19.7

It was already late in the afternoon when Zyrdicia materialized, weary and bloodless in Castle Blackpool. She had been gone all night, and most of the next day. She fully expected the length of her absence to have made last night's ugly situation even worse.

She stopped at Dirk's chamber door. She could smell his scent from the passageway. She knew he was inside. She knocked lightly. For her, it was uncharacteristic. She almost never bothered to knock, usually simply assuming she was welcome. She knew that habit irritated him, and was trying to minimize such an effect right now.

"Come!"

She took a deep breath, then entered.

He walked out of his sleeping chamber into the antechamber as though expecting to see Cai or some other servant. For a brief instant, he looked genuinely surprised. "Hi."

She closed the door then leaned back against it. She was so damned tired she could hardly stand. "Are you still mad at me?" she asked cautiously.

"You were the one who fled in a fit of rage," he answered icily.

"But I came back this time without you coming after me."

He crossed his arms, unimpressed. His eye had a cold gleam. "Where were you?"

"Lyr."

"Portia says otherwise. In fact, your servants could find no one there who had seen you in weeks."

"I was in a place there where they couldn't have found me if they had tried. After fighting with you, I wanted to be alone," she lied. "I lost track of time."

She yawned. Her head rolled to one side, suddenly too heavy for her blood-drained body to lift.

"What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing!" she assured automatically, forcing herself to wake up. She removed her gloves and cloak and tossed them on a nearby chair.

He glared at her skeptically. She sighed unhappily. She wanted this whole episode to be over. Here was the same issue that had set it all off last night.

She leaned against the door again. "I didn't come back to argue. Last night you got too close to something I don't want to deal with right now. Please let it go!"

"Too close to what?" he demanded.

"I'll tell you everything someday. For now I just want to sleep."

"You want to sleep?" he repeated, incredulous.

"Once in a while, of course."

"At five o'clock in the evening?"

"Yes."

"You hardly sleep at all, ever. Why suddenly now?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Because I'm tired. It's been known to happen!" she replied defensively.

"I have only rarely known you to want to sleep during hours of darkness - and never this early."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do. I want to go to sleep. Now."

"Then you should return to your own quarters to rest," he said pointedly.

"My own quarters?" she repeated as though she were not quite sure where that might be. Seeing his unyielding expression, she argued, "But I can't."

"You can't?"

"I can't," she repeated. "Because I need--"

"What?"

"You to hold me until I fall asleep," she confessed quietly, her eyes pleading.

He arched an eyebrow in surprise and jeered, "First fairy stories, now this?"

"Same thing, really. I cannot fall asleep with anyone else anymore." She rested her open palms on the leather at his chest, expecting him to humor her. The look on his face told her the emotional wounds from last night had yet to heal. "Please?" she implored.

"No," he said firmly. "I fear I've been too permissive with you since your return."

"But--"

"--No!" he interrupted curtly. "You have servants whose sole reason to exist is to enable you to sleep at preposterous hours. That is not my duty. Or my care."

Up until now, he had always let her sleep here when it was convenient. She knew that it was a privilege he had never granted any other woman - ever. With everyone else whom he had entertained in his quarters before her, he insisted they all leave before he went to sleep. He had a deep-seated fear of having his throat slit in his sleep by a traitorous sexual conquest. Zyrdicia was different though. She could slit his throat as easily when he was awake. She disliked killing people in their sleep - it spoiled the fun of it. Furthermore, they had both slept wonderfully following their first encounter in her enchanted palace. From the beginning, it had simply been assumed.

He had always permitted her to stay until he got up in the morning. In fact, he tended to arise later when she was with him simply because he liked the feel of her against him and the warmth of the bed. But somehow this latest request crossed a line.

He could not permit himself to be at her beck and call at all hours of the day or night for revolting acts of kindness. No Blackpool king could be doting or overindulgent. It smacked of weakness. Besides, after last night, he very much wanted to hurt her.

She pulled away her hands. "No?" she repeated, perplexed.

"No. Return to your own quarters!" he commanded firmly as he looked into the enormous purple pools regarding him questioningly. Somehow those eyes robbed him of some of the pleasure he ought to have felt in making her unhappy. To be properly in control of her, however, he felt an absolute need to punish her for leaving without his permission.

She said nothing more. She sighed heavily, looking altogether disappointed. She walked out, leaving him to his evening alone.