A Kiss of Fire (A Kiss of Magic #2)(47)

“I’m ready,” she announced.

“Good. Come with me.”

She obediently followed him out of her room. But he had not taken a few strides before he let her catch up to him and placed a light, guiding hand at her waist. They walked in silence for a while before she ventured, “I think we should talk about yesterday.”

Again that tic fluttered in his jaw.

“Not yet,” he said. He stared straight ahead as he said the words. They, and he, perplexed her. She would have thought he would want to talk about it. Want to press his advantages with her.

“But I think—“

“There is someone I would like you to meet,” he cut her off, guiding her into a part of the temple she had not seen before. Like the rest of the building it was shining with newness, the floors made of marble and the walls made of wood paneling. The wood was shined to a gloss, the warm tones of it melting into the smells of fresh cut lumber that still hung in the air.

He led her into a room with arched ceilings and long windows that let the sunlight stream in. There was a large marble fireplace on one wall and tapestries hanging on the others. In the center of the room was a large loom and sitting in front of the loom was a woman.

She was about five and a half feet tall, had long black hair peppered with silver, and a pair of sharp, keen eyes. She took in the couple approaching her with a guarded expression.

“Ariana Colla, this is my mother, Fatima. Mother, this is Ariana, she is a Saren triumvir.”

Fatima lifted a brow at the introduction, but Ariana had a feeling this woman already knew exactly who she was and why she had come there. She regarded her son with a measuring glance, then looked back at Ariana.

“She is a pretty thing…if a bit thin,” she said.

Fatima was a bit rounder of hip than Ariana was. Come to think of it, many of the women she had seen had boasted round hips and abundant breasts. Suddenly, under this woman's regard, she felt she was somehow lacking. She quickly pushed through the feeling though, remembering who she was. She was Ariana Colla. She helped rule her world. She was not lacking in anything.

“So…you are the infamous Saren woman who has stolen into my son’s every waking thought,” Fatima mused.

“Mother,” Sin scolded her, looking discomfited. Then he turned to Ariana. “I thought you might like a companion. That you two might get to know each other.” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the door they had entered by.

Fatima put down the loom’s shuttle and turned to face Ariana fully.

“Come, let me look at you,” she said, holding out her arms. There was the ringing of tiny golden bracelets jingling on her wrists. She was wearing a peacock blue blouse and an emerald green skirt in the Kiltian style. There was a scarlet sash tied around her waist.

Ariana stepped forward a little reluctantly, but the woman did not seem to notice her recalcitrance. She touched Ariana’s shoulders and drew her in closer. She eyed her critically.

“Well, I suppose you’ll do for looks. Let’s see if you’ve anything to flesh out your pretty face.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ariana asked, affronted.

“Have you a brain, girl? A personality? Go on…tell me what you think of me and my son.”

“I-I don’t think anything about you. I’ve only just met you!”

“Ah, but you have many thoughts about my son. And not all of them good, I’m thinking.”

“He’s brought me here against my will! Please, if you have any influence over him…tell him to bring me back home. Make him see that I am not what he wants!”

“I cannot make him see lies. You are what he wants, and he has gone through a great deal of trouble to get you. Do you understand what it means, this thing he has done by taking you like he has?”

“It means something to him…to Kiltians…but it means nothing to me!”

“Are you so certain?” the older woman asked. “Come. Sit.”

Fatima took her by her elbow and led her to a grouping of chairs by one of the sunny windows.

“Isn’t it lovely? To have so much room?” she asked, taking a seat across from her. “Before the treaty and the land we were all cramped together in a couple of rooms. My son, his brother, his brother’s wives and concubines, their children and me. Generations together, all in one place. Now there is all of this room and I don’t know what to do with it. It feels lonely sometimes. But now you are here and I might share the space with you.”

“Thank you,” Ariana said quietly. She was trying to imagine what it must have been like…all of those people in such a small, confined area. She didn’t think she could have borne not being able to have some privacy. And yet Fatima spoke as though she missed that closeness. “You have grandchildren?”

“Four and one on the way. My other son has two wives and three concubines. It is Harea, his youngest concubine, who is ready to produce my fifth grandchild. There is much in the way of bloodlines for this family. We shall rule the Kiltian people for many generations to come. Although, Raj Vich and his line of kin will only inherit if my son does not produce issue. He needs an heir.”

“Then he should spend his time looking for a woman who would welcome his advances!” Ariana said bitterly.