties." But even as she said it, Linnea knew she was lying to herself as much as to Maya.

"At least say goodbye to your brother."

Linnea shook her head as she leaned in to give the woman a quick hug. "Better if I simply go. Give him my love?"

Maya sighed. "He won't be happy you left without a word. Neither will Zexx."

So, Maya had guessed who had been in her tent, which meant others would as well. She suppressed a groan, but her decision was only strengthened.

"Zexx will understand. He has his duties, I have mine." She squared her shoulders. "Last night changed nothing."