Having delivered her scornful denouncement, Zohra swept away with a jingle of gold chains, leaving a startled Alysson to stare after her. Take her to wife? The thought of marriage to Jafar had never crossed her mind—at least not seriously. She was his captive, nothing more. And despite Zohra's warning to leave, she had no choice but to remain his captive.
Damn the woman! Alysson fumed, clenching her fists. The Berber witch not only had cut up her peace, but had actually dared threaten her!
The more Alysson thought about it, the angrier she became. After a few more moments of seething, she turned abruptly on her heel and marched across the courtyard, directly into Jafar's crowded reception hall.
He looked up in surprise, as did every other man in the room. The sudden silence in the great chamber told her more than words that her behavior was unorthodox to say the least, but Alysson was too annoyed at the moment to care what Jafar's tribe thought of her.
"I should like to request an audience," she said tightly, coming to a halt just inside the doorway. "If you can manage to spare a few moments."
The concern in Jafar's expression was evident as he dismissed the crowd with a swift wave of his hand.
The hall was cleared almost immediately, the crowd filing out into the courtyard, but the interval gave Alysson enough time to realize her mistake. A flush of embarrassment tinged her cheeks. She had Jafar's undivided attention now, just as she had demanded, but if she complained of Zohra, he would only think her jealous.
When he invited her to join him, she slowly settled herself on the carpet beside him, her mind racing to think of some plausible excuse for her interruption.
"Mahmoud says you may be impeached by your tribal council because you allowed Gervase to live," she said finally.
Jafar seemed to misunderstand the reason for her comment, for his expression became shuttered. "Don't be concerned, mademoiselle, that my disagreement with the council will affect your colonel's release. I have given my word that no harm will come to Bourmont and that will not change, even if I no longer rule."
"That wasn't my concern," Alysson protested. "I just think it immensely unfair that you could be so harshly punished simply for showing clemency to an enemy."
Jafar gave her a sharp glance, as if surprised that her indignation could be for him.
But it was for him. She couldn't bear to think his sparing a man's life could cost him so dearly.
Shaking his head slowly, Jafar looked away. "You measure fairness by your Western standards, Ehuresh. The council sees my action in a different light . . . a weakness at best, a betrayal at worst. A weak leader is not fit to rule. A traitorous one is not fit to live."
"You are not a traitor!" Alysson exclaimed in ou
trage, squeezing her hands into fists.
"No?" His smile was faint, bleak. "I swore to avenge the deaths of my parents, but I failed. I broke an oath of blood."
He returned his gaze to hers and Alysson drew a sharp breath at the pain and the unguarded need in his eyes. It was a need for understanding.
That she could give him. She might not comprehend many of his people's customs and laws, but she had lain with this man. She knew the grief he was feeling now in his soul. The sorrow, the regret. She knew because she could feel it herself. His failure had shaken Jafar profoundly. Not just because he might lose the vast power and position he held, but on a far deeper level. Because he had disHonoréd his beliefs, himself.
And he had done it for Gervase. Because of Gervase, Jafar's entire life might be shattered.
The injustice made her ache. She wished desperately there were something she could say to ease his pain. "You spared a man's life!" she murmured fiercely. "That can't be wrong."
He averted his gaze, staring off at the distance.
"It can't!"
Jafar wanted to wince at her quiet vehemence. Her defense of him had taken him aback, had touched him as nothing else had in a long while, but he could not accept the consolation she was trying to offer.
The silence lengthened.
"Well . . ."she said helplessly. After another long moment she added, "I should go. Forgive me, please, for interrupting you."
Alysson got slowly to her feet. At the door, however, she paused and looked back. "Jafar?" she said, her voice echoing softly across the empty hall. "What will happen afterward . . . after the prisoners are exchanged?"
Jafar did not want to face that question, or the others it raised. What would be Alysson's response when her fiancé was freed? Would she demand her own freedom? A freedom Jafar did not want to grant?
And yet hearing the troubled note in her voice, he knew he had to give her some kind of answer. "I told you, your precious Gervase will not be harmed," Jafar said grimly, forcing himself to look at her.
Oddly, she didn't seem entirely relieved. Instead, she regarded him searchingly. "Do you still mean to seek revenge for what his father did to yours?"