I smirked at him, lifting my glass to my mouth again and drinking deep, feeling the sweet juice in my throat and wishing I could lick it from his mouth.
Tallu’s eyes flared, but he inhaled deeply. “What did you wish to talk about?”
His voice was low, not quite a murmur, so even someone with their ear pressed to the door would be hard-pressed to hear more than a rumble of sound.
“We need to discuss what we are going to do about the Kennelmaster,” I said. “His health is getting worse. And either he’s keeping information from you on purpose or his network of spies is fracturing. We should have known about the fall of the capitalbeforeSaxu arrived.”
“If I try to displace him, I can’t guarantee that he won’t turn on me,” Tallu said.
I stared at him, and he stared back, eyebrow going up before he dropped his chin, considering the glass in his hand. Hecouldguarantee it, if he asked for my services. And even if the reasons I had given Iradîo were still valid, her arguments for assassination were more so.
“It is something we should consider,” he agreed. “Do you think we are that pressed for time?”
“I think we need to understand what is going on in the rest of the Imperium. And if the Kennelmaster can’t provide us with that information…” I raised my eyebrow again.
“I will ask him to choose a successor.” Tallu drank the last ofhis juice, and I crossed the room, bringing the carafe to him and pouring him another glass. I placed the carafe on the low table in front of him and then crouched at his feet, my hands pressed into his knees, looking up into his face.
“Do not let him choose his own successor. Youmustchoose for him. Sagam or Asahi. I do not know Gotuye enough to trust him and any other Dog the Kennelmaster brings in might put you in even more danger.”
“He will not like that,” Tallu pointed out reasonably. He rested a hand on top of one of mine, the metal from his rings pressing into my skin as he gripped my hand.
“He will like the alternative even less,” I said. I rose to my knees, finally unable to resist the temptation and kissed him hard, tasting juice and sweetness on his lips.
He released my hand, grabbing hold of my braids tight and twisting his fingers in the plaited hair.
“Was that all?” Tallu asked, the corners of his lips going up, his grin sharp and fierce.
“What did Koque say?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He dropped his hand from my hair, his frown tightening his brows. “I asked her directly if it was what she wanted, and she could give me no answer.”
“She refused to even speak to me about it.” I leaned back on my heels, still resting my hands on his thighs. Tallu frowned slightly, eyes going distant as he considered the situation.
He took a drink of his juice before dropping his other hand back to my wrist, stroking his fingers over the exposed skin at the cuff of my shirt.
“Vostop asked her to marry him before we arrived, and he said that she did not answer him.” I bit my lip, unable to burden Tallu with the rest of our conversation, the sadness of it, the idea that Vostop could so easily accept his lover’s death.
I couldn’t. I would never swallow Tallu’s imminent death like poison masked in nectar, accepting the inevitability of the painbecause the drink was so sweet. “I have an appointment to meet with her tomorrow, but she seems worried about Prince Hallu. Have you heard anything?”
Tallu shook his head. “I’ve spoken with him a few times since our return from Krustau, but he is a child.”
I nodded. Tallu’s fingers still stroked absently over the inside of my wrist, tracing the tendons and veins with his fingers.
Then, with a wicked leer, I rose from my knees, standing above Tallu and stroking his soft hair. “With that done, should we move on to more entertaining pastimes? I think they will smell it if we do not make use of the room.”
Tallu reached forward, placing his glass on the table with a click. He raised his chin, one hand pressing against my stomach while the other traced circles at my hip.
“We can’t have that,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “It would be careless of us to leave behind evidence that we are plotting instead of lovemaking.”
I felt myself hardening, my cock straining against the tight press of my pants. I stroked my fingers through his hair again, enjoying the feel of the soft curls against my fingers. Moving my hand, I pressed my thumb against his bottom lip, my breath hitching when he sucked my fingertip inside.
He nipped and sucked, and I shifted my hand, drawing my finger out and lowering my head to kiss him, my breath coming in soft moans as I desperately wished we were already naked.
He pulled at my hip suddenly, and I tumbled into his lap, my knees straddling his hips as I rose and ground myself down on his cock. Even through the layers of clothing, I could feel how much he was straining for me, how much he wanted me.
He pulled on my hair again, forcing my head back as he bit and kissed along the sensitive flesh of my throat.
I held on, one hand fisting his robe at his shoulder, the other cupped against the back of his head. I was pulled as taut as a bowstring, my entire body arched for him. His lips pulled into asmile at my pulse point, and he sucked the skin, barely grazing it with his teeth.
