Page 32 of Boundless
She settled onto his chest with a sigh, her arm draping over his middle and one leg going over his thigh.
"You are a marvel, husband," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his pectoral with another contented sigh. "And so full of surprises."
He smiled, sated and content in a way he only managed with Daega.
"I'm l-learning from you, dear wife," he teased, trailing his fingers over her arm. He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss between her horns. "I love you. So much, D-Daega."
She pulled away to look him in the face, smiling softly. How had he ever found her frightening? She was so beautiful. "I love you too, Len. So much."
HE WAS UNSPEAKABLYnervous at the council meeting the next morning.
Len had drafted a proposal and was presenting it that day for a vote. He wanted to start a program that would bring Draka to elvish schools, to be taught as a supplement to Common and the elvish native tongue, Levess. He knew none of them would like it, but he justknewthat it would be good for the merger. He wanted everyone to see the side of the Istarii Drakan that he was seeing, to give them the tools to love them and accept them. The simplest route, he’d told Daega, was to introduce them to their language and culture at a young age. They were going to propose a sister program to Gayeh and Kevothaen once they made it to the camps—though Len knew that would be a much easier sell than it would be for the elvish council.
He stood once the meeting’s beginning was officially called, clearing his throat. “Y-your attention, p-please,” he began, his eyes drawn to his father’s face like a moth to a flame. Predictably, the king was frowning. “But I and m-my lady-wife have a proposal for you.”
“You have the floor,” head councilman Gildwallaen said, inclining his head.
“I c-come to you today to ask that y-you take a step towards a brighter future th-that our ancestors could not even d-dream of,” Len began, trying to wipe his sweaty palms on the seat of his pants surreptitiously. “We have es-established a peace treaty with the Istarii D-Drakan and made them our friends. But I believe there’s m-more to do to make this b-bond strong.” He licked his lips, desperate for moisture. He darted a look over at Daega, his heart swelling to see her watching him with pride, her arms crossed over her chest so her right hand gripped her bicep—I am proud of you, it meant.
“T-to that end, I want to start a cultural exch-change program. We bring Draka c-courses and history to our schools, and the Istariin people begin teaching Levess and elvish history.”
He ceded the floor, re-taking his seat and trembling like a leaf. Daega apparently ignored him, but he saw her hand flex, squeezing her arm tighter, and the tip of her tail flicked against his thigh. Every face around the room looked confused or furious—all but one, that is.
Maleom beamed at him, getting to his feet with an audible crack. “I, for one, think the prince’s plan is a brilliant one,” the older elf said, his hands concealed in the wide sleeves of his robe. “All of our information about the Istarii Drakan thus far has been collected under dubious conditions. What a wonderful opportunity it would be to be able to finally learn directly from the source!”
“For what it’s worth,” Daega added, keeping her seat, “I’ve had a chance to look over some of the literature in the royal library concerning my people, and it’s woefully lacking, and outright incorrect in many ways.”
Haedelon’s frown deepened, his eyes roving over to Len, filled with fury; he likely had asked to be informed if Daega went to the library, but Len had been the one to get the books—many months ago, now, in preparation for his marriage, and had simply neglected to return them. Len did his best to look surprised and concerned over this revelation.
“Thank you for your valuable insight in this matter, Princess Daega,” Maleom said. “Though I would like to see proposed lesson plans and a budgetary report before we put it to a vote, my prince.”
Len nodded, shuffling through the leaves of parchment he’d brought with that contained that exact information. “I-I didn’t have a chance yet t-to make c-copies, but this is my full proposal, C-Counselor.”
Maleom nodded, leaning over Councilman Tyras to reach the papers Len slid towards him.
“We will adjourn to make the copies and read over the report, I think,” Head Councilman Gildwallaen said, ringing the small silver bell they used to begin and end meetings, and to call the assembly to order.
Len nodded, thanking the Council and trying to ignore how his head swam. It had gone better than he’d thought it would, honestly.
Daega nodded as the assembled elves cleared out, pinching the bridge of her nose—I wish to kiss you right now. “Are we done with the meeting, then?”
He frowned. “Yes. Were you not p-paying attention yet again?” he snapped, tapping under his ear to let her know he didn’t mean a word of it.
Daega’s only answer was to stand and storm out, leaving Len alone in the room with Haedelon. He had a flare of nerves, worrying that that hadn’t been for show, but Daega knew what they were up to, and he knew she loved him; he’d just have to keep calm and carry on until he could check in with her.
“What is the meaning of this?” Haedelon hissed once they were alone.
“Exactly as Counselor Maleom said, F-Father,” Len responded, squaring his shoulders. “We don’t kn-know very much about them that c-can be guaranteed t-to be true. We do not have to in turn p-provide honest information ab-bout ourselves. But I th-thought this might prove f-fruitful.”
The king studied his face, brow wrinkled, before abruptly standing. “Very well, Lenlethael. I see the value of it—ifit works. Was this the princess’s idea?”
Len shook his head. “No. I-in fact, it was a bit of a r-row getting her to entertain th-the idea.”
Haedelon nodded, making to leave. As he passed Len, he clapped his shoulder. “Good work,” he told him before slipping out of the door.
Alone now, Len allowed his heart to slowly break in silence.
CHAPTER TWELVE
