Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,169

she still had time.

"Gloriae," he said groggily. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking my clothes off," she said. "They're sweaty and dirty, and I want them off me."

"You shouldn't," he said from the bed.

But Gloriae was already naked. She stretched by the window, the sun on her skin. It felt good to be free of her clothes; she felt like a nymph. She ran her hands through her golden locks, smiled at Kyrie, and stepped toward him.

"Gloriae," he said, frowning.

He tried to rise from the bed, but she pushed him back down. With deft movements, she unlaced his pants and straddled him.

"Don't move, Kyrie," she said. "Just lie still. I'll do everything."

He tried to push her off, but he was too drunk. She held his hands, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead.

"It's all right, Kyrie," she said. "I know what I'm doing. It's for the best."

"I can't," he said, though she could feel his eyes on her breasts, feel his desire beneath her. Gloriae had never done this before, but she knew how to. She had grown up among soldiers; she was no innocent. She did the deed quickly, gasping and digging her fingernails into Kyrie, her head back. It didn't take long. He was done. She left him. She pulled on her clothes, leaned over him, and kissed his lips.

"Thank you, Kyrie," she said. "Now sleep. I'll take the first watch."

He confronted her in the morning. Gloriae was in the common room, setting bowls of porridge on the table. Kyrie came stumbling downstairs. He had sacks beneath his eyes, and a sallow look, and winced in the sunlight.

"Good morning, Kyrie," she said. "I found some oatmeal in the pantry and made breakfast."

He trudged to the table, sat down, and lifted a spoon. His eyes never left hers. He began to eat, frowning at her suspiciously. She sat down beside him and began to eat too. For a moment they were silent.

Then Kyrie slammed down his spoon. "Gloriae," he began, "you—"

"Hush, Kyrie," she said and took a spoonful of porridge. She swallowed. "I don't want to hear it."

He rose to his feet so suddenly, his chair crashed to the floor. He winced and rubbed his temples. "Last night, you—"

Gloriae stood up too and slapped his face, hard enough to knock him back two steps.

"Kyrie," she said, glaring at him, "I have killed Vir Requis. Many of them."

He stared at her silently, his cheek red with the print of her hand. He said nothing.

"I killed my first Vir Requis when I was six years old," she said. "I've killed more since, many more. Now there are only five left. Maybe fewer now; we don't know if the others survived."

"They sur—"

"Quiet, Kyrie!" She grabbed his cheeks and stared into his eyes. "I am Vir Requis too. I know that now. And I need a child. We all need one, a new life for our race. So yes. I will have your child. You might not like it. I don't care. I will have it. Remember what we drank for last night? For Requiem. For her will I bear new life."

He tore free from her. "I promised my love to Agnus Dei," he said.

She snorted. "Promised your love? Are you a poet now? Well, good for you and Agnus Dei. I'm happy for you two. And I know that once we all reunite, you'll marry her. When we rebuild Requiem, you'll build a house with her, and have children with her, and then my chance will be gone. I need your child before then. So I made one with you last night."

Kyrie glared at her, eyes red. For a moment it seemed he would yell, but then he simply righted his chair and sat down with a sigh. He placed his elbows on the tabletop and leaned his head down. "You don't know that you're pregnant. It can take more than one try."

She nodded and placed her hand on his head. "That's why we're going to repeat last night. Again and again, until we reach Requiem and you're reunited with my sister."

He looked up at her. "Gloriae, you're her twin sister. It's wrong."

"The whole world is wrong. We do what we can to right it. Don't we?"

He took her hands. "Gloriae, look. You're beautiful. Achingly beautiful; a goddess. You're strong, and intelligent, and... everything a man could want. But I love Agnus Dei."

"I'm not asking you to love me, Kyrie. I'm not asking you anything. I'm telling you. We need more Vir Requis. I