Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

knew what was going on – “
    “Between us, do you mean?” He took a long, deep breath. “I never thought I’d be so – “
    ”Deluged with emotions?” she suggested.
    “To start with. But there’s more.” He found it difficult to release his hold of her. “I think we need to sit down again.”
    “Yes,” she agreed, her happiness beginning to well within her. “Come into the other room. We can be private there.”
    “In your bedroom?” His apprehension was more because of the potential for physical distraction than any questions of courtesy.
    “Not even the Emperor will interrupt us if the door is closed.” She smiled at him, her brown eyes luminous.
    “Then we’d be wise to close the door,” he said, and took her hand as she led the way into her bedroom.
    “If you want to sit in a chair, there are three to choose from. I’ll take one of those you don’t.” She glanced at the bed and the package which had contained her new clothes set out on it. “I think it would be pushing matters for either of us to sit there, don’t you?”
    “True enough. I wouldn’t vouch for my keeping my hands off you if we were on the bed, no matter how noble my intentions,” he said, and chose the broadest, most comfortable chair. “We can both sit in it.” To demonstrate, he sank into the cushions, and patted the space beside him.
    “Perhaps in half an hour,” she said, pulling up a high-backed, damask-upholstered chair. She sat down, leaning forward so that she could continue to hold his hand.
    He sighed. “You’re probably right,” he allowed.
    “I know. I, too, would rather share the bed. It would be such a delight, and comfort just now. And it could be illuminating.” She turned an imploring gaze on him. “If we weren’t in so much danger, I’d want to give into our desires. But that could be more risky still.”
    “I can’t argue with you,” he conceded. “But I’m looking forward to the time when we can.”
    “I am, as well.” She looked up sharply as if struck by a sudden insight. “How much have you told Riast? When you spoke to me, before the conjure-storm, you said many things that might be useful now.”
    “About Bozidar, you mean?” He considered the question. “I have spoken with the Emperor twice since then, and I’ve said as much as I think I can support through the experience of others, which isn’t a great deal. I’ve tried to avoid speculation.”
    “And what has Riast said?”
    “Only that his magicians don’t concur about Bozidar’s role in all this. Some say he is part of it, some say he has been made a scapegoat by the real traitors.”
    Erianthee scowled. “And what do you think?”
    “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “One day it seems that Bozidar is the culprit, another day it seems that he is nothing more than a tool, and still on another day, his apparent allies are Bozidar’s tools.”
    “But you’re not part of any of it?” There was an edge to this question and she made no apology for it.
    “No. No, of course not,” he said impatiently. “I’ve stumbled into this by some kind of accident, and I’m still stumbling.” This admission made him uncomfortable.
    “Then something must be done,” said Erianthee, and her hold on his hand tightened.
    “What did you have in mind?” he asked, anxiety mixing with hope as he gazed into her face.
    “Well,” said Erianthee, speaking more briskly than before. “I think I’ll tell the Emperor that I’ve decided to try to do a prophetic Shadowshow for him, but I’ll have a number of conditions to impose, including ten days to prepare. I might not be able to command the Spirits of the Outer Air to prophesy, but I think I can keep you from being implicated in whatever is going on, and that’s more important than prediction.” Unless, she added unhappily to herself, Kloveon really is part of the conspiracy, in which case, I may reveal him as a traitor. She released his hand. “I’m going to change,