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I stand and follow him out of the room, towards the small central yard. I see her sitting on a lounge chair in the shade. As I slide open the glass door, Kiristen stops me with a hand on my arm. “I will give you privacy for this talk. Please tell ma I will wait for her in the drone.”
“Ok.”
I step outside and make my way towards Merostena. She stands at my approach, and I greet her with a palm to her chest, followed by a bow. “Merostena, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”
She gazes at me sadly. “I have come, Melinda, to explain things to you and beg for your forgiveness.”
Puzzled, I gesture for her to sit down and take a seat on a nearby lounger. I wait for her to speak. She’s silent for a few beats, then gathers the courage to look me in the eye. “Melinda, it is a very shameful thing to admit, but I have harbored jealousy of you ever since you caught Kirimor’s eye. You see, I have loved him many, many sun rotations, but I know he has never returned those feelings. I took comfort in the knowledge that I was his lead drasha and the mother of his two eldest children, that I was his companion for life even if he did not feel romantic love for me.”
She clasps her hands in her lap. “Then you came along, and it was clear that Kirimor had fallen head over heels in love with you. When he announced that he was stepping down as sicortar and releasing us from our duties as drashas, I felt bereft. I am ashamed to say I felt anger towards you for taking him from us. Then came that day when he went into a holy trance and came out of it in a mad sexual rage. He was beating himself up against the wall and raging. He kept saying your name over and over. Sholinar became concerned that he was going to seriously injure himself and ordered me to bring a drasha to him. I saw my chance. All morning, I had scented Pirofena, and I knew she was in her breeding time. Cleotola wanted to put herself forward for the task, but I insisted it had to be Pirofena. I nearly dragged the poor girl to the temple in my haste. You see, I knew in my heart that having Kirimor breed her would drive a wedge between you and him. It was very wrong of me. I know that. I am so sorry, Melinda. I would like to ask for your forgiveness, and if you are unable to give it, then at the very least forgive Kirimor. He is heart sick for you.”
Throughout this speech, I’ve been listening, horror stricken. So this happened on purpose, not by accident. This woman sitting in front of me purposely put a dagger into my heart in a fit of jealousy.
Can I ever forgive her? I take a deep breath in and try to center myself. Do I want to hold on to hate and resentment? No. It will only poison my life.
“What you did was very wrong and very hurtful. You achieved your ends, but somehow I doubt it brought you what you wanted.”
“No,” she agrees, “it did not.”
“I will forgive you Merostena, but I don’t think I can forget. I will ask you please, henceforth, to stay out of my life and stay out of my business.”
She nods in acquiescence. I stand, the interview over. She stands too. “Go in peace, Melinda.”
“Go in peace. Kiristen awaits you in the drone.”
She inclines her head and turns to go. I watch her leave, then I set about the usual tasks of my day, my heart heavy.
Chapter 46
Wyatt
I’m sitting in the auditorium, desultorily watching a rehearsal for our first night of ballet performances. My communicator is never out of my hands as I send and respond to messages. We still have a run of performances to do in Ven and Driskia, and ten million and one things to organize. I’m so focused on my task that I don’t notice a person take a seat next to me until he flicks his tail in my direction.
I look up and see Kirimor. My rival. My nemesis. The man who captured the heart of the woman I love. But also the man who saved my life. I shouldn’t forget that. Instead of a scowl, I simply give him a cold look. “Kirimor, what can I do for you?”
“Wyatt, I want to congratulate you on the success of your venture. I thoroughly enjoyed the Ricky Charles concert, and I hear good things about the dramatic performances you put on these last few rotations.”
“Thank you.”
He looks across at the dancers on the stage and frowns. “Does it not hurt them to dance on the tip of their toes?”
I laugh. “A little maybe, but they are used to it. They wear special shoes called pointe shoes that give their toes support.”
“I see.”
He is quiet as he watches a couple of dancers perform a pas de deux. Finally, he turns back to me. “Wyatt, there is something I would like to ask you.”
I raise a brow. “Yes?”
“I would like to make a grand gesture to show Melinda how much I love her.”
My expression cools. “And?”
“And I would like your help to make that happen.”
I snicker. “You want me to help you win back the woman I love? You’re kidding, right?”
“I am deadly serious.”
