The Golden Barbarian (Sedikhan #1)

Chapter 7

She should be afraid, Tess realized drowsily, as she opened her eyes and first saw the huge dark silhouette framed against the blood-red sky beyond the slit of window. In his billowing cloak he reminded her of a fierce hawk limned in fire. Galen.

She wasn’t afraid. There was something supremely natural in waking and seeing Galen watching her. She was glad the waiting was over. The years had passed so slowly, the loneliness had gone on too long. “Galen…”

“Yes, I regret to disappoint you.” The harshness in his voice jarred her into full wakefulness. “But life is full of disappointments, isn’t it?”

She shook her head to clear it as she struggled upright in the chair. “You’re not supposed to be here. I didn’t expect you for another two days.”

“What bridegroom could resist rushing back to his beloved?” The heavy irony in his voice made her flinch. He moved across the room to the fireplace and knelt on the hearth. “Imagine my disappointment to find you had fled my eager arms.”

“You know I’m not your beloved.” She watched him strike flint to the wood in the grate, wishing desperately the room was not dark so she could see his expression. She was aware of something different in his demeanor, in the inflection of his voice. “You’re angry with me?”

“I was, but I’m not any longer.”

She was not reassured and blurted out quickly, “I know you told me I wasn’t to come here, but it was necessary.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“Kalim followed you.”

“Kalim…” She leaned forward in her chair, peering at the shadowy contours of his face. Now, she was beginning to suspect the reason for his anger. “I suppose he told you about that foolishness he—”

“I don’t want to discuss Kalim.” The spark caught, and suddenly the wood burst into flame. “His role in this is done.”

“I have to discuss Kalim, if I’m to—” She inhaled sharply as he turned his face toward her. The features were the same, but his expression made them alien to her. He looked younger, harder, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight, his lips curving in a reckless smile that held an element of cruelty. “I think it would be best if we talk,” she murmured.

“I’m done with talk.” He shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the carpet in front of the hearth. “And I’m done with waiting.”

Waiting. The word stirred something in her memory, a realization that had come to her in that half-waking state only a moment ago. “You’re not yourself. Let’s go back to the palace and we’ll—”

“On the contrary, you’ve never seen me more myself than I am at this moment.” He unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and dropped it carelessly on the floor. His tone was soft, easy, almost carefree, and yet Tess found herself tensing as if confronted by a wild animal. The comparison was apt because in this moment Galen seemed a magnificent catlike creature, lithe, silken, completely sensual.

He crossed to the windowsill and half sat, half leaned against it as he pulled off his boots, then his trousers. “Remove your clothing.” The words were spoken casually. “I wish you to be ready for me.” He glanced up at her and smiled faintly as he saw the way she stiffened. “As you must always be ready for me from this time on. At any hour and in any way I want you. I may not be sure your babe is mine, but I will not be cheated. There will be a child for the El Zalan.”

“Not yours?” She should be arguing with him, perhaps even be growing fearful, but she found she was only curious, fascinated by this new side to him.

“My pleasure will be in the result, if not the creation.” He was naked now and moving toward her across the chamber. She was again aware of his vibrant animal grace, the rippling muscles of his thighs that flexed as he walked, his arousal.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

She jerked her gaze from his lower body and slowly got to her feet. She could feel excitement pounding through her as she stared at him. “You really should listen to me.”

“That’s what I told myself.” He smiled. “But then I realized a man can blind himself with logic. Why try to find excuses for what is a woman’s nature? You were brought up by a strumpet, and it was unreasonable for me to expect you not to have the same morals.” He began to unfasten her gown. “You lusted, and I was not here to satisfy.” His smile widened as he saw the shiver run through her when his knuckles brushed against her breasts. “I won’t make that mistake again. You’ll travel wherever I go from now on.” He parted the bodice of her gown and looked down at her breasts. A dark flush mantled his cheeks, and his voice became thick. “But you’ll learn to please only me with your body.” He reached out and cupped her left breast in his hand.

She bit her lower lip to smother a cry. His palm was hard, callused against her softness, and sent a strange heat through her body.

His thumbnail flicked back and forth across the nipple, watching it grow hard and distended. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me, was Yusef a good lover?”

