The Shining Falcon

A dream. Only a dream. He was still sheltered and warm in Ljuba's bed, she was still peacefully asleep beside him. And she was lovely, no denying it, relaxed and defenseless in sleep, the yellow candlelight soft on curve of cheek, of shoulder, of breast. Even now he felt a returning stir of desire…

«No," Finist repeated, softly, fiercely. Even in the throes of his lust, he'd tried to be gentle, he'd tried to please them both, he'd tried for at least a semblance of love. But as before, there'd been no joy in their coupling, not even relief, nothing but anger and a vague sense of revulsion, almost as though there were something unnatural about this most natural of acts.

She can't be bespelling me, Id know it! I wasn't fool enough to eat or drink anything from her hand, she wasn't wearing any ointments or sorcerous perfumes… Yet… I—I just can't seem to think…

The candles weren't helping. Their light was beginning to hurt his eyes, while the smell of the scented wax lay so heavy in the air that he found it difficult to breathe. And his head was pounding. Feeling like a man wading through syrup, Finist reached out a heavy arm to pinch out a flame. There. That seemed to relieve the pressure, however slightly. He wasn't sure his legs would hold him, but if he stretched out a bit more, he could reach a second candle and extinguish it, a third… Yes, the air did seem to be clearing faintly, at least to the point where he didn't have to struggle for each breath. Now his muddled mind seemed to be clearing, too…

Clearing, indeed.

«My God.'' Finist sat bolt upright. «What a fool I am!»

As Ljuba stirred, blinking in confusion, Finist struggled to his feet. Head still reeling, he fought his way to the window, casting open the shutters to take deep lungfuls of cold, clean night air, feeling the haze leave his brain. Quickly, holding his breath, he reached for the remaining candles, hurling them out, watching in grim satisfaction as they fell, trailing small tails of fire, till they hit the cobblestones far below.

«Finist… ?» Ljuba's voice was pathetically weak, and her eyes, when he whirled to face her, were wide and fearful.

«Oh yes, cousin," hissed Finist, «fear me!»

«I—I don't understand.»

«Don't you? How clever you were! Your potions were worked into the candlewax itself, weren't they? So simple a trap! If I hadn't been so—so damnably besotted, I'd have realized it from the first.»

«I didn't mean — "

«Don't lie to me! Why did you do it, Ljuba? Answer me!»

Her head dropped. «I… wanted you. But you… just never looked at me, not as a man sees a woman.» She glanced up, face pale. «What are you going to do to me?»

What could he do? Ljuba lied as easily as she drew breath. But what if this once she was telling the truth? He could hardly banish her for that! Seduction of a man old enough to know what he was doing was hardly a treasonable offense! And if he made matters public at all—oh, wouldn't that do wonders for his royal image? Devil take it, Ljuba knew he wouldn't—couldn't—publicly chastise her, not his cousin, not under these circumstances!

It took every bit of regal self‑control to keep his voice level. «This time, you are forgiven. But I promise you this, cousin: try any magics against me again, any magics at all, and I'll find a way to see you declared a traitor to the crown.»

«But, Finist, you don't understand — "

«I understand enough!»

If he stayed there a moment longer, Finist knew he'd do something he would regret. With a swirling of shape, he was falcon, and soaring up out of that stifling room. Behind him, he could hear Ljuba calling frantically, «Finist! I did it because—Finist, wait!»

Then, as he fled away into the night, came one last, despairing wail: «I did it because I love you!»

Chapter Vlll The Lovers

Prince Finist of KIrtesk flew from his cousin's palace, his anger slowly cooling in the night chill. After all, hate the thought though he might, he had to admit that she could never have seduced him, even with those ridiculous candles, if he hadn't consented, somewhere deep within himself.