Elishiba stared at him, sta
rtled.
"Master Sibias is on his way,” he announced. He had a sly, watchful expression on his face.
Before either she or Amshazar had time to respond, Sibias came into the room behind Patrino. The older man glared at Amshazar's back, mouthing silent words, seemingly annoyed.
Amshazar stood and quickly took his leave, giving her a fast, reassuring glance as he left the room, leaving the older man to take over the instruction.
She watched him go, both dazed and confused by the encounter. The nubile, Patrino, followed him out, closing the door after them. Who was he with, she asked herself—Sibias, or Amshazar?
Sibias quickly settled himself in the place Amshazar had left. He looked at the abandoned casket and then at Elishiba's distracted state. “I must ask you what has been said in my absence.” He pursed his mouth for a moment. “For the purposes of completion, you understand."
If she'd been at all assured of herself, she might have sparred with him, for she resented the demanding look in the old man's eyes. He was obviously aware of some heated atmosphere in the room and quizzed her, as if he had a right to know what had gone before, but Sibias's words went all but unheeded. Elishiba was trying to reconcile the confusion she felt. Amshazar had proven what they said of him, yet that had been nothing compared to what had passed between them. The strange emotions that had been unleashed by his words and actions were unbearable.
"You must forgive me, Sibias. I have to leave you now. I feel unwell.” She stood up and walked from the room with as much dignity as she could, and with Sibias's unconvincing murmurs of concern echoing behind her. As soon as she made her way down the corridor and into her chamber, she ran inside and called for Elra.
"Let no one in, I wish to be alone,” she begged, when her companion appeared.
Elra dropped the sewing in her hand. “Yes, Empress, your will is done."
Elishiba ran to her private chamber and threw herself onto her bed. Her hands trembled; her mind was awash with questions. What had Amshazar meant about powers being within her reach? What had happened to her in his presence?
Her own vulnerability astonished her.
She felt thoroughly disarmed by the desire he had aroused in her, and huddled against the bed covers. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she tried to cast off the powerful sensations rushing through her.
His image had begun to creep within her blood and bond itself to her emotions. A seed of fear lodged itself within her heart, beginning to grow. Could it be that Amshazar had woven a spell over her?
Her hands fisted against the bedcovers. How could she have allowed her emotional drawbridges to lower? He was her enemy. She ought not to feel this way about such a man. She pressed her face into the cushions, and wished it all away, but for some reason the gods didn't respond to that particular prayer.
Instead, waves of desire assailed her, growing with every moment, and she buried her face against the bed, her body aching with forbidden need. It was then that she felt his presence returning, pacing out of the shadows to meet her: Amshazar, mysterious and forbidden. Elishiba felt his dark form brush against the glowing embers of her passion.
Her eyes flashed open, but she was alone.
Chapter Five
Sibias snatched the note from the sentry who had delivered it, and read it with blazing eyes as the messenger departed. Amshazar continued to eat his breakfast, observing with cautious detachment. Sibias was in a temper, had been ever since yesterday's little interruption to his planned pontifications. Adept in the darker side of the art of sorcery, Sibias hid his black soul quite skillfully, but when he was thwarted, as he had been the day before, that black soul was all too apparent to Amshazar.
Sibias had made it known that his sudden need for sleep after their midday meal the day before was suspicious. Mistrustful of most everyone around him in this alien province, as well as of Amshazar himself, he could not fix upon the culprit. It was a simple spell on Amshazar's behalf, gaining him valuable time alone with Elishiba, but Sibias had been fuming ever since.
Sibias crumpled the parchment between his hands and threw it aside. “In response to my request, the empress has refused to spend her last day in Suzin continuing the interrupted class from yesterday."
Amshazar glanced down at the older man's hands, where he could see that his fingernails were embedded into his palms. His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes spewing hatred.
"You will have her locked within the walls of Mehmet's palace soon enough, Sibias,” he commented.
Sibias didn't miss the reference to it being Mehmet's palace, his eyes flashing in annoyed recognition of the remark. No one was supposed to actually acknowledge it aloud and reveal Mehmet's hidden manipulations, oh no.
"We had a task to undertake. We didn't come all this way to waste what little time we have to prepare her.” He glared at Amshazar, and then stormed over, slamming his fist down on the table. “What was it that you said to her yesterday that made her take flight?"
Amshazar reached out to steady the rattling platters on the table, before answering. “We spoke about the insignia of Karseedia."
Rising to his feet, he cast his trailing robe over his shoulder. “The Empress was unwilling to accept the information we were giving at face value. She is an intelligent woman, and she is more concerned about meeting her future husband."
He forced a smile at that point. “I suggest we allow her to get used to that idea, before swamping her with other, unnecessary information."
Sibias's eyes turned black. His inflated opinion of himself meant that he was unable to accept advice from anyone. Most didn't try to give it, either.