Page 155 of Prize for the King
First Khay, then Arvi, then Magnar again examine my belly until I can’t help but laugh. When Raduna comes in bearing two enormous trays laden with food, they make him touch me, too, until all my men agree they feel the swell of my pregnancy.
Anke arrives when I’m bathed and fed, wearing only a warm bathrobe from the wardrobe in my old room. She’s a kind, brisk Agnidari woman with long silver hair and dark eyes, her full mouth stern. I answer all her questions, and she pronounces me completely healthy.
After we eat, I just remember to go to my father’s study, and I drag Khay with me. I can’t face this room alone, The enormous desk hunkers in the middle like a beast from a nightmare, even though it’s ornately carved, many elements painted gold.
I spend just enough time in there to get what I need. My father kept personal records of every Gathering of Kings from the moment he took the throne, and he also employed spies. All the information is there, and I’m determined to learn it well should we ever need an edge.
I paid a high price for my political knowledge. Might as well use it to aid my father’s enemy, my husband.
Magnar claims me as his for the night, lying with me in my oldbed. It’s large, and yet he can’t completely straighten his legs without having them hang over the edge. He hugs me close, his warm palm curled protectively over my belly, and we sleep.
I wake up in the dead of night. It’s dark, the embers in the fireplace giving the faintest reddish glow to the room. The moons must have set, or maybe hidden behind clouds, because no light falls in through the one window we left uncovered. I shiver, turning to look at Magnar. All I see is the faintest outline of his white hair scattered on the pillow. He sleeps deeply, his breaths even.
I don’t have the heart to wake him, but I need comfort. Shivering from cold and terror, I wrap my robe tightly around me and don thick, woolen socks. The floor is cold, and when I open the door, a draft slithers between my legs.
Outside, the corridor is lit by a lone lantern. I walk briskly to the room I know is Khay’s and slip inside. He’s either awake or wakes instantly, because his hoarse voice welcomes me from the threshold.
“Who’s there?”
“Caliane,” I whisper. “Say something so I’ll find you. It’s too dark to see.”
He sings two verses of his courting song until my legs hit the edge of the bed, and I climb in. Khay tugs me closer, his body heat instantly chasing the cold away.
“Rough night?” he asks, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
“I hate this place,” I whisper, trying to sound vicious, but my voice is tremulous instead. “I can’t wait to leave.”
He hums thoughtfully, and I tense, waiting for him to ask me why. He doesn’t. Khay breathes me in, flexing his hips. I realize he’s hard, and his hands begin to roam, undoing the belt keeping my robe tight, slipping underneath to stroke my hip and palm my breast.
There is no urgency. It’s all so cozy and warm, hidden away in the darkness, and he hums with pleasure. He doesn’t try toundress me further, and I relax against him, sinking into the comfort of the man who held my hand through some of the worst moments of my life.
“Do you know our tale about the two moons?” he asks in a hoarse, sleepy murmur.
“No. Will you tell me?”
“Mmm. So the large one isnadiri, agoddess. She shines brightly, all powerful and benevolent. She looks at the world with compassion, her heart full of love.”
“Nadiri?” I repeat. “It’s so similar to your word for queen.”
He huffs with amusement. “Nahiri, yes. Well, a queen is like a goddess. That’s why they are similar.”
“And the small moon?”
He pulls my hips closer until my backside molds to his groin, and he moves languidly, deep, luxurious breaths conveying his pleasure.
“He’s her warrior. Whenever she rises over the horizon, he’s right behind her, following in her wake and keeping her safe. You see, she’s so bright and loving, so generous, she forgets to take care of her own needs and light. He’s there to remember. Like your knights who bring you food, draw you baths, make you come…”
His hand presses between my legs, and my breath hitches. I roll my hips, first pushing back into his erection, then forward into his waiting palm. He rumbles, slowing down his movements.
“Do you also have tales about the moons?”
I don’t reply, wrestling with my robe. It’s gotten too hot, and I growl, annoyed when the fabric gets trapped between us. Khay chuckles and rolls away until I manage to take it off and throw it somewhere on the bed.
When he settles back against me with a pleased murmur, I speak. “The small moon is the lady, and the big one is her knight. It’s similar to your stories, I suppose. He’s always with her, he protects her, and keeps her safe. She’s small and weak, a woman. She needs him toguard her against evil.”
Khay snorts, rolling his hips into me. “So similar yet so different, hm? I like ours better. It makes more sense for the warrior to follow his lady, not the other way round. Also, why is your knight the shiny one? It’s stupid. A true protector should hide in the shadows and strike when necessary. Yours is so bright, he’d never notice it if something happened to his lady. Really, diamond. It’s just another argument for Agnidari superiority.”
I shake with quiet laughter. “I agree with you. Your tale is better. And the Agnidari are far superior, especially when it comes to indoor plumbing.”
