Free Lescari Revolution 03: Banners In The Wind by Juliet E. McKenna Page B

you?' Her voice rose still more shrill.
    'Get out or stay and watch.' Iruvain didn't blink. 'But don't think I'll be servicing you, my lady wife.'
    The girl moaned with inarticulate protest, turning away from Litasse. A silver and lapis necklace gleamed through the tangles of her glossy hair.
    Iruvain smiled beguilingly up at her. 'No, you're not done yet, sweetheart, and neither am I.' His strong fingers dug into her white thighs, forcibly rocking her back and forth. 'It would be a sin against Halcarion not to finish what we've started.'
    He would do it too, while she stood there. Litasse could see the cruel satisfaction in his brown eyes. He'd enjoy it all the more, his blood pumping harder with his pleasure at her embarrassment.
    Leaving the door swinging open, she stormed back down the stairs. Let anyone who wanted see her rutting swine of a husband, wallowing with some fool of a girl seduced by his handsome face and honeyed words.
    She nearly fell down the last steps to the turn in the stair. Barely managing to keep her feet, she stood for a moment, fighting treacherous hysterics.
    Below, the tavern door opened and someone came hurrying upwards. Litasse pressed her hands to her face, trying to quench the blush burning her cheeks. But where could she hide her humiliation?
    A lithely muscled man, his light-brown hair shaven close, rounded the first flight. He looked up, startled. 'Your Grace?'
    'Karn--'
    As Litasse struggled to explain, Iruvain's groans echoed down the shabby stairwell. The girl's gasps rose with ostentatious ecstasy.
    'He has some whore--?' Karn took two steps in a single stride, his grip on the banister murderous.
    'No--' Litasse choked.
    Karn saw something in her face to change his mind. He threw open the door on the landing. 'In here.'
    Mute, Litasse acquiesced. Little better than a linen closet, the innkeeper swore this was the only chamber available for their remaining servant. She sat on the narrow bed that took up half the space. She had no choice. Her knees wouldn't support her.
    Karn pressed his back to the closed door. Even in the inadequate light filtering through the grimy window, she saw him glowering. At least he wasn't cross with her.
    She gathered her wits. 'She's no whore, with a new velvet gown and Inchra lace trimming her linen.'
    'She's ruined, whatever her family.' A sneer curled Karn's lip. 'Once word spreads that Iruvain's tupped her.'
    Litasse shook her head. 'I can't disgrace her.'
    Karn was perplexed. 'No one will trace any whispers to you.'
    True enough. He'd learned every dark art of spreading lies from Triolle's much-lamented intelligencer, the cruelly murdered Master Hamare.
    Litasse still shook her head. 'Iruvain will know. I was the only one who saw them.'
    'Not if I go up now.' Karn wasn't easily dissuaded.
    'Iruvain will retaliate.' Litasse picked at the threadbare coverlet with a chipped fingernail. 'He'll tell everyone that I am the whore.'
    He had reason. Litasse had been the first to betray the vows they'd exchanged before Drianon's altar. But she had been so lonely, so frustrated. What leisure Iruvain could spare from his ducal duties, after his father's untimely death, he lavished on his hounds and horses. But could she honestly blame him? They had obeyed their parents' dictates in wedding. Iruvain sought a decorative bride while Litasse sought the highest rank. Had either of them ever truly considered the realities of marriage?
    Whereas Master Hamare had adored her. Little by little Litasse had realised, as he tutored her in the ciphers and secrets reserved for Triolle's duchess. One tedious day she succumbed to temptation; discreetly flirtatious at first, more openly alluring the next time. Hamare had overcome his scruples to prove himself a skilled and passionate lover.
    She blinked away her tears. So Iruvain was finally taking his revenge. Was the girl the first or had there been others?
    'I would like to know who the trollop is.' She was pleased to find her