Page 22 of The Poison of the Earth
Stones, he is an idiot. A determined one, but an idiot nonetheless.
I lean back, tilting my head. My exasperation must show for he blinks and his hand rises again. I step back quickly.
“I do not wish to sleep with my employer,my captor, no matter the organs involved,” I spit angrily before I can think better of it.This bastard is as dense as a brick.
Something flashes across his face. “Of course, Allie. I apologize. Here,” he responds in a near whisper as he holds out the book.
“Thank you, Sire,” I say, taking it. And he turns on his heel and leaves.
THE NEXT DAY PASSESas usual. But the morning after, I awake to a small package outside my door. I take it and go back into my room, even though I was headed for the kitchen. I tear open the paper and inside are two exquisite sets of hair pins. One set with leaf-shaped emeralds on the tops, the other a simpler pair, but made of a gorgeous rich red wood and the ends carved into a water droplet shape. I put them down and grab the note.
“So that you may use your pens for writing. –Lonan P.S. Water”
A water Fae?I ponder that as I quickly unbraid my hair and wrap it up with the simple sticks. That would have been my last guess.
The rest of the day is normal, no sign of Lonan. The fact that I have the second most powerful and the first most feared Fae in the realm on the run does wonders for my mood and restlessness.
The next three mornings, I awake to packages. First is the three books of the EarthSea series, for me to keep. Next is a new nightgown, with tiny pearl buttons and delicate embroidery around the hem, and lined with flannel, for the winter. Third is a potted miniature rose bush. I brought it in and pruned its dead ends and sung it to it immediately.
He thinks he can buy my cunt with pretty things.Well, I’m going to let him, that’s for certain. But he needs to chase, to win me if I want him as devoted as I hope he’ll be.To rule a realm, I need a disinterested yet indulgent husband.
When I open my door the fourth morning there is nothing. I pin my hair up with the emerald sticks and head for the kitchen. I round the corner and run directly into Lonan’s muscular chest.
“Oh, Allie,” he gasps, surprised, as he grabs my elbows to steady me. He doesn’t let them go.
He smiles winningly, “I guess I’m running a bit late this morning.”
I look down, heart hammering at his touch. He affects me so strangely. This Fae is my mark and yet he has me nearly twitterpated, thinking of him at all hours of the day.And night. I bite back a grimace.
“Here. This is for you.” He holds out an envelope, other hand still cupping my elbow gently.
I dip my head, “Thank you, my lord.”
He steps back as I take the envelope and hold it to my chest.
“Please, call me Lonan.” His voice is near-desperate.
He needs the crumb. “Lonan,” I respond in a whisper, as though I was saying the true name of the Goddess herself.
Men are fools.
It does feel nice to say it though.What in the stones is wrong with me? I cannot explore what these feelings mean right now.
He steps back and I feel a pang at the distance, but he nods and strides away. I stand, frozen for a few heartbeats, struggling with the unusual, tight ache in my chest, before remembering the envelope.
I tear it open and read it hungrily.
“Allie, I have spoken with several residents of Thistle Grove and have found you employment with a merchant and a room to rent with a family. Shall we speak of it tonight, after dinner, in my rooms? I promise I will maintain my distance, if you wish it. -Lonan”
Fuck fuck fuck,I think, as I read it over again. No. This is not what I had planned. I have overplayed my ