Page 59 of The Stolen Kingdom

If she stood, she knew she was going to make a fool of herself again. She shook her head, but Eyphah pulled her to her feet, steadied her and led her to the plaza. The vibration of the drums seeped through her skin, reaching through her stomach and to her chest, squeezing it. Yet, instead of feeling breathless, the exhilaration came forth as goosebumps all over her arms and shoulders.

Closing her eyes, she let the music wash over her. She squeezed Eyphah’s hand as the other woman spun her, then released her into a joyful crowd of Sealians. The music pulsed through her lungs and mind until only the rhythm of the drums remained.

Opening her eyes, she found Kimmi looking at the drummers, hunched and dancing in front of them. Her movements marking the rhythm created by the harsh slaps to the leather. Her sweet voice penetrated Maris’s head fog, dissipating the alcohol enough to hear the lyrics the young girl sang.

The song shifted to all the reasons to go back to the Sea Kingdom. Kimmi begged to be under a gentler sun, to play on white sand and crystal-clear waters of the Sea Kingdom’s beaches, she begged to go back to cool nights instead of freezing in the Sky kingdom. She wished to play on the magical bridges, to run on green grass, to eat food from their own land.

As if spellbound, Maris body moved with the beat of the music, her shoulders and hips giving way to the sharp slaps against the leather drums. Kimmi gave way, allowing Maristo stand before the musicians. With her hand on her hips, she dipped her head, saluting them before creating a song with every sway of her hips and shoulders.

Kimmi’s voice pierced through her again, the song pouring out of her. She prayed to Poseidon for protection for the upcoming war, to keep them all safe, and showed them the way to go back to the Sea Kingdom.

They were at war, and the only thing they wanted was to go back to their homeland. And what was Maris doing? Dancing as if they had nothing to worry about.

What kind of leader was she?

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed Maris’s, pulling her away from the drummers and spinning her into the throng of dancing Sealians. The abrupt motion made her head spin, and she squeezed her eyes shut as the chilly night air cooled her flushed, damp skin, easing the heat of the alcohol rising to her cheeks and head.

The rhythm of the drums pounded behind her as Maris opened her eyes to find a pair of tired features gazing down at her with a sweetness she hadn’t seen in months.

Warm arms enveloped her, pulling her into a softness she wasn’t accustomed to. Tilting her head, she let those eyes bore into hers. The darkness of the night blurred their color, but she found an unexpected tenderness there.

Amid the mist of music, the heat of alcohol, and the humid air of the night, Maris surrendered to the comforting embrace.

Valda?

Her trembling hands reached out, brushing the sides of a face she thought she’d never touch again. A damp forehead pressed gently to hers, and she sighed, closing her eyes.

Valda… She’s here.

“Darling…” Maris whispered, her voice trembling as her hands traced the back of a powerful neck. “You’re here, darling?”

Then, hot, moist lips captured hers.

Maris groaned at the sudden contact. The touch was familiar yet strange, tender yet filled with heat. Her hands slid to rest on taut shoulders, her fingers curling instinctively. She had missed this—missed the feel of firm muscles beneath soft skin. She had missed the way her body reacted to this connection, a longing far beyond what her dreams could ever satisfy.

Her pulse throbbed between her thighs as she parted her lips, swallowing a hesitant gasp.

Hesitant? Since when was Valda hesitant?

“I am here, love.”

Maris frowned, her mind faltering.Love?

“Valda?” she asked, her voice cracking.

The body she held tense instantly.

“Valda? Really? Are you fucking kidding me?”

The voice that cut through her thoughts wasn’t Valda’s but Eyphah’s, sharp and trembling.

Maris gasped, her breath catching painfully. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest.Valda didn’t have cobalt eyes—Valda’s were honey-bright, not this.

The pounding of the drums returned, accompanied by a sobering clarity as the alcohol’s haze evaporated. Maris stepped back, her chest tightening.

Before her, Eyphah stood frozen, her lower lip quivering and her fists clenched at her sides. “I thought you…”

“No,” Maris barked, shaking her head as her hand shot into her hair. “I can’t.”

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