The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(27)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Oh yes. I witnessed that last night.

Gaal whispered something to me, I’d heard it before, it included the word linas, which I’d figured out was eyes, so I closed my eyes and she rinsed my hair with another jug of warm water.

Diandra said something to Sheena and I opened my eyes, wiped the water from them and Gaal massaged what I suspected was a kind of conditioner in my hair for this was what she did the last two mornings. It didn’t lather but when my hair was dry, it left it shiny and soft. Or maybe the gunk they put into it did that. I saw Sheena move to Teetru who was sorting through the smaller trunks that held my jewelry. Sheena smiled at Teetru and they carried on digging through the trunks.

My eyes went to Diandra to see her pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Diandra?” I called.

“Yes, my dear,” she replied, dripping some milk in her cup.

“What does hahla mean?”

She turned to me and sipped, smiling as Jacanda rinsed the soap from one of my arms. “It means ‘true’, ‘pure’, the word means both. This, too,” her voice had dropped, “is sweeping the camp. After last night at the games, you are no longer rahna Dahksahna or Lahnahsahna but rahna Dahksahna hahla and Lahnahsahna hahla. This means, Dahksahna Circe, the warriors believe you are the true golden warrior queen, a pure tigress.” Her smile got bigger. “This is good.”

No. No. It was bad for they believed this and they believed Dax was the mighty warrior of legend, and, from what I’d seen, that could be true.

But I was a girl from Seattle. And I was likely a girl who would go back to Seattle. Not a queen who, with her king, legend tells begins a dynasty.

Shit.

I shook that off and, after Gaal rinsed my hair again, I asked Diandra, “What does kah fauna mean?”

Her body gave a start causing her head to jerk. Then she stared at me. Then her eyes warmed, her face got soft and her lips smiled big.

“Kah fauna?” she whispered, her warm eyes beginning to light.

“Uh…” I stared into her eyes, feeling my stomach dip and my heart beat faster, “yes, kah fauna.”

“Did your king call you that?” Diandra asked and I felt that it wasn’t only Diandra’s eyes but every female’s eyes in that tent were on me.

A quick glance proved this to be true.

I swallowed and looked back at Diandra.

“Yes, uh, twice,” I whispered.

Diandra’s eyes closed slowly. She opened them, turned her head to her daughter and lifted up two fingers.

Sheena beamed.

“What?” I asked and Diandra looked back at me, still grinning. “What?” I asked more urgently.

“It means, Dahksahna Circe, ‘my doe’ or, as we might say it in my land, ‘my sweet’ or ‘my love’ or ‘my darling’.” She moved toward me carrying her cup and her eyes didn’t leave mine as I sat in the warm, fragrant tub with flower blossoms floating around and stared at her in shock at the same time my belly didn’t dip, it warmed… as did my heart. Shit! “Warriors do not speak like this.” She shook her head. “No, this isn’t true, they do, but it is rare and when it comes, it is precious.” She was speaking softly, standing by the tub looking down at me. “My Seerim has called me kah fauna ten times in the twenty-two years he has been my husband. I have counted. I remember each time. And each time was a treasure.”

I blinked up at her.

Oh. My. God.

“It is true,” she whispered, “the mightiest, strongest warriors can fall in love upon gazing at their bride in the parade.”

Oh shit.

“Diandra –”

“A blessing,” she cut me off, still whispering, “for our Dax, for his people and for you.”

Oh shit!

“Diandra –”

The tent flaps slapped open, I jumped, water sloshed, Diandra turned and my eyes went there to see Lahn bending low to enter.

My heart warmed again and other places warmed too.

Shit!

His eyes swept the tent going clean through me then he looked at Teetru and barked something. She rushed to a chest and he turned to Diandra and barked something else. She nodded, bowed slightly and murmured something back. Teetru rushed to him with a largish clay pot that had a lid, he seized it from her fingers, barked something else at her, jerked his head at me, she nodded, he turned and, without a word to me or another glance, he stalked to the tent flaps and he was gone.

I stared at the tent flaps.

Then my eyes went to Diandra who was smiling at the tent flaps.

“Uh… Diandra, I don’t think that’s love,” I pointed out the obvious. “He barely looked at me. I haven’t seen him this morning and he said not one word to me.”

She waved her hand in front of her face and replied, “He’s a warrior,” like that explained it all.

“He’s my husband who you’re convinced loves me,” I returned and her eyes came down to me.

“He’s a husband, he’s a king, he’s a man but above all, my queen, always remember, above all, he… is… a warrior.”

I didn’t know what that meant but I knew it was important. And I didn’t get the chance to ask either because Gaal touched my shoulder in the way she did to indicate it was time to get out of the bath.

Diandra saw it and turned her back to give me privacy, Sheena’s eyes went back to the jewelry trunk and Diandra muttered on her way back to the table, “We haven’t much time and there’s much to do. No more chitter chatter. We need to prepare you for the selection.”

I rose from the tub, Packa instantly curved a thick, soft absorbent cloth around me and I stepped out.

Once I was out of the tub, I decided that was my last step, my next one was to be Lahn’s queen for whatever was happening today.

The step after that, we would see.

Then all seven women helped me prepare to sit at my king’s side at the warrior selection.

* * * * *

We were moving through the encampment and I knew by the hustle and bustle of people hurrying around us that the selection was close and this was a big event they didn’t want to miss.

I was getting a lot of looks and this was not surprising. They had no mirrors here that I knew of but there was no doubt about it.

I looked awesome and I looked like a queen.

A golden one.

They’d chosen a silk sarong for me, its color gold shot with pure white. My bandeau top was also pure white. I was wearing a latticework necklace of delicate gold chains that covered nearly my whole chest and matching earrings that hung so low, they swept my shoulders. I had on the gold wristlets that went from wrist to nearly elbow and the gold bands at my biceps, both I’d worn the night of the rite. I also had on the wide, heavy gold belt made thick with discs and more discs that hung down and jangled as I moved. The leather of my flimsy, strappy, low-heeled sandals was also colored gold. I had gold eye shadow on my lids, dark gold pencil around my eyes, gold dust arcing along my cheekbones and up to my temples and peach-tinted gloss on my lips. I also had gold dust in my twisted, curled hair, making it sparkle and glitter and if that wasn’t enough, lightweight gold clips, dozens of them, adorned my hair making it, too, a golden latticework of twists and curls.