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"Two questions," Brandin, Tyrant of the Western Palm, had asked, reaching for the hand she'd left on the table"Do you think you have power, my Dianora?"
She'd expected that"Only through you, and for the little time remaining before I grow old and you cease to grant me access to you A small slash at Solores there, but discreet enough, she judged"But so long as you command me to come to you I will be seen to have power in your court, and poets will say I am more lovely now than I ever wasMore lovely than the diadem of stars that crowns the crescent of the girdled world or whatever the line was
"The curving diadem, I think he wroteShe'd expected a compliment then, for he was generous with thoseHis grey eyes had remained sober though, and directHe said, "My second question: Would I be attractive to you without the power that I wield?"
And that, she remembered, had almost caught her outIt was too unexpected a question, and far too near to the place where her twin snakes yet lived, however dormant they might be
She'd lowered her eyelashes to where their hands were twinedLike the snakes, she thoughtShe backed away quickly from that thoughtLooking up, with the sly, sidelong glance she gucci bags leather knew he loved, Dianora had said, feigning surprise: "Do you wield power here? I hadn't noticed
A second later his rich, life-giving laughter had burst forthThe guards outside would hear it, she knewEveryone in Chiara talked; the Island fed itself on gossip and rumorThere would be another tale after tonightNothing new, only a reaffirmation in that shouted laughter of how much pleasure Brandin of Ygrath took in his dark Dianora
He'd carried her to the bed then, still amused, making her smile and then laugh herself at his moodHe'd taken his pleasure, slowly and in the myriad of ways he'd taught her through the years, for in Ygrath they were versed in such things and he was, then and now, the King of Ygrath, over and above everything else he was
And she? On her balcony now in the springtime morning sunlight Dianora closed her eyes on the memory of how that night, and before that night, for years and years before that night, and after, after even until now, her own rebel body and heart and mind, traitors together to her soul, had slaked so desperate and deep a need in him
In Brandin of YgrathWhom she had come here to kill twelve years ago, twin snakes around the wreckage of her heart, for dior big bags having done what he had done to Tigana which was her home
Or had been her home until he had battered and leveled and burned it and killed a generation and taken away the very sound of its name
She was Dianora di Tigana Bren Saevar and her father had died at Second Deisa, with an awkwardly-handled sword and not a sculptor's chisel in his handHer mother's spirit had snapped like a water reed in the brutality of the occupation that followed, and her brother, whose eyes and hair were exactly like her own, whom she had loved more than her life, had been driven into exile in the wideness of the worldHe'd been fifteen years old
She had no idea where he was all these years afterIf he was alive, or dead, or far from this peninsula where tyrants ruled over broken provinces that had once been so proudWhere the name of the proudest of them all was gone from the memory of menIn whose arms she had lain so many nights through the years with such an ache of need, such an arching of desire, every time he summoned her to himWhose voice was knowledge and wit and grace to her, water in the dryness of her daysWhose laughter when he set it free, when she could draw it forth from him, was like the healing louis vuitton bags in uk sun slicing out of cloudsWhose grey eyes were the troubling, unreadable color of the sea under the first cold slanting light of morning in spring or fall
In the oldest of all the stories told in Tigana it was from the grey sea at dawn that Adaon the god had risen and come to Micaela and lain with her on the long, dark, destined curving of the sandDianora knew that story as well as she knew her name
She also knew two other things at least as well: that her brother or her father would kill her with their hands if either were alive to see what she had becomeAnd that she would accept that ending and know it was deservedHer heart would scald her at the very thought of her brother so, even if death might spare him a grief so final as seeing where she had come, but each and every morning she prayed to the Triad, especially to Adaon of the Waves, that he was overseas and so far away from where tidings might ever reach him of a Dianora with dark eyes like his own in the saishan of the Tyrant
Unless, said the quiet voice of her heart, unless the morning might yet come when she could find a way to do a thing here on the Island that would still, despite all that had happened, despite the tiffany jewellery intertwining of limbs at night and the sound of her own voice crying aloud in need assuaged, bring back another sound into the worldInto the voices of men and women and children all over the Palm, and south over the mountains in Quileia, and north and west and east beyond all the seas
The sound of the name of Tigana, goneGone, but not, if the goddesses and the god were kind, if there was any love left in them, or pity, not forever forgotten or forever lost
And perhaps, and this was Dianora's dream on the nights she slept alone, after Scelto had massaged and oiled her skin and had gone away with his candle to sleep outside her door, perhaps it would come to pass that if she could indeed find a way to do this thing, that her brother, far from home, would miraculously hear the name of Tigana spoken by a stranger in a world of strangers, in some distant royal court or bazaar, and somehow he would know, in a rush of wonder and joy, in the deep core of the heart she knew so well, that it was through her doing that the name was in the world again
She would be dead by thenShe had no doubts as to thatBrandin's hate in this one thing, in the matter of his vengeance for Stevan, was fixed and vintage rolex watch unalterab |
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