Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Dorrin and Ziana spent a long time showering. In part because they couldn't keep their hands off each other now that the sexual tension Rubicon had been crossed, but also because picking the bits of broken furniture and decor from their skin simply took a while. Fortunately, while there would be some bruising and floor, rug, wall, and sheet burns, the actual damaged bits of their bodies were minor enough that the healing salve would make quick work of them, sealing, scabbing, and mending their flesh in no time.

"If your runes were complete, you would heal even faster," Dorrin noted, caressing her skin as he gently lathered her body with a soothing body wash.

"So you've said. But the other stuff would be pretty useful right about now too," she noted. "That extra speed and strength? Yeah, that would have come in handy yesterday."

"It infuriates me they did this to you. Yet even with this disadvantage you did quite well without them."

"I suppose."

"And Galla's nose might have properly exploded if you'd possessed the strength to hit her any harder," he added with a chuckle. "By the way, I meant to say that, while punching her was ill-advised, what I did not mention at the time was that it was also satisfying as hell."

"Why thank you," she replied with a little curtsey.

"I mean it. You latched onto the one thing no one had ever thought to take advantage of. A loophole in the rules that you put to good use, and apart from her brother, I can't think of a more deserving recipient. Of course, I'm quite certain they will change the rules from here out, specifically excluding the tunnel from the course proper."

"We wouldn't want any more elites getting their faces pushed in now, would we?"

"A great many would enjoy that, actually. And that's where the problem arises. They wish to maintain their control quietly, without overt conflict. But not all are satisfied with their rule, and seeing a commoner stand up to them? Well, it's one thing to beat them in a few rounds of events within the games. But this was something far more visceral. And that is dangerous to their grip on the reins of power. They'll come for you to make a statement that resonates with the people. They'll come for both of us."

"You think so?"

"Yes. To put us in our place, so to speak. The remainder of the games will not be easy."

"Well, then, I guess we will need to strategize."

"That we will."

"Over breakfast?" she asked, slipping close to him, rubbing her body against his, eliciting quite a favorable response despite the number of rounds they'd already enjoyed.

He leaned down and kissed her gently, cupping her ass as he held her close. "I think that would be delightful."

Amazingly, he did not push the matter despite her clear willingness. There would be plenty of time for that later, and she had actually brought up a very important point. From now on they would have to be extra strategic in everything they did, and that would require a lot of preparation. Prep that would start today.

Dorrin may have held back from a replay of the many delightful things they'd done to one another all morning, but that didn't stop his hungry hands from lingering on her sensitive skin, stroking her breasts, flanks, and ass with clear relish as he helped dry her off. Of course, Ziana was a grown-ass woman and could dry and dress herself, but she wasn't about to stop him. In fact, she had her own fun, making sure his cock was extra dry thanks to a long time spent drying his shaft.

They almost didn't make it out of the shower, but once their clothes were on it was a bit easier to keep from being too distracted. And once they stepped outside and made their way to the dining area, the smell of fresh food was more than enough to draw their full attention. They'd burned a lot of calories, and their bodies were screaming at them to replenish them.

The walk was also interesting as several groups were playing Bolaxis, boards having been set up in the dining area now for the competitors to play in their downtime without requiring a trip to the actual training fields. The elite men were playing one another while their female counterparts stood by, offering them refills of their Lectrolis cooler when their glasses ran low. The common players had their own play area set up a few tables away. It seemed the two groups were not really meant to mix, though a game of mental prowess seemed a fantastic way to challenge one another without the strain of their usual pursuits.

Whatever the case, Ziana tugged on the cable connecting her to her lover, urging him to slow so she could watch for a moment.

"You like the game, I see."

She nodded. "It makes sense now. I just had to wrap my head around the extra piece and the couple of different ways the pieces move. And a slightly bigger board than chess, of course. But yeah, it's a pretty cool game."

"A game of military minds," Dorrin added. "It has long been a standard training tool for those who would hope to be in any position of leadership."

"I assume you're good at it?"

"Fairly, though it is not my strong suit."

"And are these other guys any good?"

He scanned the two groups, sizing up the players. "Of the commoners, Warxin is a solid player. That's him over there."

She noted the man, studying the pieces before him as well as how he'd set up his opponent. "What about the assholes?"

"Ah, the elites," he said with a chuckle. "Typically, skilled players, though because of the position of their families they are also not properly challenged for the most part."

"I sense a theme here."

"As you should. And this has been ongoing for a very long time."

"So, everyone kisses their asses, tells them they're the best, and meanwhile they really don't ever have to live up to their imagined greatness?"

"You do have a way with words," he said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze but stopping himself immediately.

He'd explained it before they stepped out. While there were couples competing, as was sometimes the case, being romantically involved with your partner was often used to your disadvantage. Opponents would try to leverage the instinctive protectiveness that would come with that in the most unexpected ways, and many had wound up eliminated as a result.

Dorrin had no intention of letting that happen to them.

Ziana watched the players a few minutes longer then wandered toward the elite tables. She studied their boards as they approached, noting the different tactics this group used. They seemed to be overly aggressive. Overconfident. And their moves lacked the finesse she'd seen in Warxin's game.

"Come to fetch me a Lectrolis cooler?" Flagro asked with a sneer as he looked up from his game.

Galla stared fire and daggers at the human woman, a look of pure hate that was only enhanced by the darkness beneath her eyes. No matter the makeup she'd tried to cover it with, the aftereffects of Ziana's punch were still readily apparent.

