“Why?”
She laughed. “Because.”
He rolled her toward him so that he could give some attention to the closest nipple, then raised his head just enough to meet her gaze. “That’s nonsense. You can do what you want.”
She sighed, pulled away, and grabbed a warm robe from where it had been discarded on the floor the night before. “I’m not a god, Vidar. Being queen doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want. It means I can do mostly what I want. The other part isn’t up to me.”
“Who says?”
She stopped abruptly in the middle of tying the robe’s sash around her waist. She didn’t know how to answer that. She’d dutifully performed her “duties” for so long as she’d been queen, but come to think of it, was no longer sure how that had originated.
With a shake of her head, she said, “It’s been so long I can’t remember how the Wednesday Whine became mandatory, but my subjects expect to have a day a week to make requests or air complaints publicly.”
“I’ve attended scores of Wednesday audiences. I had no idea you call it the Wednesday Whine.”
She whirled around and gave Vidar a warning punctuated by a wagging finger. “Nobody knows I call it that. And they’d better not find out.”
Laughing, sprang from the bed, full manhood exposed. Before her brain could register what was happening, she was back in bed being kissed like there was no tomorrow.
“Are you threatening me?” he teased as he slowly untied the sash that held her robe together.
“Maybe?” She really wanted to forget all else in the world, including breakfast, and simply stay in bed with the gorgeous god. But her sense of obligation had become so ingrained after centuries of repetition that she was incapable of choosing a lover over court. She pushed him away, scrambled out of bed, and scurried toward her dressing rooms. “I’m calling Kyeya. You’d better put some pants on.”
“Why? Do you find my unclothed form unsightly?”
“Just the opposite and you know it. Kyeya would be so jealous she might be tempted to assassinate me.”
Vidar frowned a little. “Is that possible?”
“Well. I guess. I mean it hasn’t been done to me, but I’ve heard stories. Best not to flaunt.” He chuckled good-naturedly, but made a mental note to make sure Ilmr wasn’t being sabotaged and never would be. Ever. “Would you like to share dinner?” The question sounded shy, almost uncertain. A strange tone given the authority with which she normally spoke.
What he heard in her voice was fear of rejection. Specifically, being rejected by him. Vidar’s face spread into a smile of satisfaction, the likes of which only happens when someone gets that thing most desired.
“Just tell me when and where,” he said.
What struck Ilmr upon hearing that was that, except for state occasions and events that required one of the banquet halls, she dined in her quarters at the same time every day. For the first time she wondered if the boring routine of her lifestyle might make her a boring person.
“I… always have dinner here. But we don’t have to have dinner here?”
It was a question sounded by her vocal cords, but originating from her heart. She realized that she might be becoming too vulnerable to Vidar too soon, but was powerless to stop the fall.
His smile continued to be broad, captivating, and ironically warm given that he was the demigod of the northern hunt.
“Would you like to see where I live? And have dinner with me?”
Ilmr so rarely left her palace that the idea of going out was titillating. She felt goosebumps run the length of her body. “Well, yes. That could be… ah, fun.”
Vidar laughed. “I’ll prepare a fine evening for you and be back to get you.” He looked around. “Do I have your permission to enter here?”
“Alright. I’ll tell Kyeya that you have a verbal key.” She wanted to hide her excitement from Vidar because it would be unseemly for a fae queen to appear as eager as a teenage peasant with newly awakening desires. But the promise of doing something different, with someone different, away from the palace was not just juicy. It was a thrill she hadn’t known she was neglecting. She turned back just before she passed out of sight beyond the bed chamber doors. “And we can talk about how to elevate my standing? Among queens?”
His responding wide grin opened a hole in her heart and filled it with a handful of hope and a dash of elation. The idea that he knew something she didn’t wasn’t just exciting. It was sexy.
“If you wish,” he said.
Ilmr managed to get through a day of complaints about everything from charges of commercial fraud to land disputes. If one of her subjects found her ruling unacceptable, she always answered the same way.
“You are welcome to appeal to the magistrate’s higher court. If she reviews your case and finds that it has merit, perhaps you’ll be heard at some point.”