Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(96)

The voice of her aunt echoed in her memory. “Love doesn’t have to come first. Your uncle and I didn’t love each other at the beginning, but we learned to respect each other, and love grew out of that. I was glad my parents chose him for me.”

I respect him, don’t I?

Yet that was the heart of the problem. It felt disrespectful to lie. To pretend.

Then tell him, she thought. Or it will eat you up inside.

But what if the knowledge that she did not love him ate him up inside instead? Better, then, that she was the one to suffer, since she was the cause of the problem. And it might not come to that, anyway. She might yet grow to love him. How can I not? He was, after all, kind and attractive. Maybe it was only that her fondness for him was a different sort of love than her love for Izare. She was a different person now. She would love differently now.

Her drawing of Hari and Jikari came out badly, but they admired it all the same. She apologised and promised she would do another one. It was her last sheet of paper, so she could draw no more, but Sadeer had completed her wedding outfit and all were taking it in turns to stand up and examine the elaborate stitchwork and luxurious fabric.

Before Rielle had a chance to look, a hand slipped around her arm and she turned to see Ankari nodding back in the direction of the leaders’ meeting. Baluka had emerged, his face in shadow as the second sun was behind him–having not quite followed its sibling over the horizon.

“Go to him,” Ankari said.

Weaving her way past the other Travellers, Rielle emerged into air growing colder as night approached. Out of the light, she was able to make out more of Baluka’s face, but not enough to gauge his expression. Her heart quickened. Her stomach seemed to hover, as if on the brink of plummeting to the depths of her. Can I stay, or will I have to start again?

As she reached him, he took her hands and squeezed them.

“They approved it,” he said, then exhaled.

She sighed with relief. His eyes reflected the lights of the canopy behind her. She opened her mouth, but suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. Aware that he was watching her, she lowered her gaze.

“Come with me,” he said.

He tugged her hands, drawing her away. “But your mother…?”

“She knows.”

Letting him lead, she considered the future that lay before her, unimpeded. She would marry him. They would travel the worlds and raise a family. One day his father would turn over leadership of the family to Baluka, and a great part of that responsibility would also fall to her. From what she had seen, it was hard work, sometimes dangerous, sometimes exhausting, but a life the Travellers were happy with. A life not unlike the one she had dreamed of as a child, in which she defied tradition and joined her brother in travelling to far places to buy the dyes and fabric her parents had traded in.

They reached the road. Baluka created a flame to dance before them as they started down it, and she soon realised he was taking her back to the wagons. Perhaps simply so they could talk alone. Perhaps he had something else in mind. Would I mind, if he did? After all, she was no innocent in these matters, though it had been years since she had last enjoyed physical contact with a man. The thought of it did spark excitement within her. Though if I conceived, it could be awkward, if we have to wait another cycle before we marry.

But he drew her past the wagons and down the steep slope beyond, and she soon realised he was taking her to the little shelter he’d built that morning. The wind had blown the blankets into a roll against the base of it, so they untangled and spread them out again. The air stilled and grew warmer and she guessed he was using magic.

They settled, close enough that she could feel the warmth and firmness of his thigh against hers.

“Rielle,” he said. “You are happy at the news.”

“I am,” she told him.

“But you… pause.”

She looked down, thinking of her earlier deliberations. It would hurt him needlessly to tell him she didn’t yet love him, especially as there was every chance a passion for him would grow anyway.

“I understand,” he said. “You have been with us for many days. You may need many more days to decide.”

She shook her head. “I have decided.” Reaching under her tunic to where she had fastened the braid, she untied it. “That does not mean I have no doubts. I am not young. I have seen things and done things that taught me to see trouble in every choice.”

He nodded, his expression sympathetic. Listening.

She opened her mouth to try to explain more, but not yet knowing all the words she closed it again. As she brought the braid into view she saw his eyes widen and then rise to meet hers.

She paused, then wrapped it around his wrist. “I don’t want to leave,” she told him as she tied the knot. “You, and your family. It would… it would make me… unhappy.”

A grin flashed, and then faded to a smile. He looked at her searchingly, then reached out to touch her face. As he leaned forward she knew he was going to kiss her and she smiled, and the world seemed to tilt so she moved forward to meet him.

Their lips met. Warmth. Soft skin. A gentle but firm press, then exploration. Angels, he is a good kisser, she thought, taking hold of his arm to steady herself. He did not seem inclined to disengage and she was in no hurry. Maybe I wouldn’t be unhappy if he has more in mind…

But at that moment the distant sound of drums and music started. He pulled away. “They will want us to go back,” he said.