“Yusef wasn’t—” She broke off as his thumb and finger closed on her nipple, not roughly, but with just enough pressure to send hot flame tingling through her. Her spine arched helplessly toward him. She had not dreamed her flesh could be this sensitive to mere touch. She couldn’t breathe. Her breasts were lifting and falling as she tried to force air into her lungs.

“I believe we won’t talk of Yusef.”

“I wasn’t the one who brought him up,” she said indignantly.

“I was wrong. I didn’t know how angry I’d feel hearing his name on your lips.” He drew a deep breath, his hand opening and closing on her breast. “And I didn’t think I’d care if I hurt you, but I find the idea oddly distasteful.”

He was only squeezing her breast, yet the caress was generating a mysterious aching emptiness between her thighs. She moistened her lips with her tongue. “I wouldn’t let you hurt me.”

“A woman is helpless in certain positions.… And I intend you to know every one of them.” His hand dropped away, and he turned his back on her. “I’m growing impatient. Strip off your other garments if you don’t wish me to tear them from you. You must have clothing to wear back to the palace.”

She hesitated, trying to decide what to do. Instinct urged her to continue to try to explain, but he clearly didn’t want to listen. Besides, wasn’t this what she, too, wanted? The anticipation he had fostered in her for this new experience was approaching fever pitch. She wanted to know . Why should she deny what she wanted because his words annoyed her?

She slipped the divided gown off her shoulders and let it fall into a pool at her feet.

“Why did no one feel compassion for the witch?” Galen asked in a low voice.

She blinked. “What?”

“The witch must have felt affection for Rapunzel to have wanted to keep her safe from the sorrows of the world. Yet the sympathy is for those who betrayed her.”

“I don’t know what to—”

“Never mind. The thought just occurred to me.”

She stepped over her gown, sat on the chair, and took off her stockings and suede boots. Then she stood. What did she do now? What did he want of her? She stepped closer and began to loosen the ribbon tying his queue.

The muscles of his back rippled as her breasts brushed his flesh. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t this why you turned your back on me?”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “I turned my back so that I could keep myself from lifting you and thrusting in you as you stood there.”

She was immediately interested. “Is that possible?”

“Yes.” His breathing was uneven. “More. Probable.”

“I don’t believe I ever saw Pauline do—” She stopped as he turned to her. “Will it hurt?”

“Not if you’re ready for me.”

“How do I know if I’m ready?”

“How? Yusef must have proved very inadequate if you don’t know—” He broke off with a sardonic smile. “Good, I dislike the thought of him teaching you everything.” His lips tightened. “Anything.” He stepped closer, his hand cupping her womanhood, rubbing, caressing. Two fingers probed, explored. “Lord, you’re tight.”

She gasped as she felt the intimate intrusion. “Perhaps we’d better not—”

“The hell we won’t,” he muttered. “But not this way.” He pulled her down on his cloak and knelt, facing her. “You’re too little.”

She dimly remembered what he had told her on their wedding night. “You said a woman was meant to take a man.”

“I obviously shouldn’t have been so general. You were meant to take me.” His tone was almost a growl as he pushed her onto her back and parted her thighs. “Be quite still, and let me look at you.”

But looking wasn’t the only thing he was doing. His fingers were parting, probing, his gaze fastened on that most private part of her. Sudden shyness overwhelmed her, and she quickly shut her eyes. She felt as if she were melting into the cloak beneath her. Her breasts lifted and fell with every breath as she lay exposed and vulnerable before him while shiver after hot shiver stabbed through her.

His palms moved upward, sliding over her hips to fasten on either side of her slim waist. “Merde , you’re tiny. My hands almost reach around you.” His grip tightened, letting her feel the hard power of his hands. “I could break you, if I wished.” He released her waist, and his palms glided slowly over her flesh down her belly to the curls surrounding her womanhood. “But I’d have to be mad to destroy this.” His fingers tangled, combed, petted the soft curls. “Look at me.”

Her eyes opened. He was bending over her. His dark eyes glittered wildly in his flushed face as his hand searched. “I want to see you enjoy me. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about doing this?” He found what he had been searching for, and his thumb and forefinger closed upon her.

Her eyes widened in shock as a hot wave of convulsive pleasure tore through her.

