Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

27

The halls of the palace were peaceful at night, as they always had been. Although she desperately needed rest, Mhera had had trouble sleeping ever since she had returned home. There was too much weighing on her mind day in and day out—too many questions, too many problems, and the fear that she was not equal to the task that had been lain before her.

On one such night a couple weeks into the Matei and Mhera's unsteady reign, she decided to go walking; the exercise might help to clear her head, and she was tired of spending so many wakeful hours lying in her bed.

Turning down a darkened hall on her way toward the Sovereign Square, Mhera noticed a familiar figure silhouetted before an expansive window overlooking the imperial gardens. At his side was the dark, elegant shape of his shadowcat, half his height. Mhera approached him on silent, slippered feet. Farra's ears twitched backward, and the cat looked toward Mhera as she reached out to touch Uachi's shoulder. "Ua—"

A sudden force cut his name short; the world spun, and the shock of an impact shuddered through her body. She was against the wall, her feet dangling, Uachi's strong hand locked around her throat. Mhera made a strangled sound, grasping at his vise-like fingers, and looked down into his shadowed face. Somewhere near at hand came the throaty growl of the shadowcat. She saw recognition dawn in Uachi's dark eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was falling. She landed painfully, choking for air.

He had dropped her and jerked back; now he stepped toward her, the hand that had seized her a loose fist clutched to his chest. "Mhera! Are you all right?"

Mhera's body trembled with adrenaline, and she shivered, cold with shock and fear. Uachi reached for her, but she shrank away on instinct with a sob of protest. Somewhere in her mind, a voice said, He didn't mean it—he didn't mean it—but her trembling body would not bear his touch. In that moment, the uneasy friendship that had bridged the gap between them was forgotten, and he was once again the grim, wicked ranger who had threatened her life and dragged her, bound by the wrists, through a muddy rebel encampment toward certain death.

At once, Uachi raised his hand again and stepped away from her; he nearly tripped over Farra, who was lurking at his heel and huffing with agitation through her bared teeth. "I didn't hear you coming," he said. There was a tremor in his voice. "Mhera, I swear, I did not know it was you."

With an effort, Mhera rose to her feet. "I know. I know." She leaned against the wall, her legs trembling beneath her.

"I've hurt you. Please, let me see—"

When he edged toward her again, she flinched. She raised a hand and took a step back from him. "Please. Be quiet; you'll wake someone. I'm okay...just...please, give me a moment."

Uachi stood motionless; his keen gaze was unsettling. Mhera took several steadying breaths. "I'm all right." She looked up at him, searching his face, and massaged her throat. He had held her just for the space of a breath; she hoped there would not be any bruises. "I did not mean to surprise you. I should have known not to sneak up on you in the dark."

"It was instinct." Mhera could tell by the wretched look on his face that his apology was sincere. "Forgive me, Mhera, please."

"I forgive you." She wondered how she could so badly startle a man half again her height and three times as broad. "Can you not sleep?"

"I should ask the same thing of you. Why are you wandering alone?"

Mhera sighed. "My mind will not permit me any rest."

"The crown is heavy," Uachi said.

Studying his face in the gloom, Mhera hesitated. She surveyed her body; her limbs still trembled, and her throat still throbbed with the memory of his punishing hand, but her pulse had begun to slow. She asked herself in that moment whether she feared the man before her, and her heart answered.