“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what is wrong.”
But he couldn’t bring himself to say what he thought. He wanted Callie to think he was the strongest, bravest person on earth. She must lean on him, not the other way around. “You must tell me the truth about those girls. Are you happy with them?”
She knew his pride was keeping him from telling her what was wrong. “They are hardly girls. They are old women who want a man.” My man, she almost said.
“Oh? Perhaps I should—”
She hit him sharply in the ribs before he could finish that sentence, making him laugh.
“You do not like them,” he said.
“They do not like me.”
He laughed at this. “How could they not?” he asked, saying what, to him, was absolutely honest. To him, Callie was funny and smart and entertaining; she was the best company in the world, knowing when to be quiet, when to talk.
Thinking about her while holding her made him kiss her neck, her ear, but within seconds he realized he had to stop that. Trying to return to the innocence of their childhood, he began to tickle her. But her squirming on his lap did things to his body that even the kissing could not. “Callasandra…,” he whispered in anguish.
Callie was starting to tell him about the Hadley sisters. “Actually, it is not that they do not like me; they don’t like or dislike me. Oh, Tally, they are so very, very boring.”
Talis was still absorbed with her body on his and was not listening to her, but now Callie had formed a plan. But, as always, she knew that she had to make him believe that the idea was his.
“It is your fault,” she said, and that declaration got his full attention. Like every man, he’d take responsibility for his errors only if there was no other possible path.
“Mine? What have I done to cause those women to dislike you? Callie, really, it must be something that you have done to make them think ill of you.”
“They say I have a man’s education.”
At that Talis snorted in laughter. “You? A man’s education. Do you know how to wield a sword or dagger? You are so weak you could not even lift the armor you would need to wear.”
Callie persisted. “And having your company for all these years has ruined me for being around a gaggle of girls. They talk of the most nonsensical things, such as clothing and gossip. I am used to your talk of politics and philosophy and all the really important things of life.”
For a moment Callie wasn’t sure if he was going to believe her on this. Talis just might laugh at this and point out they had never talked of politics or philosophy; more than anything else they had talked of clothing and speculated at what was going on at the queen’s court.
But right now honesty between them would ruin everything. She wanted him to take her away from the women. She wanted them to be together, and if Talis thought he was doing this because she needed it, then he’d move heaven to keep them together. If she told him the truth, that she felt as though she were dying without him, he might tell her that this was frivolous and that it would be good “discipline” for her to go back to the women.
“I am learning nothing,” she whispered. Without you, there is nothing I want to learn, is what she thought.
For a moment, Talis said nothing, but sat there frowning, thinking of this matter. At first he didn’t know what to do, then he saw a way out. If he helped Callie, he wouldn’t have to admit that he was dying without her, that his energy, his very will to live was lessening every day without her near. “You will come to me,” he said firmly. “You will stay with me. A person must learn in life.”
“I cannot,” she said gloomily. “They will not allow it.” She knew that the best way to get Talis to do something was to tell him that he could not. “You do not know how these people are. Woman are here and men are there. They are separate. They get together to make babies and that is all.”
“Oh?” he said, an eyebrow raised. “And what do you know of making babies?”
She was silent, but she was smiling in the darkness, liking this teasing. “Not much. Would you tell me all there is to know?” When she asked this, she wiggled a bit on his lap.
But Talis’s reaction was not as she’d hoped. For some reason, when he spoke, there was anger in his voice. “What has happened to make you talk of making babies? What man has spoken of this to you?”
“No one,” she said truthfully. For the last week she had lived with women and women alone. “There was a boy who said I was pretty, but that is all. Do you think I am pretty?” It was not Callie’s intention to make him jealous (not that she wouldn’t have if she’d thought of it) but right now all she wanted was to coax him into giving her a compliment.
“Who is this boy?” Talis asked fiercely, his arms tightening about her waist.
“No one,” Callie answered, exasperated, but still determined to get a compliment out of him. “He said I had nice hair. Beautiful hair. Do you think so?”
“Why did you not have on that thing that covers your hair? How could he see your hair?”
Callie was smiling. She now realized that they were at cross-purposes and she was going to get no compliment fro
m him. But then, perhaps his jealousy was a compliment. His jealousy was quite odd; it erupted when Callie least expected it, and she could never predict it. The times when she had tried to make him jealous, she had failed miserably.