Chiana remained in her serene stage for two more days, and her servants began to relax. Blade remained vigilant, and spent a fair bit of time with her, studying her mood. When he was certain that she was not about to snap out of her introspection, he would return to his rooms. On the third day, he was forced to give another brief audience, but it ended without mishap. The lords brought only a few minor, urgent issues to his attention. He knew that they were waiting for Chiana to return to her office before they brought more serious matters for consideration, for which he was glad.
Afterwards, he made his way to Chiana's rooms, still clad in his court finery. He found her sitting listlessly on her cushions, a tray of pastries untouched beside her. Her maidens had returned to their embroidery, and Verdan dozed on a chair near the window, basking in the autumn sun's fading warmth. Insash was also in attendance, his nose buried in a tome. Blade frowned at their inattention, his gaze sharpening when he noticed that Chiana's eyes were focussed on her hands, which were clasped in her lap. He walked towards her, and she looked up at the sound of his footsteps.
The utter despair in her eyes warned him, and he quickened his strides. She rose in a fluid motion, causing the maidens to glance at her, their needles poised. Moving with determined speed, Chiana headed for the balcony doors.
"Chiana! No!" Blade broke into a run, cursing the size of the room and the distance that still separated them.
The maidens jumped up, throwing down their embroidery. Verdan woke with a snort, and Insash glanced up in confusion. The girls were too slow, and Chiana thrust open the balcony doors before Blade could reach her. She ran to the balustrade and flung herself over it, her arms outstretched like slender wings.
Blade lunged after her, grabbing her wrist as she sailed into space. The balustrade caught him across the hips, stopping his forward motion with a jolt. The force of her fall almost ripped her from his grip, and her weight jerked him partially over the balustrade, his feet leaving the floor as he teetered. For an instant he thought he would follow her down to the flagstones far below, and the world spun. Then many hands grabbed him from behind, pulling him back to safety, but his hand slipped on her wrist and pain shot through his arm and shoulder.
Chiana looked up at him, her eyes dark with sorrow. "Let me go."
"No."
"I do not want to live without her."
"You must." He grunted as the balustrade dug into his ribs.
"I cannot."
"I will not let you die."
"Why not?" Two tears ran down her cheeks. "You do not love me. You never will. What do I have to live for?"
"A lot." Blade groaned, his hand aching from the strain. He tried to reach her wrist with his other hand, but it was too far away. "Give me your other hand."
"No. I want to die. There is no reason to go on."
"There is. Damn it, Chiana, give me your hand!"
She flexed her wrist, weakening his hold. It slipped, and despair washed through him. If she died, he would be Regent for another ten years.
"Do not leave me, Chiana."
Her eyes filled with surprise and doubt. "You do not love me."
"You do not know that."
"You have told me many times."
"How do you know it was true?"
"How do I know you are not lying now?"
"You do not." Blade struggled to cling to her, sweat dewing his brow. "But I could be telling the truth."
Those behind him tried to pull him back, but her weight held him over the railing, and the angle of his arm made retreat impossible. They could not reach her, and her life depended solely upon his weakening hold on her wrist. Men ran about below, staring up at them, some pointing and exclaiming in horror.
"Then say it, Blade."
He gritted his teeth at the pain of the stone digging into his chest. "Take my hand, and I will."
"No. Say it now."
"I cannot hold on much longer."
"Then say it, before it is too late."
"Damn you." Blade grimaced, gasping as her weight bent him cruelly over the railing.
Chiana twisted her wrist, and his hand slipped. He was no longer certain that he could save her, even if she co-operated, yet still the words stuck in his throat. It was just another lie, a meaningless platitude to save her and free him from the onerous office of regent. He groaned, biting his lip as he tried to pull her up so he could reach her with his other hand, but his grip on her wrist was not strong enough to withstand the change of angle that it entailed. Blade gasped, gazing down at her, certain that at any moment he would be forced to watch her fall to the paving stones far below. This would have to be the most convincing lie he ever told, or she would ensure that she fell, he knew.
Blade met her sorrowful, despairing eyes, which begged for the one thing he could not give, and without which she would die.
"I love you, Chiana."
