Page 6 of Boundless
Len paused, looking at her from under his lashes as he stripped off sock garters. “Um. No, I-I’m quite alright. But thank you.”
“My pleasure, husband. I’m here to help if you need me.”
They shared a smile, warm and lingering.
CHAPTER FOUR
Reception
LEN
IN Alot of ways, his lady-wife Daega d'Gayeh-Felthenethor was a complete and utter surprise. The story told around hearths for generations had been that the Istarii Drakan were cruel and lusty. They took without thought for the pain they might cause, they mated completely on instinct and whim, and they were crude and uncultured. But he'd seen none of that from his in-laws or his new wife. Was it an act, their warmth and their kindness? Were they pretending to be good people to lull him into a false sense of security and strike a killing blow later?
Or...had it never been true? Had his people been lied to, fed stories of the horrors committed by an enemy that was, in fact, no more monstrous than any elf? Len was chilled by the thought, that so much blood might have been spilled over...overlies. And who would have even wanted tostartsuch stories? What reason could there be for them?
"And what is this, brother?" Daega's youngest sister, Vrinn, asked, poking a claw at the portion of meadow salad on her plate. It took him a moment to realize she was talking tohim—just like that, he was "brother" now.
His chest swelled with emotion. "I-it's called m-meadow salad. It's made up of—of flowers and greens that commonly grow in meadows."
"You eatflowers?" she asked, clearly dubious. "You elves will eatanythingbut a proper meal."
He blinked, shocked at her response. "Th-this is not...a p-proper meal?"
Daega sighed, kicking her sister under the table. "Stop complaining, you," she chided, taking a bite of her own portion of the salad. "There's more to food than meat and potatoes, and it's not the fault of the elves that you're an uncultured sow."
"Slag off, you old cunt," Vrinn grinned, flinging a dandelion head at Daega's face and managing to hit her square in the nose. "I was only teasing, anyway."
Len gave up on trying to understand what was happening. They spoke roughly to each other, even cruelly, but no real anger seemed to flare, the exchanges almostloving, somehow. But that made no sense to him—why should siblings who loved each other be cruel?
Kevothaen, who was on Daega's other side, leaned past his daughter and patted Len's arm. "Sorry about my girls, son," he chuckled, his wings flexing behind him. "They mean no offense.Aye, Vrinn?"
The younger girl—who was still an adult, just not quite as old as her sisters—huffed in annoyance but took a bite of her salad and smiled at him. "Oh, aye. No offense meant, prince-brother. Wouldn't want a diplomatic incident over asalad."
The girls' mother barked something at them in Draka that made Daega sigh and point at his father, Haedelon, at the head of the table. He'd been trying to learn Draka since he'd found out about the marriage, in the hopes it would smooth things between them, but the material he’d had to learn off of had been meager and poor, and their speech was so quick and fluid he only caught "careful" "peace" and possibly "salad".
"N-no offense was t-taken; I assure you it's quite alright." He swallowed as six pairs of glittering black eyes swung to look at him. "You—you're guests here. If the food is not to your l-liking—"
Daega's hand on his knee shocked him into silence. "Easy, Len," she grinned. "Are you always so nervous?" Now that Daega was in her ceremonial leathers her modesty was restored, but he found that his face flamed at the memory of her strong, trim body swathed in delicate lace every time he looked at her.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, hating how he curled in on himself with shame. His over-apologizing wasalsosomething that his father critiqued at every opportunity, but he couldn’t seem to break the habit.
She drew back, looking shocked, though her hand tightened on his knee. "Sorry for beingnervous?" She peered at him, cocking her head. When she spoke it was softly, so only he would hear. "They did a fucking number on you, sweetling."
There was that nickname again, melting something inside of him and making his eyes burn.
She squeezed his knee again, nodding as if she'd confirmed something, and leaned in close. "Well, they won't be able to hurt you anymore. You'reminenow, and I take care of what's mine." There was no darkness to her words, nothing in her tone or her face that made him think she was being possessive with him, and yet he found himselffeelingpossessed, felt something arcing out of him and being drawn to her like a lodestone. He wondered what she might have meant by that, and his mind conjured dark things, sensual things, that heated his skin and made his cock twitch against his leg.
He needed to regain control of the situation, needed to get control of himself. "I-I am a man g-grown," he spat out, his fingers tight on his fork. "And I can t-take care of myself."
Her mouth thinned with displeasure, but she shook out her wings and tossed her head, regaining her composure.
"Aye, I know it well, Prince," she assured him. "But among my people, it is a spouse's sacred duty to care for their mate. Doesn't matter who's male or who's female or changer or any of the rest; care is given, however that looks."
He had nothing to say to that; Len dropped his eyes from hers, from the intense scrutiny that was making him so uncomfortable, and resumed his meal in silence, his focus locked on his plate.
Daega sighed, then shoved him gently with the side of her body. “I’m sorry, Len,” she said, keeping her body pressed to his. “I really didn’t mean any harm. But of course I feel bad that harm’s been done, anyway. Forgive me?”
Len was quiet, considering. He wanted to sulk, to just sink into himself and not have to deal with all the tricky nuances of his new relationships, but if he wanted to be treated like a man, then he had to act like one. And he had to admit to himself that pouting and shutting down wasn’t a very adult thing to do. He set down his fork and folded his hands in his lap, squeezing tight.
