Oleander

XXI. Valerian (part one)

For all of Gallus's fury that she'd escaped his watchful shadow during their trip to the slums, he did not mention the event to Andar. Nor had he met her eye when he recounted the details of their day. His omission, an unexpected thing, sparked the thought that perhaps she'd been too hasty in weighing his obedience to his king. Stranger, still, was that Andar did not notice the slight falter in his voice, the uncomfortable lie that echoed in the wake of his report.

Though he bore no sign of it, Andar was restless. And, if Yalira had to guess, troubled. In appearance, his brow was not furrowed, his lips in gentle bow. But in that night and the nights after, his hours with Yalira were mixed with passion and doubt. He pushed to own each inch of her flesh and, when their breaths grew deep and slow in sleep, pulled her closer to him. It was in those moments of dreams, where his arms would tighten around her, that Andar fought in unseen battles. His muscles twitched against invisible foes. Memories of skirmishes long past or of those future-feared, there was no telling.

Yalira mentioned the nightmares only once. Quietly, with the offer of lupulus unspoken on her tongue, she'd immediately retreated at the fierceness in his golden eyes, the wordless of his refusal. In stubbornness, she'd left a preparation of the bitter herb at his desk.

The days turned into weeks and the small vial, though untouched, did not move from the organized chaos of his workstation.

His reluctance to share those hidden struggles, however, had a deeper effect than interrupting Yalira's sleep. Trust, and the lack thereof, was as contagious as the purging illness that frequented her own dreams. Petty as it was, Yalira saw no reason to include Andar in her own secrets if he was determined to hide his from her. She did not mention the hooded woman, the missing treasonous note left in the pages of lost prophecies, or the implied threat against her possibly surviving priestesses.

Yalira worked through the intrigue without his interference. His approach would likely involve a component of bloodshed that she could not abide. No, she decided. It was more than that aversion to violence. She deserved to keep those secrets to herself. Surely, Andar could survive without owning every part of her.

Claim over my body is more than enough.

The wryness of her thoughts burned with Rishi's humor. Rishi being, perhaps, the only person perfectly content with her continued presence in Andar's rooms. If not for Gallus, Valen might have clawed her eyes out each morning over breakfast. Alleta, for all her charity, trembled with each meal Yalira approached from the king's chambers. Sasha, slowly improving in her symptoms, smiled at Dezma's whispered innuendos. Edyt and Xaisha were indifferent, or at least, that was the extent of their outward showing.

"It is as if he cannot have enough of you," Avalyn murmured over the woman's evening meal. Her voice had her usual far-away cadence; her breath smelled faintly of opium.

A table between queens and a few select women and wives of wealthier society. Andar and his advisors, his generals and lieutenants—save the constant and silent Gallus—feasted in the banquet hall, free of womanly interference. Said womanly interference was left to entertain themselves and, naturally, topic had again returned to Yalira's reputed bewitchment over Andar of Tyr.

"And you're certain there's no potion or herb to ensnare a lover so thoroughly?"

In an insistent crowd, the high-born women had taken to asking for brews and divine-intervention to capture their wayward husbands, diverted lovers, and romantic dreams. Fortunately for Yalira, Rishi had no patience for their simpering or suggestion.

"Surely you don't mean to encourage the attentions of your husband, Liora?"

Liora nu Hestion, young new wife of the council's accountant—a man known for his love of all things that would grow his treasury and his formidable waistline—did not blush. She met Rishi's smirk with a fierce smile of her own. "If my husband can spend his time chasing Olia's daughters, should I not also be allowed some pleasantness?"