Kevin threw himself down next to her, flung back red-gold hair that was in sore need of trimming, and paused with his mouth inches away from hers. ‘I’m right?’
She kissed him. Hokanu’s charms she could resist, but this man was a poison in her blood. ‘Yes, damn you.’
‘I’ll tell you exactly what it would be like. Dull.’ Kevin made a sweeping gesture that wound up catching her into an embrace. He kissed her back. ‘You love being in command.’
‘I never wished for the Acoma mantle,’ she responded in warning sharpness.
‘I know,’ he said easily, not rising to her challenge. ‘That doesn’t change the fact that you love it.’
Mara allowed herself a self-indulgent grimace. ‘Nobody asked your opinion.’
She had not denied his statement. To Kevin, that was as good as an admission he was right. As she leaned back, contented, against his shoulder, he pursued his conclusion ruthlessly. ‘The man you court is no weakling. Once he was husband, he’d be in command, and unless I misunderstand Tsurani tradition, you’d be forever denied rulership.’ Grinning evilly, Kevin asked, ‘So, are you going to marry him?’
Mara reached up, grabbed two fistfuls of red beard, and pulled teasingly. ‘Fool!’ Before he could howl, she released him, half-laughing. ‘I might.’ When his eyes widened, she added, ‘But not yet. The political timing is wrong, and there remain a few things to attend first.’
‘Like what?’ asked Kevin in sudden, humourless concern.
Only partially aware that his banter had masked a gnawing uncertainty, Mara’s face turned grim. ‘Like the destruction of Tasaio of the Minwanabi.’
The table was festive. Paper lanterns shed arrows of light through pierced patterns, and raised rich ruby highlights in the wine the servants had left with the meal. The plates and cutlery were the finest the closets could offer, yet neither Mara nor her guest cared to finish the last of the sweet cakes and sauce. Hokanu sat at ease on his cushions, but his attitude of relaxation was feigned. ‘I understand, of course.’
His tone was mild, unsurprised, and utterly clean of resentment. Yet Mara knew him well enough to see the small, quiet interval he had taken to muster his poise in the moment that followed her refusal, for political considerations, of his informal offer of marriage. He was not distressed – at least not with the enraged bitterness Jiro had shown when she chose his brother, nor the kicked-dog hurt Kevin exhibited in his dark moods — but he felt a genuine pain at being rejected.
Not unexpectedly, his sadness made her ache. ‘Please,’ she added, with less impassivity than she intended. ‘You must know my heart.’
Hokanu glanceddown at his hands, which were still and rested half-curled around his wine goblet. Impulsively Mara wished she could reach across the table and take his long, fine fingers into her own. But that would be awkward, if not improper. . . . She was not agreeing to become his wife. Yet she could not entirely hide her regret. ‘I . . . admire you more than you know. You are everything I could ask for in a father for my children. But we both rule. Our house would be an armed camp. . . . Where would we live? Upon this estate, surrounded by soldiers not loyal to you? On your father’s estate, with soldiers not loyal to me? Can we ask men sworn to our family natamis to obey those of another house, Hokanu?’
The sound of his name as only she could say it raised a bittersweet smile, and her words brought a surprised lift of his brows. ‘Mara, I assumed you would come and live with me upon my father’s estate, and that we would appoint anyone you chose to act as regent for Ayaki until he came to his majority.’ Hokanu made a disparaging gesture aimed entirely at himself. ‘Lady, forgive me for thoughtless presumption. I should have anticipated that you of all women would not react in the time-honoured, customary fashion.’ His expression turned dry with irony. ‘I have admired your free spirit. To make an ordinary wife of you would be like caging a li bird, I see that now.’
He was beautiful, spangled in lamplight, with his eyes deep as the forest pools sacred to priests. Mara drew a deep breath to steady herself. ‘You assumed, Hokanu, but that was no grave fault.’ Before she realized she had indulged herself, she reached across the table and touched his hand. His skin was very warm, each tendon delineated clearly. ‘All these problems would be solved if Tasaio of the Minwanabi did not loom like a sword over my neck. If you and your family had not stood at the heart of the Emperor’s plan to force peace upon the High Council. If -‘