Her eyes closed, and she seemed to savour the words he knew she had never expected to hear. When she opened them again, fresh tears streamed from them, but a slight smile curved her mouth. Her hand closed around his wrist with surprising strength, gripping the dagger sheath strapped there, which provided excellent purchase.
Blade pulled her up, his arm trembling with the strain. She reached up with her other hand, taking his when he stretched it down to her. With both her hands in his grasp, he lifted her far enough for Insash to lean over and grab her arm, and between them they pulled her over the railing. As soon as she was on the balcony, Blade flopped down on his back and clasped his arm, which burnt and throbbed. Verdan fussed over Chiana, and between him and the maidens, they tugged her inside. Insash squatted beside the railing, studying the assassin with newfound respect.
"That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. You caught her in mid-air. And to be able to hold onto her like that..." The advisor shook his head. "Few men would have such strength."
Blade flexed his aching hand. "Assassins need strong hands. We sometimes use them to break men's necks."
Insash recoiled from Blade's harsh words, as he had intended. A rush of fresh bitterness filled him, a deep anger at being forced to utter the words he had vowed never to speak. Somehow their utterance had diminished him, robbing him of the cold aloofness he treasured so much, and he resented it. Insash held out a hand to help him up, but he ignored it and rose to his feet unaided. He entered the room and headed for the door, longing for the solitude of his rooms.
"Blade, wait."
The assassin turned, his hard eyes lashing the pale woman who sat on the bed, surrounded by her handmaidens. She made a curt gesture, which included Verdan and Insash.
"Leave us."
They filed out and closed the door. Chiana rose and approached him, her eyes gentle and sorrowful.
"I will live for you. So long as you never rescind those words, even if they were a lie. Inka is gone and can never return, now only you can fill my heart and bring me joy."
His resentment flared at her assumption. "How do you know that they were a lie?"
She smiled, stopping before him. "I do not. Why could you not let me die?"
"I do not want to be Regent."
"Ah. A good answer. And true, I would wager. But your words were not a lie, were they?"
He gazed at her, longing to deny them. "No."
Her smile widened, and raw adoration blazed in her eyes. She reached for his hands, but he clasped them behind his back.
"This changes nothing."
"It changes everything. I did not think I would know joy again until you spoke those words."
"I shall leave in the morning."
"No!" Her smile vanished, and she stepped closer, reaching up to grip the lapels of his jacket as if she intended to physically prevent him from leaving. "You cannot leave me now."
"You cannot stop me. I am going to kill Endor."
"No. I forbid it. Killing him will not bring Inka back, but he may take you from me also, and that I could not bear."
"I swore to avenge you."
She shook her head. "I am not dead."
"He killed a part of you, and, had I not been here to prevent it, you would have died too."
"But you are as good at saving lives as you are at taking them." She released him and walked over to the table to pour herself a cup of wine. "If he kills you, I shall have no reason to live."
"He will not kill me."
"Bolt and Lance failed, and are probably dead. Clearly he is well prepared and protected."
"That will do him no good. Lance was my apprentice, and a good assassin, but he was not me. He made a mistake. I will not."
She took a gulp of wine. "Because you are the legendary Queen's Blade, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"You are not invincible. You retired fifteen years ago, and should not have renounced it."
"I had to, there were Cotti princes who needed killing."
"And now you have killed them." Chiana returned to stand before him. "Have you not had your fill of death yet?"
"Long since, but my need for vengeance remains."
"Why do you feel the need to avenge my suffering?"
"You are my wife. The insults and torments he inflicted upon you are an insult to me, as he intended. That is why he did it."
Blade went to the table and poured himself a cup of wine, draining it in two gulps. "This is why assassins do not marry, and few have families even out of wedlock. Their womenfolk are vulnerable to vengeance seekers, or those who hate assassins. His death is my payment for hiding Kerra. I am going to kill that bastard, and nothing you can do or say will stop me."
She bowed her head, gazing down at the wine in her cup. "Then at least wait a few days. I am not yet ready to take up my office again."
He sighed. "Two days then, no more."
She raised her head and walked over to him. "And will you promise to return?"
"No."
"You must!" Chiana put down her cup, gazing at him. "Please do not disappear again. I need you with me now more than ever."
"I am not your pawn, to be commanded. I please myself, and I hate this place."
"I am not commanding you. I am begging you."
