Page 57 of Faeling
“Of course,” agreed Bryn, her voice shaking with laughter.
Peals of giggling followed them further into the citadel.
Vallek’s boots pounded the steps up to his quarters. The two guards outside the doors jumped to attention at the sight of him—and then their eyes went wide in horror to see the conspicuous bundle over his shoulder.
“My king…” one choked out.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Vallek said without stopping.
Throwing open the door, he proceeded inside as the guards hurried to close it behind him.
Vallek didn’t stop until he stood in the center of the hall. Only then did he finally lower her from his shoulder.
She fell back a few steps, straightening out her cloak and cowl. She also made a show of rubbing at her sore middle. By the time she looked up at him, wearing her own face, she’d rediscovered her scowl.
Even that was a welcome sight to him after days apart.
Taking her by the shoulders, he hauled her close. “Neverdo that again,” he insisted. “You could have been injured!”
“There’d be no need to if I wasn’t confined,” she grumbled.
“It’s for your safety. All of it, everything I do, it’s to keep you safe.” That was the truth of it, if not the whole. Just like a greedy dragon, he’d every intention of hoarding his sharp-tongued mate.
The dubious arch of her brow told him exactly what she thought of his sentiment.
His hands slid up the curves of her shoulders to her neck, and he couldn’t help running his thumbs over the silk of her cheeks. Gods, she was so soft. A joy to touch. In the silence that befell them, Vallek indulged in her scent and feel.
For the first time in days, his beast settled. The wily thing wouldn’t truly be content until she was bedded and bonded to him, but for now, this was enough.
Drawing deep of her scent, Vallek let his head fall to hers. With their difference in height, it wasn’t overly comfortable on his tired back, but that didn’t matter. He needed the connection, and for now, she seemed—if not amenable then at least not actively pushing him away.
“I must apologize,skala. What we did that night—I regret nothing except that it was done with anger, and that I offended you. That wasn’t my intention.”
Her face sobered, those violet eyes sharpening. “It wasn’t very flattering to be touched like that right after telling me you intend to take an orcess to wife.”
Vallek groaned. “I know. I regret that, too.” Straightening, he held one of her hands to his chest, over his heart so she could feel it beating. “I didn’t mean it, not in truth.”
Dark brows rising, she asked, “You won’t take a wife?”
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she held her breath inanticipation of his answer.
“No. Not when I already have a beautiful mate.”
Although apparently unmoved by his flattery, she did nod. “All right. What does this mean, then?”
“It means,” he sighed, “that we have much to discuss.” Although he’d take no pleasure in it, he had to tell her at least some of the news from Toksfinge. If only to try figuring out if she could be the halfling Amaranthe searched for. No matter the answer, he needed to know.
Leaning down once more to nuzzle her fragrant hair, Vallek said softly, “Let me wash the journey off me, and then we’ll talk.”
When Vallek returned from the bath a little while later, washed, steaming, and clad in a comfortable pair of loose linen breeches, the late-afternoon sun slanted into the rooms in heavy beams of yellow light. The summer day was warm, but not unbearably so, and he noticed that several windows had been opened to catch the wayward breeze.
Padding into the den, he found Ravenna, also changed from her adventure. He stopped to take in the sight of her. Out of her drab human dress, she wore something between a robe and a gown, all draping layers. The pale pink fabric was cinched at her waist by a belt studded with semiprecious gems, the flowing material hinting at her curves and the long lengths of her legs. Sleeveless, the gown left her supple lilac arms bare, and she’d unbound her long hair from its plait, letting it fall down her back in heavy waves.
He purred before he even knew it. The vision she made was one of a queen at rest.
Hilde had obviously been visiting while he was away. She’d apenchant for garments like this and had been slowly bending the fashion of the Balmirran court to her will. Although Eydis was currently the highest ranking orcess at court, she’d little interest in fashions—much to Hilde’s dismay—so it was Lady Silvia, who clung to power of any kind, setting the court’s tastes. If he wasn’t mistaken, Hilde might have finally found her muse.
His beast raised its jealous head. Ravenna was perhapstooalluring for anyone else to see her like this. The softness and easy lines spoke to a more domestic, private garment. He could allow that. He liked her in it very much.
