Page 134 of A Dance of Water

The horse grew unsettled once more, and Tharen’s voice rang out through the stables:

"Ori, Osa has asked for you."

Was her fire-tempered maid and this young male related?

"Good day, Princess." His tone was filled with mischief. She mumbled a half-hearted farewell, listening to his footsteps as he left. "Master Tharen," Ori teased, voice further away, "she’s pretty. Are you sure she’s just a captive?" His light words cut off with a yelp, and Tharen chuckled. It was a softer sound, lacking the usual malice.

"Mind your business, Ori, or I’ll tell your father I caught you meddling in the kitchens with the cook again," Tharen warned.

"Yes, Master!" Ori quickly replied. His steps crunched over the dry hay on the ground as he retreated.

Now alone with the mage, the jovial lilt to his tone grew hard as he said, "What did you two talk about?"

Luella smiled softly. She liked Ori. He was kind, almost like a younger brother. "Carrots," she simply replied.

"Carrots?" Tharen repeated as he walked closer to her. She felt him at her side, and she shivered.

How could a male such as he save someone? She wanted to ask him, but the words tangled in her throat, held back by fear.

There was a brief silence and a soft knock on the pail at her feet. Something hard poked against her bottom lip, and she jerked back.

"What—" The hard thing pressed against her mouth, digging into her lip.

"Come on," Tharen teased. "I thought lambs ate carrots."

She moved her head to the side. "You’re a-awful."

Tharen pulled the carrot away from her mouth. "But at least I can satisfy you. Do you have any plans to bathe with the demon again? Do let me know so I can prepare." He stroked his fingers over the side of her cheek. "Or better yet, don’t. I love the thought of you popping into my bed, desperate and wanting."

Her cheeks were hot at the image. She would never give him what he wanted.

She opened her mouth to tell him this, but a large door creakedopen and footsteps echoed off what she imagined to be the tall ceilings of the stables.

"Tharen," Vale called out. "I hope you are not teasing her. She’s not to be wound up before we train."

Tharen’s fingers curled slightly against her cheek. "Intense emotions make her powers stronger. I’m merely conducting an experiment." His tone was flat, and something in her chest ached at the thought of him viewing her as some inanimate object. He stepped away, and she exhaled in relief.

The threads in her soul hummed at their proximity. She knew they were all here.

"Prepare the horses," Graves said as he passed by her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, only for them, "You’ll be riding with me again, sweetheart."

Quickly, they saddled the horses. She mounted with the help of Graves, who held her closely the whole journey. His gloved palms stroked absently against her lower stomach, and every shift of the horse had her belly clench in awareness. Bastian whispered soft conversation with her in her mind, light topics of books and poetry. Vale and Tharen were up ahead, she felt from the threads, never breaking their fast pace as they led them to the place from yesterday.

The steady song of her and Az’s thread was muted today. She mourned the sweet, niggling of it against her soul, almost as though a blanket had been thrown over it to keep it quiet.

The rain never let up the entire journey, drenching her through her cloak. Her skin was damp under her clothes. It relented, a loud pitter-patter as it fell onto the thick canopy above, and she knew they were almost there.

Graves dismounted first, then gripped her waist and helped her down. She stumbled into him, her lower body sore. "Walk this way," he mumbled as he took her hand.

He led her a few steps, her boots sinking into the muddy ground. She found herself missing the snow.

"Where is Az?" she whispered.

Graves placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her just so. "He’s here, sweetheart."

Something about his tone made Luellaanxious.

"We’ll start with our grounding exercises like yesterday," Tharen announced from beside her. "Let her go," he demanded of Graves.

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