The High Lord (Legends of Trianon: Starla Book 2) Page 11

  Starla nodded. “Yes, I'd say I have a sense of your character akin to if I'd known you for many years. Can they be manipulated?”

  “Not without great difficulty and never entirely. We shared a mental bond for an entire afternoon during the trial and much of the next day. No one would have been able to keep up a pretence that long.”

  “It would have been easier if you'd explained that from the start.”

  Larkel gave a soft chuckle. “Redkin said the same thing. He said that while I was used to sharing memories and knowing people much faster through mental links, you were not. Not letting you show me things in a more normal way was bound to cause mistrust.”

  Starla smiled. “That sounds about right.”

  Larkel held his hand up again, still shrouded in silver light. Starla stepped closer and laid her fingertips against his, letting the ice-cold light envelop her hand too, trying hard to ignore the electric charge the touch caused.

  “So why did you do it all?” Through their bond and in his eyes, she felt the chaotic flow of emotions that question caused.

  “I took you to the Shanebury Inn mainly because I liked the irony, but also because I know it to be a good inn, where you'd be well looked after,” he began, eyes never leaving hers. “I offered to take you around the City because I got the sense from your memories that Galatia interested you greatly. I could feel your curiosity. I took you to Savianna's because her tunics are always acclaimed. I wanted you to feel welcome.”

  Starla nodded. His words were true, but there was a hidden emotion behind them, not contradicting them, yet still seeming important to them.

  “But you hardly know me.”

  He gave her a side-long glance. “I think I got a fair sense of you in the dungeons and the trial, never mind every moment since in the refugee camp.”

  She tilted her head to the side and felt him override the sense of anxiety that had been plaguing him.

  “Let me show you what I saw.”

  Silently, Starla watched her own edited memories played back, watched his replay of the trial and every moment since. Even though she recognised them, they were slightly altered, changed and coloured by his perceptions and emotions as he had viewed them.

  She gasped softly. The woman in his mind was her, but not in a way she had ever viewed herself. That Starla seemed too perfect, strong and self-confident, kind to a fault and of impeccable character, intelligent and thoughtful. She felt herself flush crimson as she saw a brief flash of his desire for her, her blood turning molten.

  “See? Why wouldn't I do all that I did for someone like that?” he asked, his voice low. A roguish smile played at his mouth, but his eyes were vulnerable as she looked back up at him.

  “But I am nowhere near that perfect,” Starla protested, trying to squelch the response to his last thought racing in her blood, a feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

  Larkel's fingers moved against hers, slipping between them. “You had been told not to trust me, but when you finally met me, there wasn't a speck of mistrust in your heart. You were going to make up your own mind, regardless of what others said or did. You are that person, Starla, kind, generous, intelligent. Besides, we are always perfect in the eyes of those who love us.”

  Starla felt her chest tighten, cutting off her breath. His fingers slid a little more, and she mimicked the movement, twinning their hands together. Words were not necessary. They could both see their emotions, perfectly reflected, in the other's mind.

  “Or at least, that is what my father always said.” Larkel smiled.

  Starla caught a fleeting image in his mind that blurred past her and was quickly hidden.

  “What was that?” The emotions around it had been strong and dark, but undefined.

  He became back-lit by a burning, orange sky and the beam vanished as he released her hand, taking his mental presence with it. “You have your secrets, I have mine.”

  Resisting the urge to clutch the amulet, Starla nodded.

  “So am I forgiven?” he asked, his eyes deep pools of fear and hope.

  “Yes. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

  “Of course. Will you accept the clips now?” he said, stepping back.

  Starla chuckled. “You still have them?”

  Larkel smiled, a light sparking in his eyes. “Yes. I wasn't going to get rid of them until I had heard you tell me straight that you didn't feel as I do. But now,” he lifted a hand and ran gentle fingers from her temple to her collar bone.

  Starla shivered at the touch but kept her eyes on his. His smile broadened at her soft blush. “Now, it is getting late. Would you like to have dinner with me? Get to know me in a more conventional manner?”

  Starla felt her gut squirm even as her heart rejoiced. “Dinner would be wonderful.”

  ***

  Larkel had never realised exactly what it would mean to have his feelings mirrored back. For the first time in more than a decade, the walk through the city was not filled with only pain and darkness. Starla's presence at his side seemed to be dispelling the fear and hate that hounded him, keeping it from reaching into his heart.

  He glanced down at her where she walked, now in a light grey tunic after insisting he allow her to have a moment to refresh herself from the day's work. He hadn't expected the level of desire he had felt from her. Everything in her mind pointed at an upbringing that denied such things, made them wrong. But just like her decision to trust him, she had let the feelings flow, unhindered.

  Still, I will do my best not to rush that side of things.

  He felt the fire in his blood rebel and had to swallow a laugh. He had resigned himself to a life in the unfeeling, icy embrace of his powers, to have no chance at any new relationships because fear and hatred had turned all but his oldest friends from him, and then, not even all of those had stayed. In that life, there was no one he would ever have chosen.

