Page 73 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
twenty-five
Nesrina and Kas ride in a carriage.
ThecarriageridefromRohilavol to their first night’s inn was smooth and calm, on the outside. The inside of Nes’s mind was a tumultuous affair.
Kas never spoke of the night before, didn’t say one word about it, which had her insides in an absolute jumble that no delicious breakfast of hot honey on bread, no perfectly poured cups of tea, and no ten-hour carriage ride could resolve.
She stared out the window at the sun sinking toward the horizon. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted him, physically. And he had wanted her too... at least once. Now that he’d had her, seen her,tastedher... she couldn’t help but wonder if that meant he was sated.
She balled her hands into fists.
Across the carriage bench, Lord Kahoth chuckled at her.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing,tilal.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged, one side of his mouth curled ever so slightly, and he busied himself with the view to his left rather than across from him.
Even if he was still attracted to her, the practicalities were far too much to parse through.Ugh.It was all too much. She was a tutor, and he was a bloody duke. It wasn’t done.
That was the beauty of the symposium,a voice inside her mind chimed in. And she knew it was true. The annual event was a space where the academically minded could co-exist, like the Institute itself waltzed out into town with open arms, beckoning all of Selwas to come and learn with no pretensions and no presumptions. Little to no high society formality trickled in from the world beyond. There, in Rohilavol, there were no impossibilities,anythingwas possible. As she’d experienced firsthand.
That’s the only place you belong,the rational voice inside her purred, and it was right, the bitch. The Symposium of Prodigious Minds was truly the sole place they could work—as one. The duke and the tutor. Equally matched in intellect yet worlds apart in social standing.
Continuing their friendship beyond the bounds of the symposium was feasible, passably acceptable even, as long as they stuck to simple conversations in public settings and the occasional piece of written correspondence. The way life back at Stormhill would play out was anyone’s guess, but Nes knew she wouldn’t be staying there forever. And when she left, their friendship would fade. Perhaps not... but either way,anythingbeyond a friendship was impossible. Inadvisable. Idiotic.
When they entered an inn after their first day of travel, Kas asked for two rooms, and she knew it was done.
Whatever bliss she’d inadvertently stumbled upon at the symposium was over. Kas, who’d launched her to the moon and beyond to shatter amongst the stars was... gone. Nesrina resolutely packed away “Kas Kahoth” and tried her best to gracefully welcome the return of “Lord Kahoth, Duke of Stormhill.”
Theseconddayoftravel was similar to their first. Kas—Lord Kahoth—stared pointedly out the window, as if he were giving her privacy with her own thoughts, in spite of being cooped up together in a six-by-nine-foot box.
Nesrina took the opportunity to gaze upon him, his wide high cheekbones, his small, pillowy mouth... she paused for a breath... the way his curls, as yet unruffled that morning, maintained their shape atop his pate, the way he drummed his fingers against any available surface whilst deep in thought—currently his knee.
He wasn’t perfect, far from it, in fact. But there was something about Lord Kahoth, herfriend,that was endlessly, excessively,obsessivelyintriguing; so much so that Nesrina feared she’d never be content with a friendship.
My friend.She tested the phrase again, tested the concept itself, and found it wanting—which was really saying something, considering she had no other friends besides her mother.
As they rumbled north along the dusty road, she studied him like she would a dense tome. The type that was almosttooperplexing and full of titillating ideas to fully digest. The kind you had to set down and walk away from, in order to process the new world-altering information you gleaned from the dusty pages.
ThereturntriptoStormhill was . . . tense, to say the least. All Kas wanted to do was reach across the aisle and tug her onto his lap. He wanted to hold her close and cover her adorable face in a million tiny kisses. He wanted to court her properly, but she would hardly evenlookat him.
That whole first day on the road, he thought he’d committed some horrible sin. Perhaps he had, and he didn’t know it. As they rolled north over hard-packed roads, he reassessed his assumption. Was it possible she’d lost her attraction to him? Had her heart moved on after their single night spent in each other’s arms? He’d rather die than have that be the case, so he refused to consider it any further. But, in case, he secured them two rooms at their inn.
Alone, in his shoddy bed at the shoddy riverside inn, he lay awakewondering what she was doing in the room next door. It was during those quiet hours that he realized his heart had developed a new rhythm, at least where Nes was concerned. It beat the tiniest bit faster and gave no signs of slowing at any point in the near future. To make things worse, it damn near exploded on the rare occasions when shediddeign to glance in his direction, however fleeting her attention.
At the symposium it wasn’t fleeting at all.
Kas sighed wistfully, remembering the way Nes responded to his magic’s caresses... the way he’d lifted her up and she’d wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him like he was her savior... the way they’d tangled together on the enormous bed... the way she’d shattered for him.
He sighed again, slower and shakier, recognizing he was well and truly besotted with Nesrina. But somethinghadchanged with her when their carriage pulled away from Rohilavol two days before. She was back to calling himlordand he wasn’t sure how long he could handle it.
Patience, Kas,he chided himself.
With eyes shuttered for protection, he chanced a glance in her direction to find her asleep, dainty head rattling against the carriage window. A sad smile pulled at his lips as he sent out a cool cord of air, pushing it between her face and the glass, providing a cushion for her nap.