He plucked and squeezed gently, skillfully, his gaze narrowed on her face, absorbing every nuance of expression. “Heat, Tess?”

“Yes…” She could barely force the word through the haze of pleasure he was bringing her. The tempo of the plucking accelerated, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. She could feel the muscles of her stomach clenching, her spine arched helplessly up from the floor toward him. “Dear heaven, what—what are you doing to me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered as he widened her thighs and moved between them, nudging at the heart of her womanhood. “You had to be ready for me.”

She tensed and immediately felt his hands on her belly, stroking, smoothing, soothing her. “Easy…” he murmured.

She doubted if he was even aware of that last action, for his expression reflected only a heavy dazed sensuality, and the words were spoken abstractedly. A flutter of warmth surged through her as she realized that no matter how deep his anger, he was instinctively trying to make the experience more palatable for her. She mustn’t be such a coward about an act that happened to all women, she thought impatiently. This was what she had wanted him to do to her. “Go ahead,” she whispered. “Now. I’m ready.”

A harsh sound burst from him as he plunged forward.

She cried out as he broke through the barrier and buried himself deep within her.

She heard his shocked oath as he froze above her, but she was too busy trying to adjust to the intruder in her body. Pain was fading, and she was beginning to feel a delicious fullness.

“The hell you were ready,” he said hoarsely. “Why didn’t—”

“Hush.” She was savoring their joining, but rapidly discovering it wasn’t enough. The aching emptiness was still not satisfied. “Don’t talk. Move. I want to feel you.”

He was still a moment, and then a crooked smile crossed his face. “Oh, you will. You’re right, it’s too late for talk.” He withdrew, then began to thrust, slow, fast, shallow, deep. “Like this?”

She nodded frantically, her head moving back and forth on the cloak as a hot tension began to build within her.

He stopped for a moment, his hands reaching blindly out to cup her breasts. “Merde , you’re holding me too tight—you’re killing me.”

Did that mean she was doing something wrong? Yet he didn’t look in pain. He hunched over her, driving in and out, his dark hair streaming about his shoulders, his eyes shut, and an expression of agonized pleasure on his face.

She tried to move, to help him, but he was losing control, bucking, lifting her from the floor with each thrust. She could only hold on to him, lost in a delirium of sensation.

He rolled over, muttering wild words beneath his breath as he pulled her on top of him and bucked upward, again and again and again. Then, still not satisfied, he rolled over again and sat up, lifting her legs to curve around his hips. “You’re not taking enough.” His flesh was pulled tight over his high cheekbones, his lips heavy with sensuality as his hips jerked feverishly back and forth. “I need you close, part of me…”

“I’m trying.…” She didn’t know if he heard her. There was no trace of the controlled Galen she had come to know in this untamed sensualist leading her through an erotic haze. He shifted again, changed positions, and fresh waves of sensation jolted through her.

Her nails bit into his shoulders as the pace quickened. She couldn’t take any more. The heat was too intense, yet it continued to rise feverishly within her.

Beauty. Hunger. Searching.

He plunged deeper, stronger. She could hear the harsh rasp of his breath above her. “Close.” His teeth were clenched. “So close. I can’t—”

From somewhere far away she heard the low animal cries she was making deep in her throat. Mating. Splendor.

Completion.

She heard Galen’s low groan above her as he threw back his head, a massive shudder racking his big body.

Beautiful, she thought dazedly as she looked up at his face above her. Galen’s expression in this moment was almost as beautiful as the release climaxing through her. She had given him that look of supreme pleasure, she realized with fierce satisfaction.

He fell forward, his elbows braced on either side of her to spare her his weight. His chest moved in and out as he tried desperately to catch his breath. He didn’t move for a moment, flexing within her. She could feel his heartbeat heavy, fast against her breast.

Then, slowly, jerkily, he sat up, his chest still heaving painfully with every breath. He muttered an oath as he got off her and stood up. He padded barefoot to the hearth, snatched up her cloak from the chair, and came back to where she lay on the carpet. “Sit up.”

“Not yet.” She didn’t want to move. She wasn’t sure she would ever want to move again. What a delicious languor, she thought dazedly. It was almost more delightful than the sensations that had gone before. “Later…”

He frowned down at her. “Did I hurt you?”

