Page 155 of The Call of Crimson
“I’m a bit fuzzy on the details. What is this conflict, General?”
“Have you truly not figured it out yet?”
I shake my head, though the question feels rhetorical.
“It’s the Fae. They toy with us like a cat playing with a mouse before it devours it. Full-blown war is inevitable, and what you witnessed tonight is merely a taste of the devastation to come.”
I’m not surprised by his answer. “But why? What conflict do either of our kingdoms have with the Fae?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
OPHELIA
“My Lord, there is someone here to see you,” Lyla says from the doorway of the royal family’s private dining room.
This room was the last place that offered even a sliver of peace, outside of Elijah’s chambers. And since we’re more inclined to partake inotheractivities there, we’ve taken to eating alone in here.
Elijah and I have been run ragged preparing for the influx. A week after Jade sent the survivors to Ciyoria, we received a missive from Pelanor reporting attacks nearly identical to the ones that decimated Caedel. While Pelanor hasn’t been formally evacuated, its residents are arriving in droves. The late King Raynor’s and Lord Aurelius’ parents were among them. Not long after, Nameah’s family arrived, bearing grim news that every farmland between here and the towns south of Pelanor has been burned. All the livestock and crops we rely on for winter... gone.
“Who is it, Lyla?” Elijah asks, smiling. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, though. Deep purple circles rim the brown of his irises.
I squeeze his hand in a sign of silent reassurance.
“He told me he was Rimor’s newly appointed guard dog,” Lyla says, her tone lifting at the end, like it’s a question rather than a statement. “Though he used several vulgar words that I won’t repeat.”
At her words, Elijah tenses. His fork hovers halfway to his mouth, frozen.
“That sounds about right,” Elijah mutters, dropping the forgotten food onto his plate. “TellCillianwe will see him in here. Thank you, Lyla.”
“Of course, My Lord.” Lyla curtsies before backing out of the room.
“What do you think he wants?” I ask as the door clicks shut.
“It can’t be anything good,” Elijah sighs.
With a soft hand on his cheek, I turn his face to mine, looking deep into the brown of his irises. A soft afternoon light catches them, illuminating the amber bursts that surround his pupil. My thumb strokes his skin softly, and he leans into the touch, savoring the comfort I wish I could wrap him in.
“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it,” I whisper, leaning my forehead to rest against his. “The weight on your shoulders is immense, and I wish I could bear it for you.”
“You make the load feel like a warm blanket rather than the crushing boulder it is, Ophelia.” His lips ghost against mine in the slightest of kisses. “You make everything a little easier to bear.”
Though I’m desperate for more of his touch, more of these quiet moments with him, the spell is broken by the crash of the heavy wooden door slamming against the stone wall.
“What a touching moment,” Cillian drawls, the lilt in his voice uncharacteristically unmasked.
“It was,” Elijah says, drawing back. “Until you graced us with your presence.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. I don’t mind waiting.” A smirk curls the corner of Cillian’s lips. “Or watching.”
Elijah shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Sometimes I wonder what females see in you.”
“I don’t,” Cillian replies flatly. “I have a massive cock and I use it to make them scream. Loudly. And Frequently.”
My eyes flare wide at his vulgar description, the words sparking an image in my mind that I definitely don’t need.
“Gods, I forgot how blunt you could be,” Elijah says, a hint of reluctant humor slipping through his irritation.
