To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(44)
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Graciella noticed Yavi seemed even quieter than usual during breakfast. He seemed as if he wanted to say something, but his stoic expression gave no hint as to what was on his mind.
“Emperor Yavi,” she spoke up, “I was wondering…”
He immediately stopped eating to listen. “Yes?”
“Well, I was wondering if you’d be willing to teach me some of your sword techniques. As I mentioned, my father taught me rudimentary swordplay when I was small, but it’s been a while. I would like to be able to protect myself better in case of another encounter with bandits.”
He looked down and sipped his tea. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”
“Could we get started today? Are you busy?”
“I’m meeting with my generals here at the palace this afternoon.”
“What about this morning? Before lunch?”
He seemed to take a deep breath before answering. “All right.”
“Great! What should I wear? And where should I meet you for the lesson?”
He glanced down at her body, then cleared his throat. “We can practice in the armory inside the palace, so you won’t need a cloak, or…any unusual attire.”
“I wish I had leather armor like what Zafira made for Jiandra. I’ve never worn breeches before.”
He suddenly pushed back from the table and stood, looking uncomfortable. “I must go.”
“What? Don’t you want more toast?” She held up the heaping plate of cinnamon bread.
“Perhaps later. I’ve just remembered I must—read a letter.” He bowed stiffly. “Please excuse me, Miss Stovy.”
“Of course.” She started to get up, but he had already turned away and headed for the stairs.
Well, that was strange. At least he’d agreed to teach her some sword skills, although he hadn’t said what time. She would just have to wait for him to send for her. And despite his gruff demeanor, she decided she’d keep her chin up in the meantime, not get discouraged. It wasn’t over until it was over, and until he made it clear he wasn’t interested in her, she intended to keep trying to win his attention and love.
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Yavi shut the door of his study and ran an agitated hand over his face. It was too early to drink katsuri, but he needed some kind of distraction, because that girl was going to be the death of him. Why did she have to wake up every day looking more beautiful than the day before? And why was she suddenly so determined to be near him, exactly when he most needed to distance himself?
If she had gotten in bed with him the night before like he’d thought—yes, hoped—she would, all would have been lost. He would have broken his oath several times over, if she’d allowed it, and become the old Yavi again. It was by sheer force of will that he hadn’t jumped out of bed and run to the door to stop her from leaving at midnight. He wanted to ask her at breakfast what she was looking for in his room, but he didn’t want to reveal that he’d been faking sleep when she left. And if her answer had been “you,” he would have been sorely tempted to sweep her up out of her chair and smother her with kisses. Then it would be an entirely different type of swordplay he would have taught her this morning.
Stop, stop, stop! He strode to the fireplace, grabbed the iron poker, and stoked the embers to revive the flames a bit. He thought about how much Jiandra would hate him if she returned from her trip to find him seducing her sister. And how disappointed Yajna would be, for he looked up to Yavi as the eldest. And though he hated to even entertain the thought, deep down a part of him suspected that the persistence of Nandala’s curse of starvation and poverty was related to his own past sins. He worried that he was unfit to wear the emperor’s ruby, and that the Gods would never bless Nandala under his rule.
But if the Gods were angry with him anyway, why not give in to temptation and seduce Graciella? She definitely seemed to be feeling some attraction. All he had to do was turn on the Yavi charm; he was well-versed in the art of seduction. Or used to be. Now he felt old, bitter, out of his element, out of practice.
But every time he imagined pissing off his oath, scooping her up, and carrying her up the stairs to his chambers, he felt empty inside. Why not do it? Because it wasn’t who he was anymore, and it wasn’t who he wanted to be.
And he had an even stronger motivation than being the man he wanted to be: protecting the woman she was. He couldn’t bring himself to disrespect and take advantage of the purest, most untainted, angelic being in his life—Graciella Stovy.
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Graciella poured some of Wilten’s special herb onto the worktable to examine it closer. “Could we grind this to a fine powder with the mortar and pestle? Would it still work?”
Wilten nodded. “Oh yes. It get stronger if you grind.”
“So has your mother ever used this herb on a man? Have you seen exactly what it does?”
Wilten giggled. “No, I have not seen. But everyone in Nandala know what it does to a man.”
Graciella got a vivid picture, made all the more vivid by her glimpse of Yavi’s groin bulging in his towel last night. “Is it for men only, or does it also…do something to women?”
“It work on woman too, but not same way as man, because woman don’t have pircuk.”
“Peer what?”