Page 30 of The Maiden

She could feel his anger, but it was no stronger than her own.

“We must talk,” he said through his teeth.

“I have nothing to say that has not been said,” she answered.

“Damn you,” he raged. “This is your fault for enticing me to believe you wanted me.”

For all the man looked nothing like Thal, he sounded like him. Thal never believed any wrong had been caused by him but was always others’ fault. “One does not confuse lust with wanting marriage,” she said calmly. “I may lust after a well-formed blacksmith but I would not wish to marry him.”

“I am your king, not a blacksmith.”

She stared at him. “You are not my king. You are an Englishman who, because of some cruel jest of the gods, has been made my husband. There are ways for our marriage to be dissolved.”

Rowan got up and walked to the narrow arrow slit that passed for a window at the far end of the room. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I have looked into that, but I’m afraid it will not be possible. At least not yet, not when the Honorium is so fresh in people’s minds.” He paused and Jura saw him hunch his shoulders together. “I curse the day my father met my mother. I wish she had married a serf rather than a Lanconian. Always, being a prince has been a grief to me, but this is the worst.” He spoke so low that she barely heard him.

He turned back toward her. “I am going to unite the tribes of Lanconia, and I fear the Irials will not follow me if I set aside the half-sister of their old king’s son.”

Jura smiled at him. “Unite the tribes of Lanconia? And will you also move the Tarnovian Mountains? Perhaps you would like them a little farther south. Or maybe you’d like to move the rivers.”

His eyes shot blue fire at her. “Why did I allow my body to rule my head? Why did I not have one minute’s conversation with you before calling the Honorium?”

“You called it? I thought Thal ordered it to give all the tribes a chance at the English prince.”

“Fool that I was, I called it, as it was the only hope I had of obtaining you. I was sure you would win.”

One moment Jura was standing still and the next she was leaping at him with her hands made into fists. “You injured my friend Cilean merely for your lust?” she screamed at him. “You broke my engagement to Daire because of your japing lusts?”

He caught her as she flew at him, his back hitting the stone wall. He was so angry at her, insanely angry, viciously angry, but the moment he touched her his anger turned to desire. He enveloped her in his arms and his mouth crushed down on hers, and Jura responded to him, her body seeming to try to make itself dissolve into his. Her arms went about his neck, pulling him closer as her mouth opened under his. Her anger, her despair, her loneliness turned into desire for him. She was his to do with as he would.

Suddenly, he pushed her from him and Jura went sprawling onto the hard stone floor.

“We must talk,” he said through his teeth.

He was panting like a hard-run horse as he looked down at her. A beam of sun came through the arrow slit and lighted the back of his head. “I curse you, Jura,” he said, his jaw hard. “I made a vow before God that I’d not touch you and I will not.”

Jura was trying to recover her senses. “We are married now,” she said. Whatever problems she had with his logic, she had none with her wanting of him.

“Then you must beg me,” he said.

“I must what?” she said, rising.

“If you want me in your bed, you must beg me.”

Jura blinked at him. “Is this one of your English customs? Do you make your soft Englishwomen beg? Is that a way to further humiliate them and to make yourself feel powerful? Lanconian men need not make their women grovel. Lanconian men are men.”

His anger was back and he took a step toward her then moved away, rather like one did when one moved too close to a fire. “I made a vow to God and I will not break it. Now, we have things to discuss.”

“I have nothing to discuss with you,” Jura said, and started for the door.

He caught her arm but released it instantly. “Sit,” he ordered.

With a shrug, Jura obeyed.

Rowan turned away from her and began pacing. “However it happened, through what mean turn of fate, you and I are married. I could dissolve the marriage if the circumstances were different, if I were not half English and therefore suspect or if you were not related to Geralt. But I cannot release us from this marriage; therefore, we will have to make concessions. Tomorrow I leave to go to the Vatell tribe to talk with their leader and you must go with me.”

Jura stood. “I most certainly will not.”

Rowan stood in front of her and leaned down until his nose was nearly touching hers. “I do not trust you to not try to gather an army to put that loud, arrogant brother of yours on the throne. I will have you near me—both of you—so that I can see what you are doing.”