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  It’s his fault—if he hadn’t given me that tickle-teaser I never would have been so bad! Never would have done those things, she thought mutinously.

  Her anger and fear and guilt got the best of her. Lifting her chin, she glared at him.

  “I order you to move and let me pass, slave,” she said in her best “I am a royal princess so you’d better obey” voice.

  Varin’s bronze eyes widened…then narrowed. He looked about to speak but then he simply shook his head and stood to one side.

  “As my Mistress wishes.” His deep voice was cold, with none of the humor she’d come to know and love and his face was as blank and impersonal as the metal mask he’d been wearing the first time she saw him.

  Brynn took one look at him and rushed past him, running into her chamber and slamming the door behind her before she threw herself on the bed and cried.

  Later…much later…she got up and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. The girl in the viewer had pale cheeks and a guilty look in her big, gray eyes as though she’d been caught stealing or swearing…or abusing herself.

  Brynn felt miserable but she knew who to blame for that and it wasn’t the huge warrior standing guard outside her door.

  It wasn’t Varin’s fault, what I did, she admitted to herself ruefully. He was trying to help me and I treated him like dirt—like a slave. I should apologize.

  Apologizing was something she didn’t see much of at the palace. Lords and Ladies and especially royals never admitted a fault—it was unheard of. Yet, at the convent she’d been taught humility along with guilt. And now she found she couldn’t leave either one behind, though she’d thought—for a time—that she might.

  Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her hair and looked at herself in the viewer. Yes, apologize—that was what she would do.

  But what does he think of me after what he saw? She didn’t know—didn’t want to know—but her fear and shame in facing him didn’t mean she could duck her responsibility.

  Going to the door of her chamber, she opened it and looked out. Varin was standing there as always, his jaw set, his eyes facing straight ahead. He wasn’t looking at her at all. Brynn had made almost no noise opening the door but somehow she knew he was aware of her anyway.

  “Varin?” she said in a small voice, looking up at him. “Varin, can…can I talk to you?”

  He simply stood there without answering, just as he had on the first night she’d dared to approach him.

  “Varin?” she said again, going out to stand in front of him.

  Still he looked straight ahead—it was as though someone had carved him out of rock.

  “Varin, please,” she whispered. “I…I was wrong. I shouldn’t have called you a slave.”

  “Why not, Mistress?” he rumbled, still looking straight ahead. “It is what I am—what I have always been and will always be. Just your slave, nothing more.”

  “Then…then you never want to be friends anymore?” Brynn felt tears rising in her eyes but she tried to push them back down.

  He said nothing.

  I’ve lost him, Brynn thought. I’ve hurt him and now he hates me. I’ve lost my only friend.

  “Varin,” she whispered. “I…I’m so s-sorry. I never meant…I…” A sob choked her and she couldn’t go on. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again and turned to flee back to her chamber.

  “Wait.” His deep voice stopped her before she could open the door. “Wait a minute, little one.”

  The tender nickname made her pause and look back hopefully. “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Come here.”

  He made a motion and Brynn went to stand before him once more, twisting her fingers together and looking down at the little rounded toes of her slippers, peeping out from beneath her dress.

  “No, not like that—look at me,” Varin insisted.

  “I can’t. Not…not after what I did,” Brynn whispered. “I just…can’t.”

  He blew out a breath.

  “Look, Princess, I’ve been called a hell of a lot worse than ‘slave’ in this palace since your father bought me. It won’t kill me to hear it one more time.”

  “But it wasn’t just that—although that was mean enough,” Brynn protested. “It was…” She cleared her throat, feeling a hot, miserable blush rise to her cheeks. “It was what I did…and how…how I let you see me doing it.” She risked a glance up at him. “You, uh, did see me, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, when I dreamed of you today I saw…” He frowned, shaking his head.

  “You saw what?” Brynn looked up at him again. His face was dark and worried looking.

  “I can’t explain it exactly but it wasn’t the usual dream. It wasn’t something you’d done or something you were doing. Unless—did you go walking in the flower gardens with your ladies today?”

  “No.” Brynn shook her head. “We stayed inside and did needlepoint until I thought my fingers were going to fall off. It was miserable.”

  “All right.” He nodded. “Because in my dream, the bunch of you were walking in the gardens and then, suddenly, a dark shadow fell over you—you and Amalthia.”

  “A shadow?” Brynn frowned. “Like a cloud passing over the sun?”

  “Not exactly…” He frowned. “I can’t explain it but I woke reaching for my sword. It felt like a threat.”

  “Oh…” Brynn put a hand to her mouth. “That’s so scary—especially after the dream I had last night!”

  “You need to be careful—especially any time I’m not with you,” Varin told her sternly. “There have been strange rumors lately—talk about alien scout ships from another sector. I heard the Master of Ships discussing it with the Minister of War the other day when they were down at the Arena placing wagers.”

  “Do you think…think something bad is going to happen?” Brynn asked softly.

  “I don’t know…but I do know I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from whatever comes, Princess.” He gave her a gentle look. “Try not to be worried. I’ll be right outside your door keeping guard all night. And I’m going to try to be assigned to you during the day too—I want to be as near as possible all the time if something’s going to happen.”

  “You’d do that for me? Even after what I did?” Brynn blurted.

  He frowned. “I will always protect you, no matter what. And I told you, I am a slave—it doesn’t matter that you called me what I am.”

  “It matters to me,” Brynn said softly. “Because I also call you friend and that’s much more important. But…” She bit her lip. “That wasn’t exactly what I was talking about.”

  “What then?” He looked honestly mystified.

  “I mean…what I did, um, last night,” Brynn clarified. “I…I was…when I was using the…” She shook her head, feeling miserable all over again. Her unhappy expression clearly registered with the big Kindred.

  “You mean when you used the tickle-teaser?” he asked, at last catching on. “Is that why you were so upset this morning?”

  “Of course it is!” Brynn burst out. “Do you know what they called that at the convent? Self abuse. And I…I did it over and over and over again.”

  “I know,” he said dryly. “I could hear you.”

  “Goddess above! Was I that loud?” Brynn felt like she wanted to sink into the stone flagstones of the floor with embarrassment.

  “You were pretty loud,” Varin admitted. “But there was no one to hear but me. And I have to admit…” One corner of his sensuous mouth curled up. “I kind of enjoyed hearing it. Sounded like you were having a lot of fun in there.”

  “But…so you don’t think I’m awful? I mean for…”

  “For having a little fun? For giving yourself pleasure? Hell no, little one. I told you—the Goddess gave us our equipment for a reason.”

  “But I…you told me to go under the covers,” Brynn felt compelled to confess. “But I didn’t. I…I took them off. And then I lifted my nightdress too. I…” She bit