Page 104 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
Nes leaned forward, her posture screaming for him to continue. A shallow rhythm vibrated against his thighs where they touched the underside of the table. He’d bet anything she was tapping her foot against the wooden leg.
Covering his smile with a healthy swallow of whiskey, he drained his cup.She’s going tohatethis.He stood up and crept at a snail’s pace to his bar where he took his time refilling his glass before ultimately deciding to bring the whole decanter back with him. He didn’t want her to push her so far that she got up and fled.
Nesrina ran her tongue along her top row of teeth in annoyance and held out her glass for a refill.
“Where was I—”
“Cafer the Penniless moved to Stormhill.”
“Kahovirib,” he corrected with a quirk of the lips. “Everyone still called it by its old name when this story took place.”
“Whendidthis story take place?”
“Mmm...” He did quick math: he was now twenty-six, his dad was forty when he was born, his grandfather had been around thirty when Kas’s father had come into the world. “About eighty years ago.”
“Oh.”
“May I continue?”
She eyed him incredulously.
He pumped his brows, and she rolled her eyes. “Cafer made a new home inKahovirib, and though he had no coin to start his own shop, he found employment at the estate of the Lord and Lady of Stormhill, taking a position in their kitchens.”
“These kitchens.”
“These kitchens.” Kas nodded.
“Then what happened?” Nesrina leaned forward with her glass clasped between her two hands. At some point he’d slid their plates off to the side, which left her room to perch with her forearms atop the linen.
The way she angled herself accentuated her bosom, but Kas tried his best not to look. Instead, he focused on the way the greens in her eyesglittered in the flickering candlelight. “Then, Cafer Kahoth—”
She let out a smallish gasp.
“CaferKahoth,” he emphasized again, enjoying her reaction. “Met the heiress to the Duchy, Lady Shireen.”
“Oh!”
He grinned. “‘Oh,’ is right. My great-grandparents did not mind in the least, for Cafer was a fine young man with a heart of gold and a drive they recognized would make him an excellent partner for their daughter, and a worthy leader for their people.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Her rosebud lips remained open in a small circle as she processed all that he’d said. Given the surname had lived on, Kas knew he didn’t need to continue the tale, but she leaned back and narrowed her eyes at him as if she believed his entire story had been a ruse. “Tell me more.”
Kas barked with laughter. “Honestly, Nes, I’m not sure what else there is to say. The two were married, here at Stormhill in the old temple out—”
“There’s an old temple here?” Her eyes grew into round saucers.
He couldn’t help but laugh again. “There is, I can’t believe I haven’t shown it to you. It was ancient then, and it’s all but ruins now. We’ll go. I’ll take you there soon.”
“With the twins?”
“No. I mean, sure. If you want them to go. It’s not exactly safe these days. The place has essentially caved in on itself, grown over and full of hidden crevices. I wouldn’t want them to be injured.”
Nes bobbed her head and sipped her whiskey slowly. It left a glistening sheen on her lips as she said, “I’d love to see it sometime.”
“I’ll take you,” Kas repeated his promise, meaning it with every fiber of his being.
She nodded again as a light blush crept up her neck.
“Cafer and Shireen went on to live a blissfully happy life, according to family stories. They brought not one, not two, but eight children into the world.”
