Page 19 of The Mountain King
He sounded like his father…
“I see why my father finds you amusing.”
… which was definitely a bad thing. Time for another discussion with Lord Maddugh, anyway.
Amnan’s eyes narrowed speculatively and his hand rose. He took a small step forward as Kailigh stared at him, nonplussed.
“If my father is not to your liking—”
She raised a hand, a little creeped out. “I think that’s enough of that.”
Amnan took the hand, rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, and reeled her in with an effortless strength. “My father is not the only eligible male of rank, and he shouldn’t always get first choice of the tastiest morsels. It spoils him to have no competition.”
Was he really comparing her to meat? Really? “You’re Maddugh’s son. In my mind, I equate you with my daughter.”
He paused, brow raised. “I am not your daughter. In fact, I’m older than you. Am I not as appealing as Maddugh?”
Kailigh, amused now that she realized this was a boy’s pissing contest with his Da, patted his cheek. “You’ll have your time, son. But thank you for the compliment.”
He sighed, releasing her, then shrugged. “Might have been interesting.”
Were all the men here mad?
* * *
Kailigh persuadeda member of Maddugh’s household to direct her to where the Dwyrkin Lord was this time of day. As they walked the halls, Kailigh observed evidence of his dual nature in carved wood trims depicting dragons in various poses. The paintings on the walls were mostly forest scenes as well, some whimsical with dragonlings playing under sunlight. The house was larger than it appeared on the outside, and they passed any number of people. She wondered how many Maddugh housed in his personal residence—and why. She didn’t know much about the Dwyrkin, but the custom of keeping such a large staff seemed feudal. And a waste of personal resources, unless he was just that wealthy.
Her escort abandoned her at a door on the second floor. Evidently, while the first floor was open concept and mostly taken up by the large living/receiving hall, the second floor was for personal and guest rooms.
“Enter.”
She turned the smooth silver handle, entering an office. And stopped, staring at the warrior who executed strike after strike, body flowing with the grace of water. She’d seen the ocean once, as a girl. The waves crashing against the shore with powerful, undulating grace.
His eyes met hers for one brief, searing moment, proving he was aware of her regard, but he flowed into the next strike. The thinnest sheen coated golden brown skin, though his face was smooth. Kailigh watched. Inhale, exhale. Mesmerized, having never seen a male so… alive. Strength, grace, and beauty combined with the danger and discipline of a man who willingly subjected himself to master a skill as grueling and mundane as hand to hand combat. This was a man who wouldn’t cheat on a wife, abandon her alone with three small daughters.
At that thought, Kailigh shook herself from her reverie. Stupid. Physical attractiveness didn’t make a man. Actions made a man, and she’d lived enough years in this town to know Lord Maddugh took his responsibility to his people seriously, defending their land and wealth ruthlessly.
“A moment,” Maddugh said, his voice quiet after he’d stilled. Completing his exercise, he crossed the room to another door and disappeared inside.
Kailigh stepped further into the room, curious. The town hall had a place like this where the mayor set up shop to handle town business. A wide, dark desk clear except for a few paper books set in a corner. No chairs in front—as if the owner of the desk wanted to discourage company. Kailigh suppressed a smile. There was some seating on the opposite side of the room, next to a small bookcase filled with more books. She eyed it a moment before turning her attention to the man she’d come to see, emerging from the room with a shirt on. Pity.
“How may I serve?” he asked, gesturing to the seating area.
“What kind of martial arts were you doing?” Kailigh asked, unmoving.
“From my homeland.” He smiled at her. “Would you like to learn?”
Her brow rose. “If I learned your tricks, I could use them against you.”
The quality of his smile altered. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the expression, but for a moment she froze, abdomen tense with instinctive response.
“I would like it if you made the attempt. Will you sit?”
His words sounded like an invitation, and not a threat. So, he was a man who liked a bit of rough play, huh? She moved to the seat, obeying the thinly veiled command.
“Your son might like it as well,” she said without thinking.
Maddugh froze. “Excuse me?”