Ziana shook her head, letting Galla's glare bounce right off her. "Not a chance. But I'm sure your sister will be more than happy to."

"You know you're going to pay for what you did," Galla hissed.

"Yeah, you keep saying that. And yet here we are," she shot back, not once breaking the stare down with Galla's asshole brother.

Flagro finally looked away, quickly moving one of his pieces with the confidence of a man never challenged.

"Ooh, you sure you want to do that?" she asked with one brow sarcastically arched high.

"You are a female. This sort of thing is beyond you."

"Sure, buddy. You keep telling yourself that. But where I'm from that little thing hanging between your legs doesn't mean you're the smartest guy in the room. Which you're clearly not."

Dorrin suppressed a chuckle as he gave the cable a little tug. "Come on, Ziana, this bores me," he said. "Let's eat."

"Good idea. Watching Flagro lose really works up an appetite."

The two strode off before the sputtering man could formulate an appropriately vitriolic response. No one talked to him like that. He was Flagro Vinchi, son of Chancellor Vinchi. How dare they?

Apparently, quite easily, it turned out.

"You certainly made an impression," Dorrin said with an amused tone once they were out of earshot. "Not easing up on yesterday's conflict, I see."

"He was being a dick. And what I said was true. That was a bad choice. He'll lose that game in five moves."

Dorrin turned his head, sizing her up as they walked with an odd look in his eye. "You could tell that?"

"It was pretty obvious."

"Seriously? From just a glance?"

"Once you understand the patterns, it's really just pattern recognition and then playing based on the most likely next moves. Didn't they ever teach you that?"

"As I said, I am a fair player, but not an expert by any means."

"Well, trust me on this one. Your game may be a little different, but I've played a lot of chess in my day."

"Noted," he said, mulling over the rather surprising revelation. They reached the buffet-style serving area just a moment later, and just as their noses had informed them there was an impressive spread laid out for the surviving competitors. "May I make selections for you? I believe I understand the flavors that will please your palate the most."

"Wow, look at you, Mister Take Charge. Sure. Surprise me."

"I will do so with pleasure," he replied, a hot look in his eye that made his double meaning readily apparent.

The two carried their trays to an open table and sat down, digging in with gusto, the first bite triggering their salivary glands into overdrive.

"Damn, this is good!"

"I know."

"I didn't realize just how hungry I was," Ziana said between voracious mouthfuls. "And is it just me, or is this really good today? Like, better than usual."

"It is not just you, though I do believe we may be enjoying it a bit more than we normally would, given our recent energy expenditures," he replied with a little chuckle, scanning the area to make sure no one would overhear them.

Fortunately, while the prior night had been one of unusual camaraderie, today things were back to normal. At least, mostly. And as a result, they were eating all alone.

The atmosphere was calm, and the number of active competitors had been reduced significantly. Whether they had become injured or had simply not made it to the exit in the allotted time, the result was the same. Their numbers were shrinking.

Something else was different. A tall, brightly clothed woman with a rather regal air was walking to some of the pairs and having quiet words with them, after which they would follow her out of the dining area. She would return shortly thereafter, but without the competitors.

"What's going on?" Ziana asked, a little nervous.

"Do not worry. It is just the patronage meetings."

"The what, now? You didn't say anything about any of that."

"Because we are not a favored team. Or, more accurately, we were not. Only a few of the more competitive ones enjoy the benefits of patronage. Better clothing, private food reserves, even specialized healing balms and elixirs. They win in their betting pools and spend some of that currency to help their chosen teams."

"So the teams that make the betting better get goodies, basically?"

"In a simplified manner of speaking, you could say that. But as you have made it your life's work to make the elites look bad, I can all but guarantee you we will not be partaking in any of that, despite the excitement your shenanigans have brought to the games."

Ziana's spirits fell, but only slightly. After all, it was a perk she hadn't even known she'd be missing out on until just moments ago.

"Too bad. But I guess that's okay. We've been doing fine without any of that."

"Yes, but patronage is still a good thing to have. It also means the elites will have less opportunity to, as you say, mess with you ."

"More invested eyes watching, you mean."

"Precisely. But we needn't worry about that. Just enjoy your meal. We'll get in some light training later."

"And after?"

He cracked a sexy-as-hell grin. "I think you already know."

They sat close, enjoying the rest of their meal at a sane pace now that the initial hunger had been sated. Both felt so much better now, and their bodies were absorbing the nutrients like a sponge.

"Hey, she's back again," Ziana noted when the tall woman returned to the dining area.

The woman looked around, her eyes stopping on Ziana and her partner. She pivoted and walked toward them with long yet casual strides.

"Uh, Dorrin?"

"I see. But this cannot be."

"Dorrin. Ziana. I am Mollia," the woman said. "If you two will please come with me, you have patrons who wish to meet you."

"Patrons? Plural?" Ziana asked.

"Yes."

"But how? From what I understood, since I kinda pissed off the elites I thought we weren't allowed."

The woman's normally expressionless face faltered, the tiniest hint of something tickling the corners of her mouth. Was it amusement? Surprise? Whatever it was, this seemed to be quite out of the ordinary for her as well.

"It is a Nimenni prince," she replied. "A famous general, no less."

"A Nimenni?" Ziana asked. "What's that?"

"A very powerful and respected race," Dorrin quietly told her.

That was great, but it didn't really clear things up. "But why us?"

"Because of his mate, I would assume."

"His mate?"

"Yes. She very much wishes to speak with you."

"I don't get it. Why?"

The woman actually cracked a little smile. "Because, my dear. She is a human, like you."