Page 110 of Sweetling
Allarion took their bags off Bellarand’s back.
Thank you for bearing us so swiftly, my friend.
Depositing the bags just inside the kitchen door, Allarion touched a hand to the wall of the house. Casting his senses wide, Allarion searched for…something.
But the house had nothing of note to report. A few things had fallen over in the quake, but the foundations held firm, and the house hardly cared about the shaking, too excited that they were returned.
When Bellarand had caught his breath and Molly seemed less shaken, Allarion drew her into the kitchen. Already, the house had a kettle steaming for tea, and he pulled out the small sack of provisions he’d acquired for her until a fresh shipment of food could be delivered. Assured she was safe and provided for, Allarion gathered her hands in his.
“I must check the wards and borders. Earthquakes are rare, but they are powerful.”
Molly nodded. “Of course. I’ll start making myself some dinner—and tell the house all my gossip.”
The shutters of the kitchen window flapped excitedly.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allarion didn’t like to see the tightness of her expression and the worry that pulled it taut. Yet, the same concerns lurked in his own chest. Best then to ensure nothing was wrong. Then…
“I will check the forest and perimeter. Then…” Bringing her hands to his mouth, he kissed each knuckle. “May I come to you tonight?”
The worry bled from her face as her brows arched in surprise. Allarion watched, enchanted, as her pupils blew wide.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said, her voice a breathy siren’s song.
Groaning, Allarion couldn’t resist taking a kiss. It had to last him one more interminable afternoon.
25
Molly kept herself busy throughout the intervening afternoon, putting away provisions they’d brought with them, including the purchases they’d made at the dressmaker’s the morning of the council meeting. Hanging up her new gowns in the armoire came with an odd feeling.
She stepped back to look at her rather eclectic collection of clothing now stored in the armoire. Different pieces hung alongside one another, like her best serving dress and the embroidered one she’d made and a sumptuous creamy white gown from the dressmaker’s. She enjoyed all the colors and textures and fabrics, and as she looked, Molly realized that, although different, each piece belonged in the armoire. Each gown and bodice and trou had its place and use.
They represented all the facets of her growing life, all the new flavors and dynamics.
Yes, she liked that very much.
Although, there was one piece she hadn’t yet tried on. A special piece she’d whispered to the dressmaker about, so that even sensitive fae ears couldn’t hear. The lilac silk and lace confection she laid carefully on the bed, pulse fluttering to think of finally wearing it for him. She loved all the little buttons down the back and how the hue nearly matched his fae coloring—and soon, he’d get to appreciate it, too.
She breezed through making her dinner, the house and Bellarand keeping her company. The house was a bit too enthusiastic to help cook, sending every pot to boiling too quickly and curdling the sauces, but Molly didn’t mind so much.
Bellarand claimed to be weary from the trip and running with such heavy loads, although Molly thought he looked fine. Still, she spoiled him with carrot ends and turnip slices, grateful for the company.
The earthquake had rattled them worse than the dirt below, and Molly didn’t want to be by herself. She’d heard of the phenomenon, of course, but earthquakes were something that happened in Pyrros, especially when its great fire mountain, the Lupatian Volcano, belched fire. Could the volcano have erupted and caused such a massive stir that they felt it even so far north?
Bellarand thought it possible, and it was the only thing they could think of that made any sense. Even so, they spent dinner debating increasingly more ridiculous reasons for the earthquake—her favorite being his thought that all the worms had come down with severe flatulence.
By the time dusk settled over the tree line, Molly made her excuses and hurried up to her bedchamber. Breathing gone rapid with a warm, flushed excitement, she made quick work of throwing off her day clothes to wiggle into the layers of frothy silk.
It took her longer than she cared to admit to figure out all the buttons and layers, but by the time the full darkness of night settled around the house, all the candles and lamps in the room flickered with soft light and she stood before the floor-length mirror admiring her work.
A thin negligee, airy as gossamer and cinched at her waist, fell in dramatic drapes to the floor. It just barely hid a satiny set of stays that lifted her tits to perfection and nipped her waist nicely. Garters attached the silk and lace stockings to the bottom hem, and Molly wiggled her toes just for the joy of feeling the softness against her skin.
She might never have considered such garments before, not with her spots and pockmarks peeking out between the stockings and stays or beneath the semi-transparent fabric. Yet, twirling in the mirror, she couldn’t help the smile that overcame her. She looked and felt like a cloud, swirling with beauty and elegance. Perfect for seducing a certain fae.
Yes, she liked this part of her new life, very much.
She was grateful not to have been rushed off to bed, even after having discovered what a talented tongue Allarion had, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t achingly ready to finally make love to him.
Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of three rapping knocks on her door. It swung open, revealing Allarion looming at her threshold. Those purple eyes caught the soft light of the candles, fixing on her silken form.
