“To pass her to another man? She surely has will of her own! Thy friend was no bad person; I think she might have warmed to him, had she no other commitment. Certainly she would make her own choice, in her own time.” And the Lady Blue surely knew.
“Thou hast no resentment, that I did not—?”
“Did not court her thyself, and bereave the Blue Demesnes a second time? Even were the danger naught, it matters not. An I decline thy suit for myself, why should I be jealous of what attention thou mightest pay to mine other self? She would like thee well enough, I think.”
“But I did not court her!” Stile protested, in his distraction looking into her lovely face.
“And am I to feel insulted that it is I alone thou seekest, not my likeness in another frame?”
“Thou hast a marvelously balanced perspective.”
“It was a quality thine other self selected for, methinks,” she said with a half rueful smile. “I could not otherwise have maintained the Demesnes in his absence. Surely this, not any wit or beauty, was what caused the Oracle to identify me as his ideal wife.”
“Thou hast those other qualities too,” Stile said. “I beg thee. Lady, let me go now, lest I embarrass us both by—“
She did not let him go. “Thou’rt very like my Lord. Well I know what thou wouldst do with me, were I amenable.”
‘Then well thou knowest that I like not to be toyed with!”
“Thou’rt now the Blue Adept. Thy power is proven. Fain would I have thee remain here, not risking thy life in any quest for vengeance.”
“I have made an oath,” Stile said, somewhat stiffly.
“Well do I know the power of thine oaths! Yet there be ways and ways to implement, and here is thy bastion. Let thine enemy come to thee here, where thy magic is strongest; do not put thyself in jeopardy in hostile Demesnes.”
“There is merit in thy view,” Stile said, still overwhelmingly conscious of her nearness, of her hands upon him. He kept his own hands at his sides. “Yet I fear that it is folly to wait for attack. Already mine enemy’s traps have imperiled my life in both frames, and destroyed my friend and perhaps thine other self too. I want no others to suffer in my stead. I prefer to take the initiative, to do boldly what has to be done. Thereafter will I retire to the Blue Demesnes.”
“I fear to lose thee, as I lost him! As has so nearly happened already. What becomes of me, of the Blue Demesnes, if thou goest the way of my Lord?”
That moved him. “Never would I place thee in jeopardy, if I could avoid it. Lady. Yet I dare not take thee with me on my quest for vengeance.”
Her grip on his shoulders tightened. “It is my vengeance too, to have or to renounce. If thou lovest me, heed my plea! Leave me not!”
“I have no right to love thee, now less than ever,” Stile said. “I may only guard thee.”
“Thou’rt the Blue Adept! Thy right is as thou makest it!”
“My right is as my conscience dictates. I seek not the spoils of mine other self’s Demesnes. Fain would I return thy Lord to thee, if I could.”
She shifted her grip and drew him savagely in to her. She kissed him. Stile’s heart seemed to explode with longing, but with an iron will he held himself passive. She shook him. “Respond, Adept. These Demesnes are thy spoils, and I too. Take what is thy right. Leave me not bereft of Lord and of power. I will grant thee whatever thou dost desire. I will give thee a son. No one, I swear, will ever suspect by word or gesture or deed of mine that in truth I love thee not. Only remain to preserve these Demesnes.”
It was that truth that cut him almost as savagely as the murder of his friend. Gently but firmly Stile disengaged from her. “If the occasion comes when I do not suspect, then I may act as thou hast in mind. This scene becomes thee not.”
She slapped him stingingly across the cheek. “How dost thou dare prate to me of scenes, thou who dost seek futile vengeance that will only exterminate thee and bring down what remains of what my Lord created?”
“I apologize for my foolishness,” Stile said stiffly. He hated everything about this situation, while loving her for the sacrifice she was attempting. To preserve the memory and works of her Lord, she would do anything. She had thrown away her pride in that effort. “I am the way I am. I will fulfill mine oath in the best way I know.”
She spread her hands. Surprisingly she smiled. “Go then, with my blessing. I will aid thee in whatever manner I am able.”
This startled Stile. “Why the sudden change. Lady?”
“It is now thy welfare I value, for whatever reason. If I can not preserve thee from thy folly my way, I must help thee do it thy way. Ever was it thus, in these Demesnes.”
Stile nodded. “Thy balanced perspective, again. I thank thee. Lady, for thy support.” He turned to go.
“Thou’rt so very like my Lord,” she repeated as he passed through the doorway. “Nor wiles nor logic nor rages could move him iotas from his set course, when honor was involved.”
Stile paused. “I am glad thou understandest.”
