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  He frowned. “Are you asking if I’ve been spying on you as you bathed, Princess?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. “No, I…I meant in your dreams.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, his bronze eyes inscrutable.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, be-because,” Brynn stammered. “Because I, uh, I saw…” She broke off, blushing so hard she felt like her cheeks might catch on fire.

  “Yes?” He cocked his head to one side, clearly waiting for her to finish.

  “Because I saw you bathing. In my dreams,” she rushed on recklessly, wanting to get it all out. “And…and that’s not all I saw you doing!”

  “Oh? And what did you see?” he growled softly.

  The way he was looking at her was positively hungry. Brynn felt a shiver go through her but somehow she couldn’t stop.

  “I saw you…saw you, uh, touching yourself,” she blurted. “Down…down there.” She pointed one finger at the bulge in the leather crotch and felt like her hair might catch on fire from her flaming cheeks.

  “So you saw me stroking my shaft in your dreams.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling, as though it was of no great importance. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Well…stop it of course!” Brynn exclaimed, shocked that he would even have to ask. “I mean, these dreams—they’re true, right? I…I’m seeing what’s really happening…what you’re really doing during the day when I’m off having dancing lessons and royal etiquette practice and other foolish things I have to do with my ladies in waiting.”

  “Princess,” he growled, frowning at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking. A male has needs. So does a female, for that matter.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re going to tell me that you’ve never touched yourself for pleasure?”

  “You…you know I haven’t!” Brynn couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was so terribly improper and yet somehow she couldn’t seem to extricate herself from it. “You know I haven’t because you see me in your dreams too!” she accused him. “You see everything. When I eat, when I sleep, when I bathe…”

  “Ah, so we’re back to that.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, little one, I’ve seen you naked.”

  “Don’t call me that!” she flared, suddenly angry because the thought of him seeing her naked made her feel hot and flushed all over. “My name is Princess Brynnalla of Galen and you know it!”

  “Yes, I know it,” he said softly, looking down at his chest where her name was burned into his flesh. “Better than most. But I also know I can’t help what I see in my dreams—any more than you can help what you see in yours.”

  “But…but what can we do about it? To stop it, I mean. It’s so…so embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing for you to see me naked? Or embarrassing for me to see you naked?” he rumbled. “Because it doesn’t bother me, little one—not a bit. You’re beautiful.”

  “No, I’m not!” she exclaimed, stung into refuting his lie. “I’m not anything like the other girls at Court! I’m too short and too little and my breasts are…” She broke off abruptly, suddenly aware of the terrible impropriety she was committing.

  “Your breasts are perfect for your size and your size is perfect for you,” Varin said softly. “And no, you don’t look like the other females at Court—that’s part of what makes you so Goddess-damned gorgeous.”

  “What?” She looked at him in surprise. “You don’t mean that—you can’t! My hair is all—”

  “Soft and silky…” He reached out a hand as though to touch it, then drew back reluctantly. With a short, frustrated breath he put his hands to his sides. Brynn noticed him balling them into fists, as though he was holding himself back from touching her by main force of will.

  She bit her lip and took a step back but didn’t leave the hallway. What was going on here? She didn’t know what to think of what he was saying—did he really see her that way? Beautiful even though she was different—beautiful because she was different?

  “I’m different too, little one,” he said softly, as though reading her mind. “Not everybody’s meant to fit in. It would be a boring universe if they did.”

  “You’re a Kindred,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Whatever that is.”

  “And you’re a princess.” He smiled at her—a slight quirking of the corner of his mouth and his bronze eyes looked almost sleepy with amusement. “A beautiful princess who has the world at her feet. Why should you care about the dreams of a slave?”

  “Because they’re my dreams too,” Brynn whispered, twisting her fingers together. “And because…because they’re wrong.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked gently. “The fact that I’ve seen you bathing…or the fact that you’ve seen me, uh, doing more than bathing?”

  “Both.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “What were you doing, anyway? I mean…when you were…were…”

  “Yes?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “When you were touching yourself, you…” she paused, trying to think how to go on. Her cheeks were getting red again and she could feel embarrassment trying to overcome her but she needed to know.

  “Yes?” he asked again, making a go-on motion with one big hand.

  “Your…your shaft got all…it got…it looked so hard,” Brynn stammered. “And then it, uh, jerked and all this…all this white cream came out. What…what was that?”

  “Goddess above, give me strength.” He raised his eyes to the vaulted stone ceiling and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Finally he looked back at Brynn. “Didn’t they teach you anything at that convent you were at?” he demanded.

  “Of course they did,” Brynn said indignantly. “I learned natural history and mathematics and language and—”

  “I meant didn’t they teach you how a male and female come together?” he said, cutting her off.

  “Oh, um…you mean to make a baby?”

  He nodded. “Or just for pleasure.”

  Brynn bit her lip, feeling suddenly hot and flushed all over. “No,” she said at last. “The, uh, Sisters told us that was forbidden knowledge. That the male our fathers picked for us to join with would tell us. Would…” She cleared her throat. “Would show us.”

  “So they just expect you to go off with some strange male without even knowing what to expect?” Varin sounded angry now.

  “I suppose.” Brynn shrugged. “Why—is that bad?”

  “Depends on the male.” There was a growl in his deep voice now and a glint in his bronze eyes, as though he didn’t much like the idea of Brynn with a “strange male” as he had put it.

  “There’s been talk that my father is looking for a husband for me,” she said, looking up at Varin. “I would have ruled in his stead if he and my mother hadn’t had the Crown Prince after I was born. But since they have a son, they…they don’t need me. So my father wants to find someone to take me off his hands as soon as possible, I think.”

  “I know.” His big fists squeezed tighter. “Goddess damn it, I fucking know.”

  “I…I don’t want to get married…joined…unprepared,” Brynn said softly. “And I can’t ask anyone else—they’d be shocked or…or laugh at me. So…will you tell me?”

  It was a question she never could have asked her ladies in waiting, though Brynn had a feeling all of them knew the answer already. But if she asked Lady Amalthia what to expect on her joining night the other girl would no doubt go into gales of laughter and then tell on her to the Queen. And whatever else happened, Brynn did not want her mother to know that she was curious about what went on during one’s wedding night.

  “Will you?” she asked again, almost begging now.

  He sighed. “I shouldn’t…don’t want to shock you. Considering how you’ve been raised…”

  “I’ve led a sheltered life, that’s true,” Brynn said, lifting her chin. “But I’m not stupid—just ignorant. And that’s because I’ve been