She tried to remember through the after-haze of the emotional storm through which she had just plummeted during the last moments. “I think so. A little. At first…”

“It was entirely your fault. Merde , what stupidity. Don’t you know what I could have done to you?” The roughness of his voice was belied by the gentleness of his hands as he knelt and tucked the cloak about her. “You should have told me Yusef hadn’t touched you.”

“You didn’t want to listen.”

“You should have made me listen.” He sat down on the carpet beside her and linked his arms over his knees, the muscles of his shoulders and arms ridged with tension. “It was a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Would you have believed me?”

He was silent a moment. “Probably not. I—I was not myself.”

Yet she believed the passionate recklessness she had discovered in Galen tonight was as much a part of him as the disciplined man she had learned to know. “Then why are you angry?”

“I believe the question should be why you aren’t angry with me for forcing you.”

“Because you didn’t force me.” She sat up and drew his cloak around her. “You should know that. Merde , you took long enough arousing my curiosity about the act.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “I hope more than your curiosity was satisfied.”

She nodded briskly. “Oh yes, I enjoyed it very much. No wonder Pauline is so fond of the sport.”

The faintest smile touched his lips. “Then you’ve decided she doesn’t indulge herself merely because she has nothing better to do?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “It’s very…”—she searched for a word—”strong, isn’t it? I never realized…”

“It has to be experienced.” He was silent a moment. “Do you still hurt?”

“I’m a trifle sore.” She wrinkled her nose. “But no more than I was after that first day I rode astride. Actually, your pounding was far gentler than Pavda’s gait.”

Surprise crossed his face, and he threw back his head and laughed. “Dear God in heaven, if you’re not comparing me to your father, you’re likening me to your horse.”

She grinned. “You shouldn’t object. I’ve heard gentlemen delight in calling themselves stallions.”

His smile faded. “With strumpets a man can be a stallion. A virgin deserves gentleness.”

“I didn’t mind. I found it all very interesting. I believe I must not have been a proper virgin.”

His eyes twinkled. “A virgin cannot be anything but proper, else she wouldn’t be a virgin.”

“You know what I mean.” She glanced away from him. “As usual, I was too bold. I liked it too much.”

“To my infinite delight.”

Her gaze shifted back to him. “Truly?”

“Truly,” he answered solemnly. “I should have expected nothing else from you.” He gently touched her hair with his fingertips. “Life, kilen.”

Joy surged through her with a heady force that dispersed the languor. She smiled radiantly. “I’m glad you don’t mind my lack of meekness. I should hate to have to—” She broke off as she heard a familiar tinkle of bells, a dry rustling. “Alexander!”

“What?”

She threw the cloak aside, scrambled to her feet, and ran across the chamber. “It’s Alexander. He’s back.”

“Who in hades is Alexander?”

She ignored the question as she reached the window. “Come in, you idiot. It’s a wonder you didn’t get lost in the dark.”

Alexander flew through the window and landed on the mantel above the fireplace.

Galen stared in astonishment as the pigeon waddled along the wide stone mantel. “A bird?”

“Not just any bird. He’s my homing pigeon. I told you about him the second day I arrived in Zalandan.”

“Ah, yes. How could such an important tidbit of information have escaped my memory?” He watched her pick up the bird and carry it toward the wicker cage under the window. “I confess my mind was occupied by a few trifling matters. Bandits, tribal wars, unity…I take it this Alexander has something to do with why you’re here?”

“Of course.” She glanced at him in surprise. “Kalim was going to cut off Yusef’s head. Besides, the flight from Yusef’s roof was no longer a challenge for Alexander.” She frowned down at the bird. “No, I’m not going to give you any grain. You don’t deserve it. You were supposed to go back to Zalandan.” She closed the cage. “I get very impatient with him. The silly bird probably flew all the way to Said Ababa and back.”

“You used Yusef’s house to train your pigeon?”

“It has the highest roof in Zalandan. Alexander’s not at all clever, and I thought he’d have a better chance of finding the palace if he could see it.” She scowled down at the warbling bird, “Listen to him coo at me. He probably doesn’t even realize he did anything wrong.” She took three grains from the leather pouch beside the cage and slipped them through the wicker bars and told the bird sternly, “This isn’t a reward, you understand. I just don’t want you to starve to death.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kalim?”

