Page 34 of Throne of Dreams
She crawled up the stone stairway, choking, swallowing down gulps of warm summer air. Using the steps for leverage, she staggered to her feet, swaying slightly. Her head throbbed, pulsed at her temples. Even her skin was terribly dry, cracked as though it had been leached of all moisture despite the fact that she was soaking wet. Drenched, with bits of shell and seaweed clinging to her clothing, she wrapped her arms around the nearest pillar, bracing herself for support.
She inhaled. Exhaled. Enjoyed the sweet rush of warm air as it filled her, cleansed her.
And then Lir appeared.
ChapterEleven
“Hey.” Maeve’s chest heaved again, and when she spoke, it was like sandpaper had been forced down her mouth. She cleared her throat and tried again, offering a weary smile. “Did you miss me?”
But Lir said nothing.
His silver eyes cut through her, a scowl marred his brow, and she was immediately reminded of the first time they met. He clamped one hand down upon her shoulder, and with no warning, theyfadedinto her bedroom.
Deirdre was already there, waiting, spreading a bundle of clean clothing on the bed.
“Cleanse her at once.” Lir’s voice was low and menacing. He wouldn’t even look at her. “She reeks of the sea.”
Deirdre bustled past her with competent efficiency, a robe and towel thrown over one shoulder, and displeasure etched into the age lines of her usually warm and welcoming face.
Maeve whirled around to face Lir. “Talk to me.”
Nothing.
Just like before…before she thought they were friends.
“No. Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare give me the silent treatment again.” She marched right up to him and stabbed her finger into his chest. He didn’t budge. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even acknowledge her. “You’re better than that. I know it.”
Deirdre exited the bathroom in a swirl of fragrant steam with her arms crossed. She glanced at Lir, who nodded once and left, shutting the door soundly behind him.
Maeve’s chest hurt. There was an ache there, an unfamiliar sensation she didn’t recognize. A heavy weight settled around her and nothing she did—no matter how many times she rubbed the sore spot, or how many times she tried to take a breath—eased the increasing pain. Her nose tingled with that burning sensation she hated so much, the one that came with the promise of tears. Unbidden, they slid down her cheeks in silent ribbons. She’d never seen Lir so angry, so mad…at her.
“What did I do wrong?” She swiped at her face, scrubbing away the fallen tears with the back of her hand.
“You had the entire city in an uproar looking for you, dear heart.” Deirdre neatly smoothed away the imaginary wrinkles on Maeve’s bed. “You jumped off a ledge, spread your wings, and just flew out to sea.”
“I was with Aran,” Maeve countered, then spread her arms wide, exasperated. “Everyoneknew that.”
“You were with Aran, yes,” Deirdre agreed. “Until you weren’t. There was no trace of you anywhere, love. I’ve never seen the High King or High Princess so fearful in all my years.” She sighed, pressing one hand to her heart. “The High King sent Lir to theAmshirin search of you, only to find out you weren’t there. Merrick lost your scent and had no way to track you.”
She bustled around the bed, helping Maeve peel her soaked clothing from her skin.
“Lir didn’t have to be such a jerk about it,” she muttered.
“He was worried, more so than I think he’d care to admit.” Deirdre hefted the jeweled top over Maeve’s head in one swift tug. “If there’s one thing the commander hates more than anything, it’s a mistake. And I believe he’s more upset with himself than he is with you.”
Maeve snorted in disbelief. “It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
“Of course not, dear heart.” Deirdre’s voice was soothing.
“He didn’t even ask what happened,” Maeve murmured. “Or where I’d been. Or anything.”
“Try not to take it to heart. He hasn’t always been the best with words.” She patted her on the cheek. “Go on and clean up.” Deirdre nodded to the shower, laid a turquoise robe upon the bed, and left Maeve alone without another word.
Maeve discarded what was left of her clothing, stepped into the shower, and tried not to think about the way Lir had looked at her with such utter disappointment. Sure, she probably shouldn’t have asked Aran to take her to theAmshir. But she’d been so desperate to get away. She’d been so angry at Tiernan, so hurt by his words…that she hadn’t cared about anyone else in that moment. She’d just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
In retrospect, she probably should have allowed Aran to escort her home. At least then she wouldn’t have been alone when the merrows deceived her. Though if Aran had been with her, they may not have bothered her at all.
If she hadn’t been taken to Ispomora, she never would’ve learned of Garvan’s wrongdoings against the merrows. Nor would she have learned some of the truth behind her Aurastone. She’d made progress. She’d learned new information relevant to her cause, and she would hold Garvan responsible for his crimes against the merrows, and anyone else he wronged within the Autumn Court.
