Unveiling the Sorceress

Amshazar stared at her, his gaze laden with speculative appraisal. It unnerved her. “The insignias of Karseedia.” He nodded to the mottled walnut case the servant had put on the floor. “I thought you might wish to familiarize yourself with them."

He made no move to open the box.

She nodded, taking in the look of his darkly handsome face, his strong body within its robe of darkest midnight sky. That morning, her glances in his direction had been surreptitious, but she was so surprised he had come alone, she found herself staring openly.

He met her gaze with candor and addressed her curiosity directly, his own stare tempered with amusement.

Her gaze dropped first.

She felt heat blossom beneath her skin. He had, of course, been very aware that she was observing him that morning, she realized, scolding herself for her transparency.

"Sibias will join us shortly,” he said, as he took his place on the cushions in front of her, folding his long limbs beneath him as he drew the box closer. “He is ... resting.” A smile passed over his lips, and he lowered his eyelids to mask his expression.

It made her curious, but she didn't comment.

"Let us examine these objects, and see if we can find reason in them.” Again, his remark seemed odd. From the box, he drew out several brass platters, inscribed heavily with symbols and images, and a massive beaten-copper goblet, which glowed warm and heavy in his hands.

She tried to draw her eyes away from the strong line of his thighs as he moved, visible through the linen of hi

s gown.

He began to speak about the inscriptions, drawing her attention to the details around the bowl of the goblet. “Here, you will notice that the temples of the gods and goddesses are represented."

He pointed to a series of small depictions of buildings, each topped by a likeness of the deity to which they were devoted. “The people of Karseedia have a special devotion to the god Hurda, who they believe has favored Karseedia in these adverse times."

He looked at her, waiting for her reaction.

"With no disrespect to the gods, Amshazar, but it seems we must watch ourselves and barter with our enemies, to survive in these adverse times.” She was unable to keep the cynical tone from her words. She expected a retort from him.

He smiled.

It was devastating.

"Quite so.” His eyes twinkled. He placed the goblet down on the low table between them, still smiling at her remark.

Oh, but he is an attractive beast, enemy or not.

His hands were strong and elegant, his long fingers loosely locked together in his lap. She craved the touch of them. If only it were he that I had to wed, she thought, and her face heated guiltily at the very idea.

"What is he like? Hanrah?” She jolted slightly at the sound of her own, rather nervous and unplanned question.

The silence that followed hung heavily in the chamber. He was watching her closely, his expression less guarded. Did he feel some compassion for her, she wondered.

"The Emperor is but a man,” he answered, eventually. His voice was quiet, controlled. “The potential is there, but he is only a man ... just as you are only a woman.” He emphasized every word.

A wave of instinctive objection swept through her body to flush into her face. However, something else quickly followed, something that had come in response to the tone of his voice as he had said “woman,” and the weight of his eyes on her body while he had said it.

Her lips softly closed.

His brows were lowered and he looked at her through narrowed eyes. His expression emphasized the implication of his words. Desire glinted heavily in his eyes.

She didn't want the moment to escape. It was as if they were suddenly unaffected by decorum or by pretense, and she must speak. “And you, Amshazar?"

He met her glance with understanding, acknowledging their meeting of minds. The atmosphere between them had intensified.

A silent thunderbolt rumbled in and flashed across her consciousness. Her blood began to race; her skin was fluttering with sensation. “What are you, Amshazar?"

He sat still for a split second of time, wherein their mutual desire was fully realized and weighted the atmosphere between them. Then, without reserve, he answered in a wryly-amused tone. “I am just a man, a man with normal instincts ... and desires."