Page 103 of Shadow Kissed

I grin back at him and, nodding my head, I take a step back and head for the stairs.

“Oh, and Reya,” he says, causing me to pause and glance over my shoulder. “You were amazing out there today.”

I flush red at his compliment, and ducking my head, I ascend the stairs. As I make my way to the west wing, I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

39

REYA

When I enter our wing, the girls suggest we all get ready together. Tyria announces we need to help each other choose our outfits for tonight, and we move from room to room, picking out something nice to wear. The girls try to convince me to wear a dress, and I eventually agree to wear a pair of pale blue culotte trousers that hang loose on my waist, giving the illusion of a full skirt, paired with a corset of the same colour to match with chiffon sleeves that gather at the wrist in silver stitching. Orna and the other maids help us with our hair. She persuades me to style mine half up with a pretty blue bow at the back and I have to admit when I look in the mirror at the finished result; I stare, mouth open, at the woman reflected back at me.

Orna claps her hands together and smiles widely. “You are stunning, Reya. That commander will be salivating at the sight of you tonight.”

I roll my eyes at her through my reflection in the mirror. “Like I care what the commander thinks of me.”

It’s Orna’s turn to respond with a dramatic eye roll. “Whatever you say, miss. Enjoy having him at your mercy this evening.” She winks at me, grinning, before she bundles up my dirty laundry and leaves me to go and find the girls. I enter our living space, where the girls are waiting for me. They all look beautiful in their dresses. We’d all agreed that we didn’t want to overdo it for the local inn, so we’ve opted for clothing that was pretty but casual.

“Ah, behold us.” Tyria grins, coming over to me and wrapping an arm over my shoulder. “Gather in ladies. Tonight, we are going to dance, drink, and maybe flirt with a scath or two!”

“Here, here!” Alora chimes, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve never been in an inn before. Will there be cake?”

We all laugh at her cuteness. “No cake, I’m afraid. It will mainly reek of sweat, stew and spilled krim, but the atmosphere can be quite something,” I inform her, and she wrinkles her nose at the mention of sweat.

Tyria waggles her dark brows. “I plan to get to know that handsome Jasiel better this evening. Have you observed how well-defined that man’s buttocks are in those jodhpurs?”

“You are terrible.” Saveya chuckles, playfully slapping Tyria with her shawl. “But he does have a very pert bottom.”

“Okay! Enough talk of bottoms. The night is ours, ladies,” I say, ushering them towards the door. My mind isn’t on Jasiel’s bottom but instead on the panty-melting eyes of the Lord Commander.

Jasiel and Raegal and two of their soldiers, Finor and Kymil, are waiting for us in the hallway with Moryen as we descend the stairs. Whatever conversation had been taking placeceases when they see us. I dare to lift my head, and I find his eyes eating me up as I close the distance between us. Those same eyes that held mine prisoner as he claimed me last night.

“Ladies,” Jasiel greets, coming forward to take Tyria’s hand as she steps off the stairs. “You all look absolutely ravishing.”

“I’m still not happy about this,” Moryen says with a grumble. “But the Lord Commander assures me you will be under their constant supervision. Ladies, please remember that you represent this school and everything we stand for.”

We all nod. Willing to agree to anything for a night of freedom.

“I want them all back no later than midnight, Lord Commander, and in one piece.” Her eyes land on me. “And I want no trouble.”

I roll my eyes. Why does she always fix her attention on me when she talks about trouble?

The men shadow weave us down to inn and when we enter, it’s bustling with revellers and those enjoying a well-earned drink after a day’s work. Raegal nods to the inn keeper when we enter, and he gestures over to a table right at the back near the stairwell. Folk notice us as we make our way through the room. It’s hard to miss Raegal and Jasiel and then add in five purple eyed females and it’s enough to cause plenty of stares. However, once we’re seated, the occupants of the room seem happy to return to their own evenings.

The inn keeper strides over, warmly greeting the men; he clearly knows them well. He tells us it is an honour to have us in his inn and that anything we desire we need only ask. A server brings a jug of krim and Braeberry juice over to our table. Raegal reaches for the juice, and I reach out and stop him from pouring some in my cup.

“Come on, Lord Commander,” I say, my eyes darting over to the jug of krim. “You said tonight we could celebrate our win.”

Raegal doesn’t respond straight away, but I watch as he puts down the jug of juice and pours me a mug of krim. “Just pace yourselves, is all I ask.”

I nod my head and side glance at the girls, who all grin in anticipation. “I’ve never tasted krim before,” Alora confesses. When Jasiel pours her a mug and hands it to her, she lifts it to her nose and smells it. “Ugh, that smells vile.”

Tyria reaches out to take it from her, telling her she’ll take it off her hands, but Alora swiftly snatches her arm back out of her clutches. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t drink it.” She lifts the cup to her lips and takes a big drink. Her eyes widen and she places the mug down, spluttering. “It tastes like dead men’s feet.”

This has everyone around the table laughing loudly. I take a drink and sigh in contentment. Being here felt as close to home as possible. The smells, the noise, it reminds me of one of the few places in Terleigh where I had felt accepted.

Over by the window, a man takes a seat on a small wooden stool and strums on his Cithara. A man joins him with his accordion and sings of the lure of a woman with blue eyes and wanton lips.

“So, Lord Commander, what did you think of Reya’s run of the gauntlet today?” Tyria asks Raegal as he pours himself a mug of krim. He leans back in his seat and observes me with a slow, lazy perusal from across the table.

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