  He let his fingers find her hand and hid a smile as her eyes darted up to his face. The surprise in them melted in the heat of a soft flame, and he felt her adjust her hand, sliding her fingers more comfortably between his.

  The urge to forget dinner and take her back to his house almost overwhelmed his sense as she smiled, her other hand running light fingers along his wrist.

  “Here we are.” He gestured to an open door, trying to retain his composed voice.

  The owner of the establishment came forward, bowing deeply. “High Lord. Your table is ready.”

  Starla couldn't help her curiosity as the woman displayed none of the usual fear or hate. She led them to the roof, where a single table and two chairs had been arranged, the vantage allowing a view over the city.

  “Please enjoy your evening.”

  Starla let go of Larkel's hand and sat as a waiter pulled out a chair for her. She spotted four more members of staff standing beside small tables laden with food, drink, and crockery. The waiters clearly did not share their employer’s trust in Larkel.

  “Do you like it?”

  She met his eyes. “It is perfect.” She bit her lip, not sure how to voice the question and unsure if he'd appreciate the waiters being able to hear.

  Feeling her easy blush rise, she laid her hand on the table, palm up. Larkel's eyes followed the movement, and his eyebrows rose, but he knew what she wanted, and he slid his hand over hers, sending a wave of heat racing up her arm.

  What happened to getting to know me in a more normal way?

  She felt his amusement, even as she also felt his burning emotions. She pushed her own down.

  I have a question that I wasn't sure you'd appreciate the waiters hearing.

  Ah. She felt him catch her memory, her feelings as the owner had led them here. A small smile curled his lips. I am not offended, Starla. I know full well the aura that follows me everywhere. Lythia is a friend of my mother's.

  Starla tried to catch a memory of a tall woman, with eyes like sapphires, but it slid past her. Larkel chuckled and brought the memory back.


  He looked younger in it, about Arnou's age, walking beside her by the lake, just talking. The feelings were full of love and security.

  Can I meet her?

  Larkel's hand tensed and the memory winked out, like a snuffed candle.

  She is on Aurelia. She had gone there on my father's behalf, but then Kyron attacked and no one could leave the planet they were on.

  Starla felt the wave of sadness, but it seemed tied to something much deeper, much darker. She squeezed his hand.

  I am sorry.

  He let go of her as a waiter approached with their first platter.

  “Don't apologise. This is what I want, to share everything.”

  Starla's heart did a flip as his low tone hinted at more than just memories, a remembered flash of his desire burning her cheeks.

  “I have a question too. Why are thoughts of magic tied to fear and pain in your mind? I can see that you have decided those feelings are not necessarily accurate, but they're still there.”

  Starla took a deep breath and launched into her tale of refugees and corrupt men. He had lived all her memories with the Guardians but had not interfered much with the ones from Earth.

  Inside, she felt herself glowing, his keen mind interested to learn anything she had to offer.

  ***

  Starla's heart was still beating overly fast as the door clicked shut behind the High Lord.

  Dinner at his favourite restaurant had been wonderful. They had laughed and chatted freely, the past week forgotten. Even the half-terrified waiters hadn't managed to dent the evening.

  She looked down at her hand where he had kissed her goodnight (as she had explained at dinner was customary) and promised to meet her for breakfast the next morning. It tingled, the impression from his lips feeling permanently emblazoned onto her skin.

  So this is what being in love feels like? she thought, looking at her flushed cheeks and shining eyes in the mirror.

  Starla knew she should be bone-weary, yet sleep eluded her, her desire coursing through her body like electricity. But the exertions of the day finally won out, and she fell asleep, thinking about the week ahead she would spend mostly in Larkel's company with no chores to separate them.

  ***

  Starla woke up panting, the satin of her nightdress soaked through with sweat, the Star glued to her chest. This nightmare had followed the pattern of all the others, leaving Starla shaken by the images she had seen. Those she had left behind had been writhing in extreme pain. Pierre had been the focus in this one, screaming in agony, a tall, dark shadow behind him.

  Getting up, she threw the window wide open and let the fresh, pre-dawn air invigorate her. She chalked the continuous nightmares up to all the guilt she was feeling. Guilt over how comfortable and confidant she felt dressed in the Galatian tunics and knowing Father Joe and Mia wouldn't approve, though oddly neither Mia nor Guy had been in any of her nightmares. Guilt over how she didn't really miss Earth, how Galatia had come to feel more and more like home, its people more and more dear to her. And most of all, guilt over Raoul and knowing how he felt and that she could never love him how he wanted. She knew Raoul would consider them to be betrothed. She felt guilty of her growing tempest of feelings for Larkel while things hadn't yet been put right with Raoul. Yet she knew it was foolish. She couldn't reject Larkel's advances just because there had been no way for her to communicate with those back on Earth.

  She loved Larkel, more fiercely than she'd ever thought was possible. The thing that amazed her the most, though, was that he seemed to feel exactly the same way.

  She fought down a wave of anxiety. She still did not understand who, or what, she was. She aged like a human, but it seemed she had magic.