"No." He put down his cup and spun on his heel, heading for the door.
"If you do not return, I shall kill myself."
Blade turned in the doorway, his eyes chips of grey ice. "You are trying to blackmail me?"
"Do you care enough for it to work?"
Once again he longed to deny it, but could not. "I certainly resent it enough to make you regret it."
"I would never regret it, no matter how cruel or unpleasant you are."
Blade turned and walked out, closing the door. Chiana stared at it, her emotions a confused, conflicting melee. Grief sat like a cold stone in her heart, constant and heavy, making her eyes burn with unshed tears. Around it, like a gossamer veil, was the joy that Blade's words had brought, fragile and flickering, cushioning the awful pain of her loss and making her continued existence bearable. Mixed with them were strange new feelings of hatred and bitterness, a deep, burning loathing for the man who had slain her familiar, and a strange exultation at the prospect of his death at the hands of her husband.
In addition, there was a hot, passionate terror that he may fail, and suffer the same fate as Lance and Bolt, a prospect she could not bear to contemplate. She was not certain she would be able to carry on without him. Her love for him, and the precious words he had spoken to save her, were all she had to cling to now. They echoed in her mind, bringing a soft stab of joy each time. How often had she dreamt of hearing those words from him? A thousand, perhaps. Now she had a memory to cherish, one that was burnt into her mind forever.
Verdan glanced around as the doors to Chiana's suite opened. The assassin emerged, looking angry. Insash waited beside the healer, along with a bevy of servants laden with trays of food, which they took in to Chiana's room at a nod from Insash. Verdan stepped into Blade's path when he would have walked past them without pause.
"Will she be all right now?"
"Yes."
The healer sagged with relief. "Thank you, Lord Conash."
"There is no need to thank me for saving my own wife, Verdan. I did not do it for you."
"But we have great need of her, as Regent."
"As do I."
Blade stepped around Verdan and walked away, leaving the two men gazing after him.
"Strange man," Insash commented.
"Very," Verdan agreed. "But with all that he has been through, it is not surprising. He is, of course, deeply disturbed."
"Mad, you mean?"
"On the brink of it, I would say."
Insash's brows rose. "And this is the man you wanted to rule Jashimari?"
"He did it, and he saved the Regent. His kind of madness is not the sort that leads to rash acts. I only mean that he is capable of many things that you and I are not, yet he is incapable of a great many things that most men take for granted."
"Like love."
Verdan shook his head. "Oh no, I think he is capable of feeling that. He is just not able to show it."
The next day, Chiana sought out her husband, and found him sitting under a tree in the garden. He shot her an irritated look when she sank down on the grass before him, uncaring of her rich satin dress. She had made a special effort with her appearance, and her maids had spent time-glasses dressing her hair in a fetching pile of ringlets, curls and plaits sprinkled with jewelled pins. A little rouge brightened her cheeks and berry juice reddened her lips. Kohl, newly imported from Cotti, darkened her eyes.
Blade frowned when she wriggled closer to his outstretched legs and placed a hand on his knee. Her eyes roamed over his face, coming to rest on the pale pink scar that ran along his cheekbone. Shocked, she reached out and touched it without thinking. He did not recoil from her caress, but merely watched her with arctic eyes.
"How did you get this?"
"A fight."
"Tell me about it, please. I long to hear everything that happened to you in Cotti."
He tilted his head. "Why?"
"Because I was not there to share it with you, silly."
His eyes roamed over her face. "You look like a tart."
"There is not pleasing you, is there? When I dress drably, you say I am dowdy. When I try to look nice, you call me a tart."
"I did not call you a tart; I said you look like one."
"It is the same thing."
"No, it is not. That muck does not become you, Chiana."
She smiled. "Do you care what I look like?"
"Not particularly."
"Then why do you comment on it?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "Because you are doing it to try to please me, and it does not."
"I see. Then I shall wash it off. Now will you tell me what happened to you in Cotti?"
Blade's eyes flicked past her, and he stared into space as he related the tale in some detail. It was not merely the story that fascinated her, but the soft timbre of his voice and the fact that she was able to study him while he spoke without appearing to stare. The story ended with his arrival at the palace to find her in a coma, and himself the Regent.
