Page 56 of Given

GIVEN

I could never look Laurent in the eye again. Which was a problem, because a servant had just delivered a message from him requesting my presence at dinner. And kings didn’t really make requests. When they “requested” something, that was just a polite command. Yes, my experience with kings was limited to my father and Rolund, and Laurent was cut from a different kind of cloth than the men in my family. But I knew without asking that, in this regard, he was very much a traditionalist.

I paced my chamber, my heavy skirts dragging along the floor. The dress was the finest I owned. Not that I truly owned anything in Nor Doru. I wore what Laurent provided. And now I knew he wanted my situation to stay that way. North or south, a wife in Ter Isir didn’t own property. Everything belonged to her husband.

Except maybe Lar Satha. If Laurent was telling the truth, my mother’s estate was mine no matter what. But would he really allow me to live there? If I refused his offer, would he let me set up a farm with my own servants to work the land? My own men-at-arms to safeguard the tower house?

It was a humble property. Far more modest than what I was used to, but it was mine. I’d wanted to explore it top to bottom today.

Instead, Laurent had explored me. Also top to bottom, my mind supplied.

Face flaming, I threw open the balcony doors and went to the railing. A light snow fell—the first of the season, according to the servants. It wouldn’t stop for months. Nor Doru’s summer was over.

I didn’t feel the cold. I didn’t see the city, either. As I gazed over the snow-covered streets, all I could see was a pair of silver eyes peering at me from between my legs. Even now, I felt a phantom tongue stroking between my thighs…a warm, hard piece of metal prodding and teasing. Gods, how could I have allowed him to do that? And so easily, putting up the minimal amount of resistance. I’d let him push me onto the bed, flip up my skirts, and lick me everywhere.

Everywhere.

I sucked in the chilly air, letting it burn my lungs as fat snowflakes drifted around me. They fell on my gown and disappeared, melting into the cloth. I’d soaked in a hot tub when I returned to the palace, but I could still smell Laurent’s scent. It was as if he’d branded me somehow. Left his mark on me. I ached between my legs where he’d pressed his tongue against my most intimate places. If his mouth stayed with me this long, what would it feel like if I accepted his offer and joined him in bed?

A crowded bed. He’d made that abundantly clear. If I became queen, our marriage bed would include the general. My whole life, I’d dreaded Sithistran marriage. I never wanted to be one of two wives always competing for a husband’s time and affection.

What Laurent proposed turned that arrangement on its head. If I married him, I wouldn’t be one of two wives. I’d have two husbands—or at least two men in my life.

“We could do a lot of things, the three of us.”

I shivered. Laurent’s tongue was a weapon…in more ways than one. The dirty, forbidden things he’d whispered in my ear weren’t the sort of things ladies were supposed to contemplate, let alone talk about. Elissa would have been outraged. Disgusted. Of course, she would have been disgusted at the idea of Laurent and Varick together, let alone the two of them sharing a bed with me But when I thought about it, disgust was the farthest thing from my mind. On the contrary, my body buzzed with curiosity.

With heat.

Laurent’s talented tongue had set me on fire, but his words had lit the match. And he was right: I wanted to watch him with Varick. Gods help me, I wanted to see their hard bodies twined together. Those firm, stubbled jaws locked in a kiss. I wanted to watch things I couldn’t even imagine, but my mind did its best to fill in the blanks.

I should have denied it. I should have slapped him and demanded he escort me to Lar Katerin at once. But I hadn’t, of course. I’d let him put his wicked mouth between my legs and make me writhe like the most wanton whore in Beldurn’s brothels.

I couldn’t possibly marry him…could I? It was all but ensure Rolund never spoke to me again. It might very well plunge the two kingdoms into war, ending five hundred years of peace. And what of Varick? Laurent spoke of the three of us like it was a settled thing. But the last time Varick and I spoke, he looked like he wanted to murder me.

Right after he almost kissed me.

Heat crept over my nape. He clearly hated my guts…or at least distrusted me. I certainly didn’t like him. So why did it feel like we were always two seconds away from reaching for each other? I hadn’t imagined that look in his eyes on the tower. Or at the feast. Or when we faced off at the Rift. It was like there was a current between us—some powerful tug of the tides not visible on the surface.

No, this was deeper. Hidden.

The chamber door opened behind me. Footsteps followed. Time had run out. Like it or not, I had to face Laurent—and try to think of something other than what passed between us today.

I left the balcony. When I stepped into the chamber, my eyes widened. “Rowena?”

She looked different than she had at the feast. Her brown, high-necked gown would be the height of fashion in Sithistra. In Nor Doru, it was plain, even dowdy. She came to me and put a hand on my forearm. “I wanted to speak to you alone.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Is something wrong? I haven’t seen you all week, and I wondered…” I trailed off as apprehension lifted the hairs on my nape. The charming, lighthearted woman from the feast was gone Now, her expression was somber.

She spoke below a whisper. “I need to give you something. A gift.” She lifted a bundle she’d kept hidden in her skirts. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in a silk cloth.

“A gift?” It had to be from Laurent.

She pressed it into my hand. “Open this when you’re alone, all right?” She lowered her voice, her lips barely moving. “The south is with you.”

“What?” I whispered. Discomfort twisted through me. My skin felt cold, then hot, then both at the same time.

“I’m so scared. If they hurt Harald…”

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