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A likely story! “Tell me then.”
“I cannot. Not now. Not here.”
Surprise, surprise! “Secrets?”
She nodded.
He spat out a particularly foul word.
She merely appeared saddened by his opinion of her, but he could not allow himself to soften with pity. Instead he told her some of the things he planned to do to her once he had her naked. With each description, her breathing heightened. He was not sure if she was panting with insult or arousal.
And he was beginning to wonder if he was serious or not.
Just then he noticed that the men were sauntering back to their seats; so Sidroc stood and began to move to the other side once again. Soon Ianthe would be returning as well.
But Thork—the rascal—said with a mock-serious face, “What was that I heard you say about licking?”
With an equally straight face, Sidroc replied, “I was telling Princess Drifa that the problem with honey on those lemon cakes over there is that you must keep licking your fingers for a long time after eating to remove the stickiness.”
Not one single man at the table believed him.
You could say it was a good-bye tup ...
“I did not mean to show you disrespect, Ianthe. I am so sorry,” Sidroc said as they left the Imperial Palace.
“Sidroc! You have never mistreated me. In truth, you have raised me up, and you know it.”
“You deserved my full attention tonight, and I let my animosity toward Princess Drifa cloud my judgment.”
Even though the palace gates closed at night, because of the imperial feast he’d been given special permission to escort Ianthe to her home above her jewelry shop. He nodded to the guards as they passed through.
Ianthe, whose arm was looped with his, gazed up at him with question. “What do you have against the princess? Other than her breaking your betrothal? That is what happened, is it not?”
“How would you know that?” He would bet his finest arm ring that the princess didn’t discuss the subject.
“Finn.”
“Humph! Finn’s mouth is bigger than his ego.”
“Do not blame him. I asked.”
“I am not so small-minded that I would begrudge a woman the right to change her mind. There is more to me and Drifa than that, but it is not a subject I wish to discuss now. There is something else I need to tell you.”
Although she was clearly anxious to hear what he had to say, she waited until she’d unlocked her door and they’d gone up the stairs, where she unlocked yet another door to her home. Inside were cozy living quarters that doubled as both a bedchamber and a salon, with the usual low divans on jewel-toned Persian carpets. Although there was a brazier, she had no need for a kitchen since she was able to purchase fresh-cooked meals daily down in the market. Besides, food spoiled quickly in this heat. In the winter, food could be stored in a cold cellar, but even then food stalls were open practically outside her front door.
He sat down in an armed chair, and she handed him a goblet of his favorite apricot wine with a slice of lemon in it. He’d been with her for two years now, and she knew his desires without asking. Desires of all kinds, by the by. Sidroc was a man of big appetites in the bedsport, and she matched him in enthusiasm, even when he asked her to do things that might make some women cringe. His tastes had been honed these five years of serving in foreign countries.
For some reason, he thought of Drifa then. Would she balk if he asked her to wear nipple rings? Or refuse to pose for him naked? Or be shocked if he told her to kneel on all fours?
Or how about near-public swiving? Behind this two-story building, a walled garden had been built that Ianthe cherished for its privacy and beauty. He liked the privacy, too, especially since they’d made some memorable love there a time or two. The possibility that a customer might walk in on them, though remote, gave an edge to their sexual activity.
“What troubles you, Sidroc? What is it you hesitate to tell me?” she asked, coming up to sit on hislap.
“I am leaving,” he said bluntly.
“Tonight?” She gasped. “You have a new mission?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I mean to leave Byzantium, for good.”