She didn’t look at him. “He wouldn’t have believed it. He has no liking for me.” She turned and lifted her chin defiantly. “Besides, why should I explain myself to him? Why should I let him tell me what I must do or what I must not do?”

“Because in this instance it might have saved you a modicum of unpleasantness.”

“I experienced no unpleasantness.” Her brow wrinkled. “But for a moment or two you made me uneasy when I first woke up. You behaved most peculiarly.”

He turned to look down at the fire. “As I said, I was not myself. I do not like this place.”

“Why not?”

“It reminds me of what I was.” His lips twisted. “I think for a while tonight I became what I was then.”

“And you believe that is wicked?”

“Don’t you?”

For a moment she could sense an uncertainty and loneliness beneath the guard he usually kept around himself. She wanted to help him, comfort him in some way, but she knew he wouldn’t let her. Yet she had discovered one comfort they both enjoyed he would accept from her. “No.” She met his gaze fearlessly as she moved across the room to stand before him. “Not wicked. Different and…interesting.”

He shook his head. “But then you find the entire world interesting.”

She nodded. “But I know the difference between wicked-interesting and intriguing-interesting.”

“And what is that?”

“Tamar is wicked-interesting. I would not like him to touch me.” She reached out and put her hand on the triangle of dark hair thatching his chest. “But I like you to touch me.”

He went still. “How fortunate for me.”

“I would like to do it again, please.”

“Now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.” She found it difficult to meet his eyes, so she flowed into his arms and laid her cheek on his chest. “I find looking at you is causing me to feel…I would like to do it again.”

“You’re not too sore?”

“No.” She lifted her head and whispered, “And I would like you to kiss me. You haven’t done that yet.”

“Oh yes.” His lips brushed hers as he gently pushed her back on the carpet. “There are many kinds of kisses, and we enjoyed one of the most pleasant ones. But I shall be delighted to show you many more.” He parted her thighs and moved between them. “By all means, we must keep life interesting for you.”

Tess cradled her head on her arm and gazed contentedly across the chamber at Alexander in his cage. His beady eyes stared back at her as he gave a soft warble. She felt an odd kinship for Alexander at the moment. She had soared herself this night. She had never dreamed when she had come to the tower this afternoon that she would be lying here replete and wondering at the pleasure touch could bring. She had only wished to know more about the puzzle that Galen posed. For that matter she still wished to know, and this might be a very good moment to broach the subject.

“What happened in this place?” Tess turned over on her other side to look at Galen. “Why didn’t you want me to come to the tower?”

Galen was silent for a long time, and she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. “My mother died here.”

“Here in the tower? You said she died in a fall from her horse.”

“She died running away from the tower.” He looked at the leaping flames curling around the wood in the fireplace. “My father killed her lover in the guardroom downstairs. She ran out the door, jumped on her horse, and tried to get away from him.” He paused. “Fifteen minutes later we found her crushed beneath her horse on the road to Said Ababa.”

“We?” She stiffened with shock. Galen had told her he was only a boy of twelve when his mother died. “You were there?”

He nodded jerkily. “When my father learned that she was meeting her lover in this tower, he sent for me. He told me my mother was a whore who had betrayed us both and must be punished. He said she had never had any affection for either of us and was planning to flee with her lover to Said Ababa.”

“Harsh words.”

“True words. I knew she had never loved me.” He paused. “But I didn’t want her to die. I thought if I went with my father to the tower, I might find a way to save her.”

“Perhaps you were mistaken. Most mothers have some affection for their children.”

“Not mine. When I was old enough to leave the nursery, she immediately abandoned me to my father.”

“That could have been by his will.”

He shook his head. “She hated me. She told me so.” He shrugged. “Perhaps she had reason. My father saw her for thirty minutes on the streets of Diran and kidnapped her and brought her to Zalandan to be his concubine.”

“That was your father’s sin, not yours.”

“She saw only my father in me. She once told me that I would grow up to be a barbarian like him, and she wished I had died in her womb.”

Tess shivered with distaste. “She sounds a very unpleasant woman. You were probably better off with your father.”

