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body. “And do you know? It is not a grenade.”
    “I am happy to hear it.” Reever bent his head and kissed the outside curve of my ear. At the same time, his voice spoke in my head. Jarn, the Torins have put at least two recording drones in the room. His eyes shifted first to the huge cluster of flowers left in a jar in the center of the room, and then up to the emitters over our heads. Do not say anything about the patient or the bounty.
    If I concentrated, I could speak inside my husband’s mind just as clearly. Why are they monitoring us? I thought we were allies.
    Xonea will claim it is a security precaution. Reever brushed aside my hair and trailed his fingers down the side of my neck. I fear we did not completely dispel his suspicions.
    Cherijo had once been Chosen to be the only wife of Xonea’s ClanBrother, Kao, now deceased. Unlike Iisleg men, who were permitted at least two wives, and could kill them and replace them as was necessary, Jorenians mated with one spouse for life. My former self’s brief engagement to Kao was what had led to my adoption by the Torin. It also made me Xonea’s ClanSister, a relationship he regarded as seriously as if we had actually been born from the same womb.
    Under the circumstances, I could think of only one solution that would protect our daughter and stop the Jorenians from going to war. Duncan, we have to leave Joren.
    My husband swept me up into his arms and carried me into the chamber where we slept. Ensleg insisted on having separate rooms for eating, sleeping, and cleansing, and to insure they were not disturbed at such activities, put locks on the doors. Personal privacy was one of their concepts that I had found difficult to fathom, but being monitored without our permission made me see some of its merits.
    As my husband stretched his long, lean body out beside me on the sleeping platform, I unfastened his tunic and pushed it back, baring his chest. His skin, several shades darker than mine, felt smooth and resilient under my palms.
    We can leave Joren tomorrow. He covered my hands with his. But we cannot take Marel with us.
    Every muscle in my body tensed at the prospect of being separated from our child. I had never thought I would form a close bond to any person, but since discovering that Marel was the child of my body, I had become fiercely, almost irrationally attached to her.
    The Torins will have fewer suspicions if we leave her behind. I pressed a hand over my eyes. I know it is best, but I hate to be parted from her, Duncan. It is a blade, piercing my heart. If something were to happen—if she were hurt or fell sick, and I was not here to care for her—
    I know how you feel. When PyrsVar took her on Vtaga, I thought I would go mad. A thread of dark, ugly redness colored his thoughts. We cannot ever risk her being captured and held hostage again.
    Agreed. I rolled on top of him, straddling him before looking around the room. Did Xonea put one of his spy machines in here?
    He shook his head, his eyes darkening as I settled against him. “I thought you were tired,” he said out loud.
    “I am weary,” I murmured as I bent down to put my mouth on his. “Not dead.”
    I was not a very good human, and still had much to learn about the ensleg among whom I would live. Coupling, on the other hand, I had mastered quite soon after agreeing to be Reever’s woman.
    Coupling did not require much in the way of manners, words, or even thought. Our bodies had been fashioned to fit together, and the fitting of them provided an endless variety of sensation and satisfaction. Among the Iisleg a woman would never dare do the things I did to my husband in our bed, but I had never been a very good Iisleg, either.
    I tore at his garments and then my own, trying to bare as much skin as I could before the need overwhelmed me. Since Reever had introduced me to the pleasure we could give to each other, I welcomed any chance to take his body into mine.
    Thanks to what my creator