Page 107 of The Call of Crimson
“In my line of work,” Cillian continues, “secrets, information, and truths are worth just as much as gold.”
“Fine,” Elijah grunts. “But I’m going to need a lot more than one drink.” Wrapping an arm around my waist, he tucks me into his side and leads us to the great hall’s side door as he calls, “You coming, Cillian?”
Cillian catches up easily, even beating us to the door and pulling it open with a smirk.
I study him casually, noting the scar that bisects his brow. Somehow, it makes his striking eyes stand out even more. A light spattering of freckles dots the bridge of his nose, not quite as prominent as Breyla’s but still unusual for this region. Other scars cover his arms, a physical representation of the life he leads. They do nothing to diminish his handsomeness.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as we wander the halls.
“I was thinking the library,” Elijah replies.
I smile. “Fine by me.”
On the way, we detour through the kitchen, commandeering wine and leftover dinner. By the time we reach the library, I’m nearly feral with hunger.
I attack the roast chicken, finishing it quickly, and take a long pull from my glass of wine.
“Gods who knew listening to people talk could make me so hungry,” I say, wiping the wine from my lips.
Elijah bursts out into laughter, leaving both Cillian and me staring at him in confusion. When he finally catches his breath, he wheezes, “It’s not court that made you so hungry, doll. It’s what we did instead of breakfast this morning.”
My cheeks flush. Did he really just suggest that having sex is what made me so ravenous?
“Oh, gods you’re adorable.” Elijah grins. “I really forget how innocent you still are.”
Cillian chuckles, clearly enjoying my mortification.
“There’s blood on my hands,” I mumble, glaring at both of them. “So I’m not sure how innocent that makes me.”
“Blood, you say?” Cillian asks, his interest clearly piqued.
“Restrain yourself,” Elijah snaps, shooting Cillian a look. “It was justified, and no literal blood was spilled.”
“It’s best not to mention blood around this one,” he adds, jerking his thumb at Cillian. “If you thought I was filthy in bed, you haven’t seen this lunatic after a kill.”
“Whatever,” Cillian huffs. “Ruin my fun,”
Elijah refills his wineglass before turning serious. “Ask your questions, Cill.”
“Why is Breyla in Prudia while Rimor crumbles?” Cillian demands bluntly.
“The late King Raynor signed a marriage agreement with Prince Ayden II before his death,” Elijah explains. “The prince honored the contract and retrieved his bride, just as everything fell apart. She had no choice if she wanted to maintain peace between our two countries.”
I continue sipping wine silently, letting the two males volley information back and forth.
“So it wasn’t of her own desire, then,” Cillian muses.
“Not even a little,” I add, finishing my wine.
“And why,” Cillian continues, “would the late king’s brother accompany her?”
“There are two reasons,” Elijah answers. “One, you know damn well he’s her lover. Prince Ayden’s no fool. He knew if he didn’t bring Aurelius, the male would cause a much bigger scene trying to reach her.”
“And the second reason?”
“Because Aurelius is Ayden’s half-brother,” Elijah sighs, taking another drink of his wine. “Technically, he's an heir to Prudia’s throne, if the court acknowledges him.”
Shock flashes across Cillian’s face, but he masks it quickly.
