Page 72 of A Monsoon Rising

“Itold her they were,” Jie muttered to Alaric.

He clapped a hand over his mouth in order to suppress the chuckle threatening to burst from his throat. Cake batter plastered Talasyn’s loose brown hair to her forehead; it dripped from her chin and trickled down the front of her sequined bodice. Although her eyes were closed, she stiffened at the sound of his aborted laugh and then his footsteps as he made his way over to her.

“Don’t start with me,” she growled.

Something in Alaric’s chest began to thaw—an arctic tightness that he didn’t even realize had been there in the first place, having lived with it for so long. The two cooks hastily backed away and he grabbed a fresh hand towel, using it to wipe the pink batter from Talasyn’s face. This was not how he’d imagined their reunion going, but she’d always been something of an expert in throwing him for a loop.

“Dabbling in the culinary arts now, are we?” he quipped.

“We were testing dessert options for the masquerade,” Talasyn grumbled. “The cake mix exploded right as you arrived.”

Alaric frowned. “You were not scalded—”

“Not at all, we’d barely fired up the stove.”

There was an edge to her assurance, the way there always was whenever he professed concern for her. As though she couldn’t understand what he got out of it. He held back a sigh as he patted the bridge of her nose clean, as well as the skin around her eyes. Her lashes fluttered tentatively, and then brown irises were peering up at him from a face still smeared with pink batter at the sides. She presented an absurd picture, and yet—

“Um.” Talasyn bit her lip. “Welcome back. Hi.”

The moment spun through time in a thread of gold. As Alaric stared down at his wife, all of the stress that he had felt over the past month—all of his fears for tonight—melted away. “Hello.”

The Talasyn of nearly a year ago, that war-torn orphan, would never have dared to let Alaric Ossinast move through a room while her eyes were closed and she wasn’t aethermancing. That she did so now was an irony far from lost on her. After recovering from her embarrassment—she reallyshouldhave left the cooking to the kitchen staff—she furtively watched her husband, reacquainting herself with his careful movements, his sharp features. Trying to determine if anything about him had changed since they last saw each other.

They sparred on the beach in the late morning, when the sun shone fiercely and the granite castle in the distance blazed almost the same bright silver as Alaric’s eyes. Rather than being tired after the long journey from Kesath, he was as strong and agile as ever, not letting up in the least as they took turnsshielding and striking. She noticed, though, that he clenched his teeth harder than usual, and she wondered if it was possible for someone to run on sheer determination alone. Or perhaps it was spite.

Finally they banished the last of their weapons and collapsed onto the sand, sprawled out side by side. Talasyn gazed up into the burning heavens, the surf crashing in her ears. She was winded, but not as exhausted as she would have been before her constant trips to the Light Sever. The sun’s rays poured through her body as though embracing it.

She had changed so much here in Nenavar. Her magic had changed.

And speaking of things that were out of the ordinary, Sevraim should have popped up with some irreverent remark by now. Too many hours had passed since the Kesathese ship’s arrival. “You didn’t bring your better half, my lord?” Talasyn asked.

Alaric was red-faced from exertion, gasping like a sea creature wilting in the tropical heat, but he mustered enough energy to turn his head and glare at her. “Better?” he echoed stiffly, reddened cheek pillowed on the soft white sand.

She grinned. He blinked, as though taken aback, then his brow wrinkled in annoyance. Nowthiswas a change she could get used to—being comfortable enough to tease him.

“I have no use for my legionnaires here,” Alaric said. “Sevraim’s fleeing north with the rest of them, although my father and a few of my officers were against it.”

“They probably wanted you to have some protection,” Talasyn surmised. “Just in case I kill you after we save the world.”

The corner of his mouth twisted in a rueful half-smile. “To tell you the truth, I’m more interested in the officers whodidn’tput up a fuss.”

There was no need for him to elaborate. She’d learned enough from Urduja to know what he meant. She pictured him back at that cold obsidian fortress that was the Citadel, surrounded by people he couldn’t trust. Her gaze strayed to where his hand was mere inches from hers and she longed to reach for it.

But it wasn’t as though he could trusther, either. She didn’t want to take his hand with these thoughts in her head, as though to say she was better than his officers. She had her own hidden motives, too.

A shadow fell over them. It was Prince Elagbi, looking well rested from his nap. “I have marshalled the refreshments, Lachis’ka!” he proudly announced, indicating with a flourish the castle staff setting up a grand lunch beneath the coconut palms further up the shore. He peered down at Alaric with something like concern. “Not a moment too soon, it would seem.”

“I’m fine,” Alaric grunted.

“It’s understandable,” said Elagbi. “You were gone for a month, the humidity takes a toll on people not used to it—”

Alaric stood up. With some effort, but pointedly, he unfolded to his full height so that he towered over the Dominion prince.

Talasyn would have laughed at such a petty display of injured male pride if the sight of her father hadn’t darkened her mood. “I still can’t believe you stayed,” she scolded Elagbi as the three of them headed to join the staff. “Do you not understand the gravity of the situation—”

It was an old argument, but this time Elagbi flapped his hand at her in the same manner one would shoo away a cat wailing for scraps. “I don’t believe I shall be taking life advice from someone who thought it would be a good idea to apply heat to salamander currants, my dear.”

Alaricsnorted. Talasyn quickened her pace, leaving the horrible men behind in a flurry of sand. She glanced behindher in time to see Elagbi suppress a chuckle and lightly clap Alaric on the back. Alaric ducked his head while she shook hers in disgust. It figured that these two would start acting companionable only at her expense.

---