Page 12 of Throne of Dreams
“Good morning, Lir.”
His eyes were kind, far gentler than she’d once assumed of his nature. No longer was he the silent, stoic brute.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“You know you can just call me Maeve.” She started down the hall and he fell in step behind her. “I feel like we’re past the formalities now.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Maeve gave her head a light shake. Typical. Lir was fiercely loyal, and he was also a staunch rule-follower. He never called her Maeve. It was either “Your Highness” or “little bird,” depending on his mood.
They walked around the corner, and the carved doors of the library came into view. She’d been meaning to put aside some time to read, to distract herself from everything. She should be studying Old Laic and the wars from before to see if there was any mention of the ways to kill an Archfae. Of course, she could just ask Casimir…if she could find him. He’d been the one to kill her mother, the High Queen of Autumn. The mere thought of it caused her gut to seize and she clenched her jaw. Her fingers grazed the inlaid pearl handle to the library. There were other things she wanted to learn about too, like her mother and father, who were lost to her. She didn’t even hold a single memory.
“I can hear your stomach growling.” Lir’s hand fell upon her shoulder and gently steered her away from the past. “Keep walking.”
“Fine.” She grumbled her displeasure but there was no real anger behind it.
After she ate, she was going straight to the library to read. If she got there soon enough, Tiernan wouldn’t be able to drag her to the beach for training, at least not right away. It would be easy enough to avoid him for a few hours, especially after what happened yesterday afternoon on the beach. She often got the sense he was avoiding her as well. He never joined them for breakfast anymore, probably because of her.
But when she walked out onto the terracotta balcony where she and the others met for breakfast every morning, there he was—only him, looking as decadent as ever. He wore a shirt of the color of the Lismore Marin, the collar stuck up, and the top two buttons undone. His pants were gray, like smoke, and his sword was at his hip. He wore a gold ring on his pinky finger and in the sun-shaped setting was a stone that reflected the colors of his eyes. Deep amethyst. Cobalt blue. Twilight. Around his neck, however, was the necklace she’d created yesterday. The one resembling the crest of the Summer Court.
He’d kept it.
She glanced around the patio area. Ceridwen was almost always seated at the table with Brynn. Sometimes Merrick would join them. But today, no one else was there.
Tiernan stood up from his seat upon her arrival and gestured to the empty chair beside him. Awkward friction sparked between them, leaving Maeve uncomfortable in her own skin. She slid onto the seat next to him and rubbed her hands over her leather leggings. The cropped top of beaded sunbursts she wore suddenly seemed a little too snug.
His gaze flicked to the door, and Lir nodded once, then left.
Maeve kept her hands folded in her lap and squeezed them together. It was never just the two of them together unless they were training. She wished, more than anything, that Ceridwen was there to douse her in a wash of deep breaths and serenity.
“Coffee?” Tiernan asked.
“Please.”
He doctored it just the way she liked, with two cubes of sugar and no cream.
“Hungry?”
“Famished.” Even if she lied just to spite him, he would hear her stomach’s betrayal.
One snap of his fingers and a full, albeit smaller than usual, spread of food appeared before her. Warm biscuits with raspberry jam. Crispy bacon. This wonderful mix of potatoes, onions, cheese, and gravy. All of her favorites, she noted with rising suspicion.
He cleared his throat and casually stirred the cup of coffee in front of him. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”
Ah. So, this was an apology breakfast.
“Oh?” Maeve spread some of the sweetened jam onto a biscuit. “Which part?”
Tiernan brought his cup to his lips and eyed her over the rim. “The part where I left you on the beach.”
“Mm.” She didn’t bother to look at him as she coated another layer of jam onto her biscuit. “I thought maybe you intended to apologize for practically bringing me to orgasm in the sky in front of everyone.”
He choked on his coffee, started coughing, and slammed his fist into his chest. Maeve dropped her head and let her curtain of curls hide the immense satisfaction of his embarrassment.
But the High King always recovered quickly. The corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin and his gaze swept over her, reflecting raw male hunger. And it had nothing to do with the food on the table in front of them. “Afraid not,astora. I’ll never apologize for bringing you pleasure.”
Astora. Pulse of my heart.