"Was that when you realised what you felt for me?"
He looked at her. "No."
"When did you then?"
"I am not going to discuss my feelings with you. The subject is closed."
Her eyes stung, and she lowered them to his hands. "You cannot continue to be so cold towards me now that you have revealed your feelings."
"Watch me."
Two tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks, making him snort and frown. She murmured, "I thought you professed not to be a cruel man."
"I am not," he retorted. "It is you who torment yourself with dreams of what can never be."
"You do not know what I dream, but it is not the dreams that torment me, only your refusal to offer me even the smallest amount of comfort."
He rested his head against the tree. "I can never be what you want."
"You do not know what I want."
"I have a fair idea."
"Are you incapable of a kind word or a soft glance? Is it too much to ask for an occasional embrace, a few chaste kisses?"
"Yes."
"No." She brushed the tears from her cheeks and frowned at him. "It is not that you cannot, but that you will not."
"I cannot. Such things are alien to me now. I would not know how to do them, and I have no wish to learn."
Chiana leant closer and laid a hand on his chest. "Then at least let me. Do not push me away."
He glanced down at her hand. "I dislike such attentions."
"You fear them. You are afraid that the ice around your heart will melt, and I may actually touch it. Although you have admitted your feelings, your love is as frozen as your passions. Locked away from public view, for fear of finding scorn, or worse still, pity from others."
"I care nothing for what other people think."
"Do you care what I think?"
His mouth curved in a slight, grim smile. "I know what you want. You long to tame me. To touch that which has never been touched. To be held by hands that have only ever killed. To be the only one who is safe in my embrace. That is what draws you to me, like others before you. Be content with the words you forced me to speak yesterday. There, you have succeeded where all others have failed. I am not a man to be trifled with, and to ask for more will only end in disappointment."
"Because you are the legendary Queen's Blade, a man of ice. A cold-hearted killer, immune to gentleness and affection. Not so, Blade? You pride yourself on your aloofness, your invulnerability. You admit to loving me, yet you will not show it. There is no shame in it."
"You know nothing." He pushed her away and tried to rise, but she shoved him back, holding him to the tree.
"I know what it is to love you. I know the pain of your rejection and the joy of your love. I care nothing for what you are, or how many you have killed. It is who you are that draws me, not your prowess or your fame. I felt it the first time I set eyes upon you, and I did not know who or what you were then."
"It must have been a great disappointment to find that I am less than you had hoped."
She nodded. "It was, but it changed nothing. You are afraid I will ask for more than you can give, but that, I will never do."
"You do not know just how little I have to give."
"Then show me. It will be better than nothing."
A slight, cold smile quirked his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. Chiana held her breath as he raised his hands and cupped her face. She closed her eyes, savouring the caress. His hands dropped to her wrists and gripped them, making her gasp and open her eyes. Pushing her away, he rose to his feet in a fluid motion and pulled her up. His brutal grip on her bruised wrists brought fresh tears to her eyes, and she bit her lip as she met his impassive gaze.
"You have had all that I have to offer," he said. "Be content."
"You do not rescind your words?"
"No."
Blade released her and strode away, leaving her gazing after him through her tears.
Chiana did not seek him out again. The hurt of his continued rejection mixed oddly with the happiness his admission of love had brought, and it echoed constantly in her mind. At night, she dreamt of him speaking the words again, but this time with warmth and affection in his eyes instead of resentment.
Blade left the palace on the third day, without visiting her, and she only knew that he had gone when the servants called her Regent once more. She returned to her duties with a heavy heart and a distant, sorrowful expression. At her first audience, the lords treated her gently, forgoing their usual rivalry and rancour, and agreeing with most of her suggestions without debate. The news of Blade's timely rescue brought praise for him from those who sought her favour, and none dared to voice a dislike for the assassin's regency; not even Fothal.
In truth, he had done little to earn their displeasure, since his brief rule had been marked by his lack of interest in it. She got through the days in a haze of ill-concealed grief and worry. Blade's reluctant words were the only bastion of joy to which she could cling. Verdan fed her tonics to build her strength, and gradually the colour returned to her cheeks and the dark rings under her eyes faded. Blade's absence ate at her as it had never done before, and the prospect that he may not return filled her sleep with unpleasant dreams.