03 - The Eternal Rose by Gail Dayton Read Free Book Online

give up when things got hard and because eventually, her body filled out and learned to do what she demanded of it, Leyja had become a bodyguard. She had moved up rapidly, becoming bodyguard to the Reinine herself.
    At that moment, when the Reinine had held out her hand in greeting and smiled, Leyja fell in love. She had loved Serysta Reinine with a pure and silent love for a double hand of years. The day that love blossomed, when Leyja had learned not only did Serysta love her in return, but that she wanted her in the same way she wanted Keldrey and the others was the day Leyja learned what joy truly was.
    And the day Serysta Reinine died in her arms was the day Leyja learned about pain. It was also the day Leyja was marked by the One and she learned the consolation and comfort of God. Gradually the numbness and grief wore away and Leyja woke to realize she loved again.
    It wasn't the same wild emotion, with the ecstatic highs, bottomless lows and desperate passion, because Leyja wasn't the same. Those she loved were different also—save for Keldrey and she'd always felt as much amused exasperation as affection for him. This love didn't burn. It warmed. It healed. Even the passion she'd found with Aisse comforted rather than consumed.
    Perhaps it was because the object of Leyja's passion and the object of her devotion were not the same. Leyja loved Kallista in a different fashion than she loved Aisse. Kallista was Reinine. She was naitan.
    She could forge the metal of their magic into any tool that was needed, from shield to healer's needle to sword. Then she could take that magic and twine it around and through the marked ones without even touching—though it was better when they did touch—and make them scream with the pleasure of it.
    And then there were the children.
    Leyja's gaze passed over the children again, always moving, registering everything as she scanned their surroundings. The grain fields were stubbled dun after harvest. Other fields looked to be covered with rows of dead, brown, snow-filled brush. Harvest-ready cotton, according to Keldrey, who'd grown up in the warm southern plains of Adara.
    Between road and river, the fields held sway, even as they neared the city. To their right, away from the muddy river banks, the cottages and homes of farmers and small villagers gave way to large sandstone-andgranite estates. The workers in the fields were servants now rather than owners of the land.
    The sand-colored walls of Mestada loomed before them. The Daryathi government, abetted by the diplomats Kallista had had to bring along, wanted them to camp outside the city walls overnight so they could enter the city in a grand processional parade. Kallista had refused.
    She would parade twice around the city tomorrow if they liked, on her way to meet with the en-Kameral, but tonight would be spent in the comfort of the Adaran embassy. Or rather, the mansion next to the embassy that had been hurriedly purchased and added to embassy property in preparation for the Reinine's visit. The previous embassy would never have held all the people she brought with her—the troops and bureaucrats, diplomats and bodyguards, not to mention the Reinine's entire family.
    The primary reason for Kallista's refusal, the one she hadn't shared with the Daryathi, was that she did not want the children exposed to public scrutiny. No one could miss a caravan the size of this one. Everyone would know who entered the city. But with their faces veiled against the pervasive, invasive dust that coated everyone—ruler, soldier and servant alike—it would be more difficult for an enemy to mark who was who. And tomorrow, during the processional—only once around the city—the children would stay safely tucked inside their quarters.
    Leyja spurred her mount, riding alongside the Reinine's duty bodyguard—Jondi, today—to be first behind the troops through the gate. It was dark and cool in the deep, long shadow beneath the thick city wall, and