"I am not accustomed to rudeness. I could have your tongue ripped out by theroot." The Beysa straightened in her chair; the carefully manicured nails of onehand began to tap idly on the chair's carven arm.

Chenaya arched a brow. "You could try," she answered evenly. "But I rathersuspect I'd be holding both those marbles you call eyes in the palm of my handbefore your guards could answer your summons."

The Beysa stared, but Chenaya could read nothing in those strange eyes. Only aslight twitch of the mouth and those tapping nails betrayed the woman'sirritation.

The Beysa spoke again after a long, uncomfortable silence. Her tone was moreconciliatory this time. "Perhaps you are not so accustomed to rudeness, either.The regular gate guard who admitted you to the grounds claimed you bore theImperial Rankan Seal. How is it you have such a thing in your possession?"

Chenaya felt the sigil she wore on her right hand and twisted it. Each member ofthe Imperial family owned a similar ring by right. Even a Rankan peasant knewthat, but she was disinclined to explain it to this woman. Instead, she glancedaround the chamber, finely furnished but less lavish than her own in Ranke, andspied a wine vessel and small chalices on a side table. She crossed to it,purposefully ignoring the Beysa, poured a dollop and sipped, not offering toserve. It was sweet liquor, unlike any she had-tasted; she wondered if theforeigner had brought it from her own land.

"You are a very rude young woman," her hostess said.

"So are you," Chenaya shot back over the rim of her cup, adding the lie, "onlyyou're not so young."

The Beysa's brow crinkled; a delicate-seeming fist smacked on the chair arm."Very well, let me be blunt and trade rudeness for rudeness." She rose from herchair, her face clouding over, her finger out-thrust in anger. "Do not come hereagain. Stay away from Kadakithis. I cannot make myself plainer."

Chenaya nearly dropped the chalice in surprise. Her own cool fury dissolved. Shedrifted back to the center of the room, the meekest grin blossoming on her lips.Then, unable to restrain herself, she laughed.

"Damn! By the bright lights of the gods, you're in love with my Little Prince!"she accused when she could get her breath again.

The Beysa stiffened. "Kadakithis loves me. I know this, though he says nothing.Mere days after our eyes first met he sent his wife away and all hisconcubines."

Chenaya felt her brows knit closer. She had not liked Kadakithis's bride; thefrail little thing whined far too much. Yet, her cousin had seemed devoted toher. "Sent his wife where?" she persisted.

"How should I know?" the Beysa answered, mocking. "Haven't you reminded me thatRankan business is for Ran-kans?"

Chenaya studied again those weird brown eyes, the thin pale hair that reached tothe waist and lower, the finely boned hands and ivory skin. The Beysa was,perhaps, only slightly older than she. Yet, she gave some impression of age."You're pretty enough," Chenaya admitted grudgingly. "Maybe, by some god's whim,you have bewitched him."

"Yet, mine is the beauty of the moon, while you shine like the very sun," theBeysa answered harshly, making what could have been a compliment sound like aninsult. "I know the ways of men, Rankan, and I know of temptation."

Amazed, Chenaya reassured her. "There is no need for your jealousy. The Princeis my cousin."

But the fish-eyed woman would not be calmed. She answered coldly, "Blood has nobearing on passion. In many lands such a relationship is not only condoned, butencouraged. I do not know your customs, yet. But the thinner the blood, theeasier the passion. Cousins you may be, but let us not put temptation in hisway. Or there will be trouble between us."

Chenaya clenched her fists; scarlet heat rushed into her cheeks. "On Rankan soilI come and go as I please," she answered low-voiced, moving closer until only anarm's length separated them. Then, she turned the chalice and slowly poured theremainder of her wine on the floor between them. It shone thick and rich on theluxurious white tiles, red as blood. "And no one orders me." Her fingerstightened about the gold chalice as she held it under the Beysa's nose. The goldbegan to give and bend as she squeezed; then it collapsed under her easyexertion.

Chenaya cast the cup aside and waited for its clattering to cease. She no longerbothered to contain her fury; it found a natural vent in her speech. "Now, youunderstand me, you highborn slut. You think you're running things around hereright now. That doesn't matter a bird's turd to me. If Kadakithis has developeda taste for painted tits, that's between you and him." She raised a finger, anda small, threatening little smile stole over her mouth. "But if I find hedoesn't approve of your residence or your highhanded attitude, if he's not afully agreeable party to your presence in his city"-the little smile blossomedinto a grin of malicious promise-"then I swear by my Rankan gods I'll hook youand scale you and clean your insides like any other fish sold in the market."

The Beysa's only response was an icy, unblinking stare. Then, a tiny green snakecrawled up from the folds of her skirt and coiled around her wrist like anemerald bracelet. Eyes of vermilion fire fastened on Chenaya. A bare sliver of atongue flicked between serpentine lips. It hissed, revealing translucent fangsthat glistened with venom.

"Quite a pet," Chenaya commented, undaunted. She stepped away then and drew aslow breath, willing her anger to abate. "Look," she said. "I've no great desireto make an enemy of you. I don't even know you. If you care for Kadakithis, thenyou have my good will. But if you're using him, watch out for yourself." Shedrew another slow breath and sighed. "I'm leaving now. I'm so glad we had thislittle talk."

She turned her back on the Beysa and strode from the apartment. The guardswaited in the hall beyond and escorted her through the palace, across thegrounds, and to the main gate. Her litter and four immense and heavily muscledmen clad only in sandals, crimson loincloths, and the broad, carved leatherbelts that were the fashion of Rankan gladiators waited just beyond.

"Dayme!" she hailed the largest of the four. "Come see the fish-eyes they hirefor guards around here!"

Coming to his mistress's side, Dayme laid a hand on the pommel of his sword. Anasty grin, not unlike the one Chenaya wore, twisted the comers of his lips. Hetowered head-and-shoulders above the tallest of the Beysa's men. "Not much tothem, is there. Lady?"

Chenaya patted the closest Beysib on the shoulder before she stepped through theconcealing silks of her conveyance. "But they're very sweet," she replied.

"Shupansea!" Molin Torchholder raged. His normally reserved and passive facereddened, and he shook- a fist at his niece. "She rules the Beysib people. Whenwill you ever learn to hold your cursed tongue, girl?"

Chenaya muttered an oath. Her father had brought Molin home after concluding thepurchase of the estate, and she'd made the mistake of mentioning her exchangewith the Beysa. She hadn't had a moment's peace in the past hour. Not even thesanctity of her dressing room gave her reprieve as he followed her through thehouse, questioning, berating.

She gave him a blistering glare. If the old priest had the balls to invade herchambers, he was going to get an eyeful. She ripped the silken garments from herbody with an angry wrench and cast them at his feet.

Molin sputtered and kicked the shredded clothing aside, ignoring her bare flesh."Damn everything, you spoiled brat!" He grabbed her arm and spun her around whenshe started to turn away. "You're not in Ranke anymore. You can't lord it overpeople as you once did. There are different political realities here!"