Fi spoke after the door closed behind him. “Things not going as planned?”
“Does anything?” Chrysabelle prayed Fi didn’t see that as an opening to ask about Mal. She pushed some stray hair behind one ear and quickly moved on. “How are you? How’s Doc? I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”
Fi shrugged. “So did everyone else. It was just me, Doc, his council members as witnesses, and Isaiah, Doc’s—I mean, our butler, who happens to be a minister of the Church of Bast, so he married us. Really, we just wanted to make it official and get on with our life.”
“I understand that. And I have to say, marriage suits you. You look… different. But in a good way.” Fi’s formerly long wavy hair was pin-straight and cut in a precise chin-length bob, her makeup impeccable, her clothes—which had always been good—seemed even better. “How’s Doc doing with his new position as pride leader?”
“He’s good. Busy. Running a pride is a twenty-four-seven job.” Fi looked down at her sleek little navy dress. “As for the rest of me, being the pride leader’s wife comes with access to all the best stuff, including a personal beauty team.” She laughed nervously. “Who knew?” Her smile washed out. “There’s so much stuff to go to. Meetings. Appearances. Dinners. It’s a lot of work.”
Which would explain the dark smudges under her eyes. Chrysabelle tipped her head to one side. “Sounds like it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Actually, yes.” Fi took a deep breath. “I want to learn to fight. More than that. I want to learn to win a fight.”
A slight alarm sounded in Chrysabelle’s head. “Why? Who’s threatening you?”
“No one. Yet. But that’s the point.” She hugged her arms around her body. “Barasa—he’s one of Doc’s council members and the pride’s main physician—he says a pride leader’s wife needs to know how to fight. And that opposition ‘rears its head’ at least once a year. More when the wife is new.”
“But I thought the only challenge that counts is one issued by the pride leader or his wife, right?”
“Yes, but…” Fi stared at the ceiling. “I’m not known for my even temper.” She shook her head and twisted the toe of one coral stiletto into the gym mat. “And it’s occurred to me that I might be a target. Doc isn’t always with me. I have a bodyguard almost all the time now when I go out.”
Chrysabelle looked over Fi’s shoulder. “Where is he now?”
“I made him stay with the car. I know how Velimai feels about strangers in her house. Sorry, your house. Yours and Damian’s. Whoever it belongs to now. You know what I mean.”
Chrysabelle rested her hand on top of Fi’s arm, hoping to ease some of her anxiety. “I’d be happy to help you.”
“You will? Awesome! Doc’s had his council members trying to teach me, but they’re varcolai. I don’t have that same strength or speed. Plus they’re guys. Who knows better how to fight like a girl than another girl?” Fi grinned. “I’ve seen you fight. You go hardcore. I wanna do that too.”
Dropping her hand, Chrysabelle laughed. “Hardcore it is then.” She raised her brows. “There’s a catch.”
“Does this have to do with—”
Before Fi could say “Mal” Chrysabelle spoke. “Remember how you offered to help me with changing my look? I’m ready.”
Fi’s eyes widened. “You are? Sweet! This is going to be so much fun.” She reached into the expensive-looking handbag hanging off her shoulder and pulled out a small bejeweled rectangle. She tapped the face, causing it to light up, then tapped another button and held it up to her mouth. “Pull samples for Chrysabelle.” Then she dropped the device back into her purse. “I love that phone. So much better than the comcell I used to have. I’ll be over in the morning and we’ll get started.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Bring a change of clothes and we can have your first lesson afterward.”
“I will.” Fi started toward the door, then stopped and twisted back. “It’s probably none of my business, but have you talked to Mal? I’ve been by the freighter but either he hasn’t been home or he’s avoiding me. I know things went south for you guys. I’m sorry about that. I really am.”
South? If hell was in that direction, then yes, things had gone south. Chrysabelle took a deep breath, willing it to calm her. “Thank you. No, I haven’t talked to him.” She turned a little, hiding her face. “He doesn’t love me anymore, Fi. I don’t have the slightest idea what to do about that. He was pretty adamant when he left here that I stay out of his life.”
Fi walked back. “I know Mal and if he loved you once, he’ll love you again. You still love him, right?”
There was no holding back the hitch in her breath that time. A shuddered exhale and when she found her voice, it wavered with the emotions she was trying to put behind her. “Of course, I love him. That’s why this hurts so much.” She closed her eyes, partially to hold back tears and partially to shut out the pain, but the ever-present ache she’d felt since losing Mal only blossomed in the dark.
“Then we’ll find a way to remind him of that.”
Opening her eyes, Chrysabelle shook her head. “I don’t think—”