Suffer? If you succeed, you will take from her the very thing she values above all.
He shut such enfeebling thoughts from his mind and followed Cynara into the house. He met Jesper as the old man turned a corner into the entrance hall.
“Well, my friend,” he said with generous good humor. “You missed dinner tonight. Quite disappointing. I trust that you enjoyed your tour of our city?”
“You see this in my mind?” Ronan asked bluntly.
He waved his hands. “No, no. I just put myself in your place. If I were a young man with so much yet to discover, I wouldn’t waste time puttering around an old man’s house. You must have been discreet, or I’d have heard of it by now.” He glanced toward the guest wing. “You’ve been to the D’Accorso palace.”
“Yes.”
“Fortunate that you didn’t run into Cynara’s parents. They can be difficult.” He paused. “Did she tell you how she became captain of the Pegasus?”
“Yes.”
‘Then you have been granted a rare privilege. I hope you value the gift of her trust.” Without waiting for Ronan’s answer, he changed the subject. “Cynara wishes to discuss your meeting with the Trade Council in the morning. If you’re hungry, I’ve had my cook set aside a portion in the kitchen.” He clapped Ronan’s shoulder. “Go to bed, my young friend. I’ll make sure you’re up in time for breakfast.”
Jesper strode down the hall to the second wing of the house, which Ronan had determined held the elder’s quarters and the room given to Cynara. Ronan returned to his own chamber, his feet heavy on the polished wood floor.
Va Jesper meant nothing but good for him, like Cynara. These were folk who wished to help and accepted him for what he was, free of suspicion and prejudice.
I must betray you in your own House, Aho’Va. Forgive me.
For a time, while Ronan chanted to nourish his resolve, the house echoed with the light steps of Jesper’s an’laik’i and the distant clatter of pottery in the kitchen. When all was still, Ronan knew he could wait no longer.
He entered the dark and deserted corridor. A few quick steps to the grand entry hall, and another turn. The family wing was lit by a single glowball held in an outstretched hand. Gentle light bathed Cynara’s features and softened every shadow.
She moved almost as quietly as he, wrapped in a thick robe belted at the waist. Ronan could smell damp flesh beneath. She paused when she saw him, lifting the light.
“Ronan?”
He did not answer. Her voice gave his name a thousand meanings, and every one of them shouted wanting. Her mind burned with it, as did his.
She took a step back, globe held high. He followed. At the end of the hall stood an open door. Cynara slipped inside.
There is no other way.
Ronan entered the room, and Cynara closed the door behind him. The dimly lit chamber was twice the size of Ronan’s and, like her cabin on the Pegasus, arrayed with many curious objects.
“The spoils of my travels,” Cynara said. She picked up a small animal carved of black rock and turned it over in her hands. “I try to pick up some memento of every world we visit.” She set down the sculpture and sat on the edge of a wide bed laid with a coverlet woven in tones of wood and earth. ‘This quilt is from Ys, one of the Concordat worlds. The hangings were created by the artisans of Serengeti. I have yet to collect a souvenir from a shaauri world.”
Ronan crouched at the foot of the bed. “I have little to offer you.”
“No?” She stroked the coverlet over and over with one hand, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. “Why are you here, Ronan?”
One question concealed many unspoken, but he chose a single answer. “I come for instruction.”
“In what?”
“In how to be human.”
Her eyes caught the light as she looked at him. “Are you worried about meeting the Council?”
“No. Only one thing concerns me.”
She continued to gaze at him, waiting. The scent of her flesh overwhelmed all others in the room. Her thoughts were barely within her control.