“Better a barbarian than a whore?”

“Was he a barbarian?”

“Yes, he was far worse than Tamar. And he taught me well. By the time I passed my thirteenth year, I was the savage my mother had called me.” His glance shifted from the fire to her face. “I remember on my sixteenth natal day I got drunk and brought several whores and a few friends here for a feast to celebrate.” He saw her eyes widen. “Ugly? Oh yes, but that was what I was. Tamar and I drank and feasted and orgied for three days. Something about the place drove me into a frenzy.”

Despair. Desperation. Tess didn’t voice the words, but she moved closer to him.

“Tamar killed one of the whores in a drunken rage.” Galen looked back at the fire. “He strangled her.”

“You couldn’t stop him?”

“I was drunk too. I woke the next morning and found her lying dead on the bed between us. For a moment I thought I had done it myself. I was sick and cold with disgust. Then I looked at Tamar and realized what I was becoming, what I already was.” His voice turned fierce. “What we all were. There had to be another path, the blood lust and lawlessness couldn’t go on.” He got to his knees and stoked the fire. “That was the last time I came to the tower.”

She shivered as she looked around the chamber. Now that she realized the debauchery and violence that had taken place here, the very walls seemed to exude a sinister air. In this tower Galen had known enough pain and disillusionment to have destroyed a weaker man. Instead, he had been hammered, honed to greater strength. Yet this place must abrade his spirit.

She sat up and threw off the cloak covering her. “I’ve had enough of this place.” She stood up and grabbed her gown from the floor and stepped into the divided skirt. “It no longer interests me. I wish to go back to the palace.”

“Now?” Galen turned to look at her. “I thought we’d wait until first light.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t sleep.” She dropped down on the huge chair and pulled on her boots. “This is not a good place.”

He sat back on his haunches and smiled faintly. “I believe I could pique your interest, if you cared to stay until dawn.”

She smiled cheerfully. “I’m sure you could. I find I like bed play very much, and you are most skillful at it, aren’t you?”

“I endeavor to please.” His voice lowered as his gaze fastened on her breasts. “While pleasing myself.”

“Well, we can do that back at the palace.” She stood up, located his clothes, and tossed them to him. “I’m sure well be more comfortable, and Alexander will be happier home in his aviary.

“Ah, yes, the well-traveled Alexander.” He smiled, “We mustn’t forget him.”

“Not well -traveled.” Tess grimaced. “He does everything badly.” She shrugged. “But hell learn in time. I have three years before he has to be proficient.”

He stopped in midmotion of pulling on his boot. “You’ve set yourself a time limit?”

“Of course. I’ve grown very fond of Viane, and if I can train Alexander, I see no reason why we can’t exchange messages after I leave Sedikhan.”

“Indeed?” He jerked on his boot with sudden force and stood up. “You’re already planning your departure? I might remind you that there are certain goals to be reached before you’ll be permitted to leave Zalandan.”

“The babe?” She crossed to the window and stooped down to pick up the wicker cage. “That shouldn’t take long now that we’ve made such a good start. I’m young and healthy, and if God wills, I should be heavy with child by autumn.” She looked at him. “If I cannot use the tower, we must find another place to free Alexander. Do you know of such a place?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he stood up and moved toward the door. “I’ll think on it.”

He was angry, she realized with surprise. She could feel the tension and displeasure emanating from him even at the distance separating them. “You need not trouble yourself to accompany me. Just tell me where—”

He turned to her. “Listen well,” he said deliberately. “From this moment on I will be behind you, beside you, or within you. When you return to the palace, it will be to my chamber and my bed. You will not travel over the countryside alone or under the protection of any other man. I may have only three years, but they are going to be my years.”

Before she could answer, he had flung open the door, and the next moment she heard the sound of his boots on the stone steps.

Tess hesitated, gazing after him in confusion. Alexander gave a low call, and she glanced down at him absently. “Be quiet. We’re going.”

She shrugged as she began to negotiate the spiral stone staircase. Galen’s attitude might be bewildering, but many good things had come out of this night in addition to the pleasure he had taught her. She had begun to understand the experiences that had created him and the battles he constantly fought.

No, she was not at all sorry she had come to the tower.