  The magic is probably the Star, not me.

  She shook her head sadly. If that was true, then she was indeed human, after all, all magic abilities not her own. The thought of losing Larkel caused physical pain, and if his feelings truly did match hers, then was that what she was condemning him to when she died a few decades from now, and he still had thousands of years ahead of him?

  A knock sounded at the door, and Starla pushed the thoughts away. If loss and pain were where all this was headed, then she'd have to talk to him about it.

  She opened the door just a crack, and her heart began racing again, flooding her blood with heat and making her muscles tense.

  “Good morning, Starla,” Larkel said, his indigo eyes burning with a dark fire that made it harder to breathe.

  “Good morning, Larkel. I'm sorry. I am not ready yet.”

  He smiled, eyes staying politely on her face and not on the skimpy satin dress she was wearing, partially visible as she hid behind the door. “I'm early. I will wait.”

  Starla didn't want to close the door, but neither did she think she could withstand him being inside the room while she bathed, a mere wooden screen between them.

  “Take your time. I will be downstairs.”

  She watched him leave and clicked the door shut, heart hammering, her mind stunned at the words that had almost come out of her mouth.

  She entered the bathing area and looked up at her reflection, emerald eyes growing hard with determination. If this was all she got, then she was not going to deny herself anything.

  For this week, or two, until we are back at the refugee camp, there will be no war, no amulet, no mysterious magical abilities and no pending loss by dint of not being more than human.

  She knew the thought was selfish, knew it was against how she would usually make her choices, but this feeling, that made her heart swell, her blood burn, and her mind feel that she had finally found her perfect match, wasn't something she was willing to simply give up. It was only a week. Nothing much would change for anyone else, but for her, she would have a wonderful memory, proof of world-altering love, and that would have to be enough.

  ***

  “What are we doing today?” Starla asked as they stepped outside.

  “I thought, perhaps, you might still like to offer your volunteer services.”

  Starla tilted her head to the side. “But Makhi Horato said—”

  “No, not at the refugee camp. At the Makhi Healing Ward.”

  Starla felt her eyebrows shoot up even as her stomach clenched. “What could I possibly help them with?”

  He gave her a half-smile, but it was shadowed. “There are a lot of people needing Makhi help at the moment. We may be greater in number than any of Trianon's gifted, but there are still not enough of us. I'm sure we can find you something to do.”

  Starla bit her tongue, swallowing the words. Her lack of magic was not going to be discussed this week.

  He took her hand, and she felt his mind brush against hers.

  “If you don't want to, I'm sure I can—”

  “No, no. I'm just not convinced I can be much use. But if you think I can, I would like to help.”

  Larkel frowned, no doubt still sensing some level of discomfort, but then nodded. “I have duties to attend to in various places around the Makhi District. So we'll have breakfast and then I'll take you to the Healing Ward and introduce you to someone special.”

  Starla felt a blurred memory fly past, and her curiosity flared. “That sounds good, but where are we eating?”

  They had passed out of the Market District a while ago and were now nearing the grand houses of the Residential District that eventually stopped at the park.

  “Redkin has invited us over. He said that no matter your choice with regards to me, he will not allow you to fall behind in your Pareon lessons.”

  Starla grinned, then felt it dim as the elderly Makhi's face was replaced by Father Joe, sprawled on the floor of his office with her, pouring over books and maps.

  She felt his flare of curiosity and pulled herself closer.

  Would you like to see?

  Larkel laughed, and his presence swelled. Behind that all was a near-raging fire as she came closer to him.

  Starla started to shift away,
feeling as if the heat in his mind would burn her.

  Don't.

  Starla stilled and met his gaze, the emotions behind the sending seeming to flow around her, threatening to drown her.

  Slowly, he let go of her hand and then slid it around her waist, pulling her against his side. She felt her own emotions spike then begin to settle, as his had done, into a burning, but relatively tame, river flowing around them.

  He gave her a half-smile, and she felt his presence prod the image of Father Joe.

  I would like to see.

  Shaking her head as her heart fought to resume a more natural rhythm, she took him back to her childhood, to hundreds of lessons, to live with her the creation of their relationship, and many nights of debate and laughter.

  The night that had changed everything, her pain at his lies, she would keep hidden for now, not wanting to mar the day with sad memories.

  ***

  The Makhi's Healing Ward was nothing short of miraculous. Starla had been there for barely half an hour and already she had witnessed a broken arm mended and a deep wound on a training soldier, that should have been fatal, vanish before her eyes.

  “This is amazing,” Starla said, turning wide eyes on Larkel.

  Starla heard Redkin chuckle and gave him a side-long mock glare, just as she would Father Joe.

  He held up his hands, the cat-like ears twitching in amusement. Starla felt another wave of surprise as she realised that in only two short weeks, the people of Trianon had become normal to her.

  Must be all the mind links with Larkel. Living his memories has given me a sense of what these people are like from his perspective.

  The High Lord placed guiding fingers on the small of her back sending a tingle up her spine.