Page 57 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
“Yes. Sorry, come in.”
Kas pushed open the door, this time with his hand, to find Nesrina standing in front of the fire, wearing a plush white robe that nearly skimmed the carpet. A discarded towel lay rumpled on the floor and her wet hair hung in honey rivulets that dripped in front of her shoulders and rippled over her chest.
Her breasts peeked out between the fold of the robe. To think, until a moment ago, they were out and experiencing the world. Kas dropped his gaze to Nes’s towel on the floor, blinking rapidly. He imagined being the fabric: wrapping around her body, sliding across smooth skin, brushing over her, drying her limbs and— What the fates was wrong with him?
His gaze landed on her face as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. When he met her mossy green eyes, she was giving him the look of someone holding onto an unspoken question.
He stood, frozen, waiting.
“What time is dinner?” she asked casually, retrieving her discarded towel to dry her hair before the fire.
That wasn’t what he expected her to say. Though, to be fair, he didn’t have any firm expectations in the first place... only hopes. Nesrina’s inquiry was downright domestic, oddly disarming. He wanted to hear that same mundane question from her lips day after day, forever.
Hecravedher, enjoyed her company above all others’, and could only hope she felt the same. Attraction was one thing, general interest another, but this all-consuming desire to befriend her, to hold her, and to have her at his sideforever? That was a whole other issue. A much bigger deal. One that deserved far more consideration.
“One hour,” he finally replied.
“Oh, no.” She stood and faced him again, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, her last word lingering on her lips.
“What’s wrong?”
Grabbing a chunk of hair and lifting, she said, “This won’t dry for ages, and I still have to style it. Would you help me?”
Nodding, he did as he had in the library the evening he’d finally invited her to join him. Or rather, when she’d asked to come along, and he’d happily obliged.
Kas was more than happy to acceptthisrequest too. It reassured him of her interest. It supported his hypothesis that courting was going well. It felt... domestic. Curling a warm breeze toward her, he used one well-shaped cord to pluck the unnecessary towel from her hand and hang it in the washroom.
Her head swiveled, tracking the fabric as it floated across the room. “Ghostly.”
He chuckled, urging his wind to focus on her hair, letting the air ripple through her waves, pushing and twisting the curls as they took shape, drying nicely. She’d asked, after all. He intended to do a good job.
Nes whimpered, dropping her head back as he worked through her thick layers. “Feels good,” she murmured.
All he could manage was a grunt, as a twisting strand of air skated over her jaw and down her neck, before he snapped himself out of it and pulled back.
“All done.”
Her hands flew to her head, and she pranced to the mirror, finding her hair dry, and curlier than he’d ever seen it before. “Oh, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You should leave it down.” The words were out before he even realized he’d been thinking them.
Her ribbon of laughter curled right around his heart. “I can’t do that! This may be a casual place but it’s notthatcasual. No one can see me like this.”
He flinched. “Am I no one then?”
“It’s not— It wouldn’t be— You’re— You’reyou.” She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.
Gods, he loved when she got flustered. But he loved that statement more: “You’re you.” It wasn’t so much her choice of words as it was her tone, like she was speaking an undeniable, weighted fact. He replayed it over in his mind while she selected a gown, the deep blue and bronze one that was his second favorite.
When Nesrina disappeared into the washroom, Kas noticed his favorite gown, the solid gold one, hanging in the open wardrobe. He hoped that meant she was saving it... for the gala. He hadn’t seen her wear it yet, and the dinners he insisted she attend at Stormhill provided ample opportunity. Honestly, he was beginning to think she didn’t like it, but to find she’d brought it along...
After enjoying a meager drink, Kas decided it was high time he gothimself ready for the night ahead. The innkeeper had offered to send up staff to help them dress, even bathe if needed. While Kas knew some nobility traveled with whole entourages to primp and prep them for events, that wasn’t his preference. He didn’tthinkit was hers either, not based on what Aylin told him.
But, he realized abruptly, Nes didn’t grow up with a house full of servants. Maybe shedidwant the help? Oh,leneteki,damn it, he should’ve asked instead of making the decision for her.
He finished buttoning up his deep blue dinner jacket with the bronze closures that may or may not have matched her dress as the washroom door creaked open.
“Kas?” Her soft voice floated over.
