Page 94 of Of Rime and Ruin
Panic twists my chest into a tight knot. I can’t remember the last time I gave a speech. What do I even say? Today’s hunt was a greater success than I imagined, but not because of anything I did.
I clear my throat. “Our kingdom will eat well, thanks to your skill and bravery.”
I spot Nahla on the opposite side of the fire, bundled in furs and holding a steaming mug. She catches my eye, her gaze reflecting the golden dance of the flames. Air sticks in my lungs, and for a second, I forget to breathe.She’s incredible.
Beautiful. Witty. Powerful. A hero.
This victory belongs to her. Without Nahla’s song, we’d be returning empty-handed, I have no doubt in my mind. My plan would have fallen apart.
Cyrene presses a flask into my hand, and I lift it.
“And to Nahlani Mahelona, Princess of the Brine,” I say. “We are forever in your debt.”
Several eyes flick in her direction, appreciative and curious. As she blushes deeply and dips her head, tucking her cheeks into her cloak, I regret my remark.
No one looks at her like that. Not on my watch.
“To a successful hunt!” I finish through clenched teeth.
The hunters cheer and we drink our liquor. The flask is cold against my lips, but the liquid burns with a welcome heat. I swallow, pulling it into my gullet, and step toward Nahla.
“An excellent speech, Sire,” Cyrene says, sidling next to me and blocking my path. “You did well.”
I grunt. “Thank you.
“We could use a morale booster more often, it seems. Thanks for being here.”
“It’s nothing I’ve done.” I pull more rum from my flask, watching Nahla over the rim. The blush is spreading. Orson approaches her, teetering on drunken legs. “If you’ll excuse me.”
I step around Cyrene and reach Nahla in time to intercept her. Wordlessly, I settle in next to her, placing my body between her and the approaching male. Orson stops in his tracks, snow skidding beneath his feet.Good.
“Don’t tell me you practiced that speech,” Nahla chides. “It was awful.”
Warmth spreads through me at her voice, and I can’t help but grin. “I’ll let you write it next time.”
“Thanks,” she deadpans. Her hand snakes out of her bundle of furs, and she snatches the flask. “This for me?”
Tilting her head, she guzzles the liquor. Her soft neck bobs with each swallow. Eager.
“Easy now,” I caution, trying not to think of what else of mine she might swallow.
She shoots me a look, takes one more swig, and returns the near-empty flask.
I stretch out my legs and settle in. This is nice. Me and her, next to a blazing fire. The sun has dipped beneath the horizon, and the lights of the aethersky emerge, rippling with radiant color among the stars. It’d be fucking romantic, if not for the company of the hunters.
I nudge her with my knee, and she sways playfully. “You did well today, Sunfish,” I say. My chest swells with pride. She did more than well—she was fucking fantastic.
“You know, at home, we hunt sunfish.” Her eyes sparkle as she nudges me back.
“And do you consider that cannibalism?”
“It’s too bad you were born royal.” Her mouth quirks as she flicks her gaze over my sprawling form. “You could’ve made a career out of comedy.”
I laugh—a sudden, loud burst of sound. She jumps, and the low murmur of conversation around us cuts off. All eyes swivel to me. But I can’t help it. I can’t stop the laughter rolling frommy mouth. A pinch forms in my side, and I grasp it, bending forward. My thoughts swim through a booze-drenched haze, and she just said the funniest damn thing I’ve heard in my life.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” I gasp. Saltwater pricks in my eyes, stinging.
She watches me with an incredulous look. Smiling. Goddess, that smile. Is there anything more perfect?
