Ship of Magic

She spoke slowly. “I never thought of it quite that way. I always thought that it was just something he dared to do, reckoning he wouldn't get caught.” She forced herself to ask him, “You really think it was revenge?”

“Sounds like it to me,” Brashen said quietly. “I think that's the worst thing I've ever heard,” he added softly. “Devon. If I ever meet him, I'll kill him for you.” The sincerity in his voice startled her.

“The worst was afterwards,” she admitted to him. “We got to Bingtown a couple of weeks later. And I was sure I must be pregnant.

Just positive of it. Well, I dared not go to my father, and Mother wasn't much better. So I went to my married sister Keffria, sure that she could advise me. I swore her to silence and then I told her.” Althea shook her head. She moved the cindin in her lip again. It had left a sore. The flavor was almost gone now.

“Keffria?” Brashen pushed her. He sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know the rest of the story.

“Was horrified. She started crying, and told me I was ruined forever. A slut and a whore and a shame to my family name. She stopped speaking to me. Four or five days later, my blood days came, right on time. I found her alone and told her, and told her if she ever told Papa or Mama, I'd say she was lying. Because I was so scared. From all she had said, I was sure that they'd throw me out and never love me again if they knew.”

“Hadn't she promised not to tell?”

“I didn't trust her to keep her word. I was already pretty sure she'd told Kyle, from the way he started treating me. But she didn't yell at me or anything. She hardly spoke at all when she gave me the navel ring. Just told me that if I wore it, I wouldn't get pregnant or diseased, and that it was the least that I owed my family.” Althea scratched the back of her neck, then winced. “It was never the same after that between us. We learned to be civil to one another, mostly to stop our parents from asking questions. But I think that was the worst summer of my life. Betrayal on top of betrayal.”

“And after that, I suppose, you sort of did what you pleased with men?”

She should have known he'd want to know. Men always seemed to want to know. She shrugged, resigned to the whole truth. “Here and there. Not often. Well, only twice. I had a feeling that it hadn't been . . . done right. The way the men on the Vivacia talked, I suspected it should at least have been fun. It had just been . . . pressure, and a bit of pain, and wetness. That was all. So I finally got up my nerve and tried a couple more times, with different men. And it was ... all right.”

Brashen lifted his head to look into her eyes. “You call this ‘all right'?”

Another truth she didn't want to part with. She felt like she was giving away a weapon. “This was not ‘all right.’ This has been what it was always supposed to be. It was never like this before for me.” Then, because she could not bear the softness that had come into his eyes, she had to add. “Maybe it was the cindin.” She fished the tiny fragment that was left out of her lip. “It made little sores inside my mouth,” she complained and looked away from the small hurt on his face.

“Like as not, it was the cindin,” he admitted. “I've heard it affects women that way, sometimes. Most women don't use it much you know, because it can, um, make you bleed. Even when it's not your time.” He looked suddenly embarrassed.

“Now he tells me,” she muttered aloud. His grip on her had loosened. The cindin was wearing off and she was suddenly sleepy. And her head had begun a nasty throbbing. She should get up. Cold room. Wet clothes. In a minute. In a minute, she'd have to get up and go back to being alone. “I have to go. If we get caught like this . . .”

“I know,” he said, but he didn't move. Except to slide his hand in a long caress down her body. A shiver seemed to follow his touch.

“Brashen. You know this can't happen again.”

“I know, I know.” He breathed the words against her skin as he kissed the back of her neck slowly. “This can't happen again. No more. No more after this last time.”

Chapter Twenty-One Visitors

Ronica looked up from her account ledgers with a sigh. “Yes? what is it?”

Rache looked uneasy. “Delo Trell is in the sitting room.”

Ronica raised her eyebrows. “Why?” Delo usually ran in and out as she wished. She and Malta had been best friends for at least two years now, and the formalities between the girls had eroded long ago.

Rache looked at the floor. “Her older brother is with her. Cerwin Trell.” Rache hesitated.

Ronica frowned to herself. “Well, I can see him now, I suppose. Not here, put him in the morning room. Did he say what he wanted?”

Rache bit her lip for a moment. “I'm sorry, ma'am. He said he was here to call upon Malta. With his sister.”

“What?” Ronica shot to her feet as if jabbed.