“Sleep, my Circe,” he murmured, his arm around me tightening.
“You must regain your strength.”
“Where are the children?” I asked in a drowsy voice, my eyelids drifting up and down, wanting to adhere to his command at the same I wanted an answer.
“In their beds, where they will always sleep. This is our bed, my golden queen,” Lahn replied, my eyes drifted closed but before I drifted away, I heard him finish on a murmured afterthought,
“Unless my golden Isis is troubled. Then she will have her father.”
I floated away thinking, oh man.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Resurrection
Six weeks later…
“Circe! I just don’t know what to do with you!” Diandra cried, staring at me with unconcealed impatience and I lifted my hand to cup the dark head on top of the tiny sleeping body strapped to my chest.
“Diandra!” I hissed, “Shush!” My eyes slid side to side around the bustling marketplace me and my posse were wandering through.
“You’ll wake Tunahn or people might hear.”
I heard a slight giggle and my eyes moved to Sabine who was standing very close to Zahnin and also by Narinda who had Isis strapped to her chest over her own little baby bump. Then my gaze moved through Claudine, Nahka, Anastasie, Oahsee, Char and Vuntus who quickly looked away, pressing their lips together, turning their dancing eyes and feigning avid interest at a stall that held a variety of leather straps men could wear across their chests.
Diandra got close to me and laid her hand on mine on Tunahn’s head and she hissed back, “I do not want to disturb your little warrior but I do not care if people hear! This cannot go on.”
At Diandra’s not-so-gentle questioning, I had hesitantly just shared with her (and my posse) that even after the touching scenes after our children were born, things had not changed between Lahn and me.
This was mostly because I was caught up in suddenly being a mother of two in a primitive world and deciding, even if I had slaves who could not wait to get their mitts on my babies, this would be hands on.
Not to mention, considering I was nursing them both, and Tunahn seemed to want to feed continuously, I had no choice for it to be hands on.
Therefore, I was exhausted, constantly running around and had one or two children in my arms (or attached to my body) almost all the time. Even half the night. And when this wasn’t happening, I was trying to catch up on sleep or bolting down food because nursing made you ravenous.
So I didn’t see my husband a lot, partly because I was busy and partly because I was doing my all to avoid him (thus wandering the marketplace with my posse and the many walks I would take with my kids to be amongst my people and to work off my baby weight) because when he was with our kids, especially Isis, the way he doted on her (and both of them, really, but early warning signs showed Princess Isis was going to be Daddy’s Little Girl) sent that warm sweetness through me so strong, sometimes it was a wonder I kept my feet.
And this didn’t take into account the way he doted on me.
Dax Lahn was proud of his family and he made no bones about it.
As he would be mostly because I dug my heels in his shoulders as payback in the heat of the moment. I’d forgotten that my Mom’s Mom had been a twin and I’d researched this ages ago to discover what it might mean to my future and found it was the woman who was genetically predisposed to carrying twins.
So it was my fault-ish, or, more accurately, my boon.
I did not share this information with anyone and therefore everyone was crowing their Dax was not only mightiest but also the most virile, seeing as his other powerful sword sired two children on me. They had no idea it was me who was predisposed to it and released two eggs his swimming warriors could fertilize. They wouldn’t get it even if I tried to explain and, it must be said, Lahn himself seemed pretty freaking pleased with the results of our union so I didn’t have the heart to explain.
This was all also, I was not admitting to myself, my defense mechanism against a husband who had injured me deeply but whose
unrelenting sweetness was healing a wound I had stubbornly refused to allow to heal.
But now, I had forgiven him and I just didn’t know how to tell him that. And the tables were turning. The longer I procrastinated, the more it was becoming less a matter of me telling him I forgave him and more me needing to be forgiven for my delay in letting my savage brute off the hook.
Why did I always do this?
God, I was so freaking stupid!
And now, because I was stupid, about three weeks ago Lahn’s sweetness started to hold an edge of impatience, that edge grew, spread, built and honed and now it was long and very sharp, like the side of his sword.
Yes. So. Freaking. Stupid.
“The Dax is in a foul mood,” Diandra snapped, pulling my attention from me being stupid back to her pointing out the results of my stupidity, “and this foul mood might come home with him but it also spreads and, being the Dax, when it spreads, it spreads far and it spreads wide. I can assure you that if he shares his frustration with you at home, you can take this a hundredfold at how he shares it with his warriors and anyone close enough to receive the lash of his tongue.” She leaned into me. “I can assure you of this because Seerim told me that King Lahn is surrounded by an aura of black and everyone, be they warrior, trainee, free man or slave, is giving him and his aura a very wide berth. ”
Oh man.
Being Diandra, she kept at me. “And, I would say, that Dax being Dax Lahn it is a good possibility that lash might graduate to the tip of a whip or the edge of steel should you carry on much longer holding your grudge and withholding your charms. The man is practically begging for a challenge or some reason to unleash some of his impatience on someone and the only thing I know is that someone will not be you. ”
Oh man!
Before I could even open my mouth, she kept right on going.
“What I’d like to know is, are you willing to be responsible for one of the trainee warriors not buffing his saddle to a deep enough shine and having his back opened up for this perceived mistake?”
No. One could say I didn’t want that, like, not at all.
Though I was surprised Lahn had his saddle buffed. I didn’t think a savage brute would care about something like that.
“No, Diandra,” I whispered and my hand curled tighter on my son’s head because, really, I was so… fucking… stupid!
