Kristabel just pressed harder against him, humouring the strange doubts flecking his thoughts.
Her private gondola was moored at a platform on the edge of the pool, with a lamp swinging from the frame of the little canvas cabin. There wasn't much room inside. Edeard and Kristabel had to snuggle up close on the bench. She pulled a fur rug up round their legs. As the gondolier set off up Garden Canal, they began to kiss. He ran his hand through her abundant hair, tasting her lips, then her cheeks, her neck, returning to her mouth. She moaned excitably, her mind enraptured. Even their thoughts seemed to merge.
Eventually she pulled hack, giving him the most tender smile he'd ever seen on her delicate face.
'What? he asked. There was no way he could possibly have misunderstood her feelings. Few of the girls he'd know had ever been as open as Kristabel.
'I'm ready for this, she murmured sensually. 'And I know you are.
'Oh yes, he assured her.
'It's just—
'Your father?
'No, Daddy actually approves of you. He's not quite as traditional as he comes across.
Edeard couldn't help the grin of disbelief creeping across his face. 'I know.
'I think we both know this isn't going to be some casual affair.
'Yes. There was some echo of what she said that tickled at his subconscious, which he dismissed.
'So I want this to be right.
'It will be.
She kissed him lightly. 'It's very late. We've both been partying. You have patrol duty at seven tomorrow. None of that is good.
'Okay?
'I know you had a bad experience with Ranalee, but the family has a beach lodge outside the city. It's really lovely. I would like us to go there. Just you and me. For a week.
He was incredibly sensitive to the feel of her pressed up against him. Her whispered yearnings and the candid desire in her mind were affecting him with the same potency as any of the illicit fires Ranalee's dominance had kindled. 'Yes, he breathed harshly.
'Would you like that?
'Yes. His throat was so tight he could barely get the word out. 'Yes, I would like that.
'I don't want to pressure you into a week with me. I will go back to your maisonette with you now if you'd prefer.
'No. The beach lodge sounds wonderful.
'Really? Her cheek rubbed up against him. 'Thank you. Thank you for giving us this chance.
The gondola turned along Flight Canal, and headed down towards High Pool. They didn't even kiss any more. Their faces rested against each other while they smiled. Edeard looked straight into her eyes and mind, relishing everything he saw. The eagerness, the physical yearning, the excitement that twinned anticipation. The adoration. It was all mirrored, he knew; exactly what she could sense in his own mind. The openness was… sweet.
Homelt was standing on the ziggurat mansion's landing platform. He grinned as Kristabel climbed out of the gondolier.
'Good morning, Mistress. Did you have a nice time?
She flashed him a warm smile. 'Yes, thank you, a very nice time.
Homelt looked down at Edeard, who tried to keep a straight face and failed dismally. He nodded briskly.
'Is my father still up?
'No, Mistress, he went to bed several hours ago. There's only myself and the night-guards awake now.
'I see. Well, good night, Waterwalker.
'Goodnight, Mistress.
Homelt gave them a surprised look, then escorted Kristabel up the wooden stairs into the mansion.
'Can you be ready for next Tuesday? Kristabel's longtalk asked.
Edeard didn't even think of the mountain of work and schedules he'd have to reorganize. And a week from Tuesday was the graduation ceremony, which he could not miss. It would be tight. 'I will be. Whatever it takes.
'I'll hold you to that.
He caught one last glimpse of her atop the stairs. Smiling in expectation. It was, he reflected, an enchanting smile. Macsen had been right about her beauty after all.
The gondolier simply took him over to the other side of Flight Canal where he could walk home through Silvarum into Jeavons. There were two exceptionally bored and sleepy constables standing guard on the bridge over Arrival Canal. Both were startled to see Edeard at that time in the morning, but he stopped for a moment to speak with them. The correct thing to do politically, as Finitan had drilled him, create goodwill and support at every opportunity for you never know when you might need it.
Politics, as he had learned, could never be ignored in Makkathran, not at any level. It was Finitan's clever play which had exploited the kidnapping to get the result they needed in the Grand Council following the Festival of Guidance. It was also politics which had prevented the Gondoliers from going on strike as they'd threatened, for that would have made it look as if they were siding with the kidnappers. For now, the city remained on his side. He knew it wouldn't last, that there would be other attempts to subvert the Council, to turn his supporters away from the exclusion warrants. In all probability, those efforts would never end. He had to remain vigilant, which he was trying his hardest to do.
Kristabel, though, seemed to be filling his mind these days. He thought of her when he should be concentrating on duty rotas or meetings with District Masters or sniffing out the gang masters. He thought of her when he got up. He thought of her when he was out on patrol, remembering her laugh, the way she-looked, her scent, the trivial things of which they spoke. And when he finally did get a few free hours at the end of each day and could be with her, she simply filled his whole world.
Now this. They were finally to become lovers in the truest sense.
When he eventually got back to his maisonette and lay on the bed there were only a few hours until dawn when he was supposed to lead a patrol through Jeavons and round Tycho.
Rather than sleeping as he should, his mind was a whirl with how to rearrange duty periods so he could spend next week away. That and how she'd felt pressed against him in the gondola. Her smile. The promise. It would be difficult for the squad to cover for him; though he no longer cared. Makkathran could fall into oblivion now. He and Kristabel were to be lovers. It was hard to believe; he'd never been so happy before.
In one respect, Kristabel and Ranalee were very similar; their notion of 'just us' was one which could only ever apply to a daughter from a Grand Family. Admittedly, Kristabel only brought three of her personal staff, not five, but the wagon which accompanied their carriage was heavily laden with luggage cases and hampers of food. And of course there was the team of coachmen, and the wagon drivers, each with their own apprentices. In addition there were the ge-wolf handlers which Homelt had assigned to them for the road.
He wouldn't have minded that so much if they'd simply been able to go. But first there were all her (rather too giggly, he felt) girl friends they simply had to say goodbye to as they left the Culverit mansion. Poor Mirnatha was distraught that her sister and the Waterwalker were leaving her behind, acting as if the separation was for ever — so she had to be promised presents and treats on their return. He also had to shake hands with her father and swear no harm would befall his precious daughter; and that was while Lorin was watching impassively from a balcony above.
Edeard had arrived at the mansion with his one bag shortly after breakfast. The coach didn't pull out of the family stables in Tycho until just before midday. Kristabel sat straight-backed on the cushioned bench opposite him, her hair woven into a broad beret with little corkscrew curls dangling down. Simply sitting quietly she carried herself with the kind of imperious nature that Ranalee forever sought yet would never be able to achieve.