Page 20 of Boundless
Len snorted a laugh. "They don't c-care about things like birth st-status, from what I've gathered so far. But are you serious?"
Sevren shrugged, trying just a little too hard to look nonchalant. "I think I am, yes. I have to admit, it's a huge change, going from thinking of them as monsters and heathens to allies. But meeting them and talking to them, it's hard not to be charmed. As you know all too well," he added with a wink.
Len tossed a pillow at Sevren's face, both men chuckling. "Shut it, Sev." He thought for a moment, then offered, "All thr-three are of age, th-though Vrinn may be just a bit young despite that. Sercha is quite kind a-and intelligent, so she'll not be interested in you—" Len managed to duck in time to avoid the cushion Sevren launched at him for that, "But I c-could see you and Tesse getting along."
"How old are they? How old isDaega?" Len started; he hadn't thought to ask that.
"I'm twenty and eight," his wife answered breezily, rejoining them in a stunning gold and burgundy silk gown that had Len's mouth watering. "Tesse is twenty and six. Sercha twenty and four, and Vrinn just ten and nine." She pinned them both with an amused stare. "Tesse was just telling me earlier during our spar that she fancied an elf consort. You're in luck."
Sevren flushed, laughing in discomfort. "My thanks, Princess."
Daega made a sound of disgust at the use of her title. "You fuck off with that 'Princess' shite. In private I'm Daega or I'm twisting your cock off."
Sev blinked in surprise, then threw his head back and laughed uproariously. "Sweet Delenaa, I guess I better remember that then, eh?"
Len leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "You look stunning," he murmured.
She preened. "Aren't you sweet, husband?" A serious look stole over her starkly beautiful features. "But thatdoesremind me. I think at dinner tonight you need to be unkind to me in front of your father. We have to convince him he's gotten through to you since this morning, aye?"
Len frowned. "B-but your family will be there, t-too. How will we g-get them i-in on it?"
She sighed, shrugging. "They already know about it in general, so we'll just have to hope they can put on a convincing show of it. Or you could make it subtle, so only His Grace would notice."
Len's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. He thought he might know what he could do. "I don't want to," he said quietly, "What if I r-really hurt you, Dae?"
"It's not real, Len. I know it as well as you."
"Maybe come up with a signal," Sevren suggested softly. "Something that looks innocuous but means something kind."
Daega smiled. "Oh, so thereissome meat between his ears," she teased. "I rather like that." She considered for a moment. "Oh! How about this: if I touch my finger to the middle of my bottom lip that means...'I know you don't mean it'."
Len nodded, brightening. "And...if I t-tap just below my ear here that means...'I-I care for you'." He hesitated, then added, "And I'm s-sorry for what I've said."
Sevren leaned forward, his hands on his knees. "Afraid time's up, newlyweds. His Grace is expecting you now."
Daega stood with a sigh and reached back for Len's hand to haul him up, too. "Are you steady on your feet, dearest?" she asked, her touch lingering.
He nodded, titling his chin up in a silent request for one last kiss. Daega obliged with a smile, and then they ripped apart from each other and made their way through the castle to the dining room.
It was smaller than the hall they'd had their wedding feast in, but it was still large enough to house four long tables comfortably, though only two were in use. Anger flashed when he realized that the Istarii Drakan had been seated at their own table, separate from the king and the other elves. Was his fathertryingto be hostile toward their new allies? Did he not care for the treaty? But if that was the case, then why agree to it in the first place?
"Where should I sit, Len?" Dae asked him quietly as they stepped through the double doors.
"As my w-wife, your place is by my side. Though I d-don't like this one bit."
She remained silent, staying close as he made his way to the two seats being held for them at the king's elbow.
The look his father gave him as they took their seats was painfully sour, his eyes trailing over Daega's gown with distaste.
"So good of you to finally join us," his father drawled, spearing him with a stern look.
"M-my apologies, yo-your grace," he responded, face heating. "I-I was u-unwell and n-needed—"
"Yes, it's alwayssomethingwith you," Haedelon sighed, turning to the council member on his other side to continue a conversation Len's arrival had apparently interrupted. He felt Daega stiffen on his right side, but he didn't look over, knowing that his father rarely missed anything Len did in his presence to disappoint him. Sevren stood quietly behind his chair, ready to help Len with his food and drink should he need it. Though his father's comments had curdled his stomach and stolen much of his appetite. Daega ate heartily beside him, chatting animatedly with the stuffy elves gathered closest to her, and when Len spotted his father eyeing her with distaste he knew what he should do.
"M-must you b-be s-soloud," Len hissed, dropping his fork and turning to shoot her a look. He brought his hand up to rest against his face as if he was bored, or especially catty, but made sure he tapped just under his ear on that side. "It w-would be best if you acted your station, P-princess," he added, keeping his voice low but loud enough to be heard over the din.
Daega froze, turning to look at him. She brought her hand to her face, fingers slightly splayed so that the middle one touched the middle of her bottom lip. It took all Len's willpower to suppress the smile that wanted to bloom. "I'm sorry, my prince," she said, managing to look and sound embarrassed. "I did not realize—"
