Crucible of Fate

topic of conversation to be your dead husband’s brother?”
    “Yes. Please.”
    “Why would I want to discuss anything about him?”
    “Because we must.”
    I groaned. “Why?”
    We were friends after six months, so alone, behind closed doors, I could treat her however I liked. She was the mate of the last semel, his yareah, and I had saved her from losing any status at all after I killed him in the pit. Taking her as my mastaba, or mistress of my home, put her and her children under my protection. If I never had any offspring of my own, hers would be my heirs. And even though she had two girls and neither of them could ever be semel-aten, whoever was named next would then protect them as my progeny. It was all very tidy, and I liked it. So did she. But now there was a problem, one that she was apparently ready to talk about.
    “Because Elham was Ammon’s brother,” she said. “If he fights Crane in the pit and wins, when he becomes maahes he can ask you for me, and by rights, you cannot refuse him, as his lineage gives him prior claim.”
    “This is boring old news that I know already,” I retorted.
    “You’re not taking this seriously,” she volleyed back. “Where is your sylvan? He needs to give you his counsel.”
    “I don’t need my—”
    “Elham is going to become your maahes and take me from you if he beats Crane Adams in the pit.”
    “Crane can beat him.” I dismissed her concerns as I walked over to the enormous monstrosity of a desk that came with the whole semel-aten gig. It was all hand-carved out of some extinct wood that surely had been prettier shading a stream somewhere.
    “It’s not just a simple test of strength in the pit, you know.”
    My eyes flicked to hers.
    “You see,” she said as she threw up her hands. “You have no idea what—”
    A knock on the door stopped her.
    I growled and then yelled for whomever to enter.
    The door opened and Kabore Nour walked into the room. He was my steward, in charge of the villa and of my private staff. I got the feeling he didn’t approve of me, though it definitely had nothing to do with me being gay. He liked Yuri quite a bit, but then everyone did.
    “Yes?” I was irritable.
    “You have a visitor, my lord. Korneiley Church from Nevada. He requested an audience at once.”
    The cherry on the cake of my week. Koren.
    “Show him in.”
    There had been a time when my heart would have flipped over at the news that Koren Church was anywhere near me. I had been wildly, madly, desperately in love with him, and our on-again, off-again relationship had only added fuel to the fire. I had wanted him but couldn’t have him, he had wanted me but our timing was bad, and round and round it had gone. We were both stupid, both self-centered, and both of us had wanted the other to cave. The last time he walked away, though, had almost killed me. My heart had been too mangled and the jealousy eating away at it just not worth it. You couldn’t always wonder if the person you loved, loved you back. There was a time to simply know and be content in that knowledge.
    I stood when he walked in.
    He stopped by the door. The man was still very easy on the eyes. The short, thick blond hair, deep olive-green eyes, laugh lines, long and straight Roman nose, full lips, the gold of his skin, the grace of his movements… there was no missing his beauty.
    I opened my mouth to greet him as Samani Baro, hathen of my house, slipped past him into the room.
    “I must speak to you,” she said quickly.
    In that instant, I saw his eyes glide over the stunning woman—and he liked what he saw.
    Sometimes life gave you reminders without anyone else having to know. Stupidly, for a second, my heart had opened because it was so good to see him. But any words now were empty, as I had seen his interest in another. It was as simple as that. When I was in the room, Yuri saw no one else. I had gotten used to it, to being the most important thing. I would not give that up for anything.
    “I was—” Koren began.
    “Wait.” I stopped him, rounding on Samani, who had not been distracted at all by the beautiful man in our midst, her focus all on me.
    “Yes?”
    “The contingent from the tribe of Aswanet has barred me from checking on the concubines in their quarters. Your khatyu must break down the door to gain entrance, and nothing may be destroyed inside your home without your permission.”
    Why was I being bothered with such mundane crap? Didn’t she know I