Medieval 02 - Forbidden

touched by anyone. She glanced at Duncan, saw no comfort, and took Amber’s hand.
    Despite Amber’s preparation, the chaos of terror, humiliation, and betrayal that lay at Ariane’s core nearly brought Amber to her knees.
    Ariane was a woman of great passion, and all of it was dark.
    “Lady Ariane,” Duncan said, “are you sterile?”
    “No.”
    “Will you accept your duty as my wife?”
    “Yes.”
    Amber swayed, fighting the savage emotions that lay beneath the Norman girl’s rigid control.
    “Amber?” Duncan said.
    She didn’t hear. All she could hear was the vast scream of betrayal that filled Ariane’s core.
    “Amber.” Duncan’s voice was sharp.
    “She is—telling the truth,” Amber said raggedly.
    Then she let go of Ariane’s hand, for she could no longer bear the grief and fury that filled Ariane’s soul.
    It was too like Duncan’s.
    “Daughter, are you all right?” asked Cassandra.
    “What she feels is—bearable.”
    Ariane looked at Amber with dawning outrage.
    “You know,” Ariane said tightly. “ You know . Cursed witch, who gives you the right to harrow my soul?”
    “Silence,” Cassandra said savagely.
    She walked swiftly to the two women, her scarlet robes burning vividly against the black of Ariane’s clothes and the gold of Amber’s.
    “All that has been harrowed is Amber,” Cassandra said. “Look at her and know that whatever black fires burn you in secret have also burned her.”
    Ariane went white.
    “Know also that whatever your secret is,” the Learned woman continued, “it is secret still. Amber touches emotions, not facts.”
    Silence stretched while Ariane gazed at Amber, seeing the pallor of her face and the strained line of her mouth.
    “Emotions only?” Ariane whispered.
    Amber nodded.
    “Tell me,” the Norman woman said. “What do I feel?”
    “You can’t be serious.”
    “Nay. I thought I no longer had feelings. What do I feel?”
    It was the tone of simple curiosity that jarred Amber into replying.
    “Fury,” Amber whispered. “A scream never voiced. A betrayal so deep it all but killed your soul.”
    Silence stretched and stretched.
    Then Ariane turned to Duncan with contempt flashing in her narrowed eyes.
    “You have forced me to share what I have hidden even from myself,” she said. “You have forced her to endure what she never earned.”
    “I have a right to know the truth of our betrothal,” Duncan said.
    Ariane made a cutting gesture with one hand.
    “You have diminished my honor and the honor of the one you call your ‘weapon,’” she said tersely.
    Duncan’s open hand slammed down on the arm of the chair.
    “I have been betrayed by those I trusted,” he said in a clipped voice. “This is my way of being certain it doesn’t happen again.”
    “Betrayed,” Ariane repeated tonelessly.
    “Aye.”
    “We have that in common.” She shrugged. “But is it enough for marriage?”
    “We have no choice but to marry.”
    Duncan leaned forward, his eyes hard as stones.
    “Will you be a faithful wife,” he asked coldly, “loyal to your husband rather than to your Norman father?”
    Ariane studied Duncan’s fierce expression for a long moment before she turned to Amber.
    And held out her hand.
    “Yes,” Ariane said.
    “Yes,” Amber echoed.
    “Will that change if I take Amber as my leman, living in my keep and sharing my bed whenever I wish it?”
    Amber’s Learned discipline shattered. Even as Ariane’s relief and hope soared, Amber’s emotions all but overwhelmed the truth of what she was learning by touch.
    “Not at all,” Ariane said clearly. “I would welcome it.”
    Duncan looked surprised.
    “I will do my duty,” Ariane said in her coolvoice, “but I am repelled by the prospect of the marriage bed.”
    “Does your heart belong to another?” Duncan asked.
    “I have no heart.”
    Dark brown eyebrows lifted, but Duncan said only, “Amber?”
    Silence was Amber’s answer. She was too busy trying to control her own seething emotions to speak.
    Leman .
    Whore .
    Day after day, darkness condensing, destroying …
    Everything .
    “Well, witch?” Duncan asked.
    Amber forced air into her rigid body.
    “She tells the truth,” Amber said hoarsely. “All of it.”
    Duncan settled back with a curt nod and an expression that was as bleak as winter itself.
    “Then it is done,” he said. “We will be married on the morrow.”
    As though in answer, a wolf’s savage howl echoed from just beyond the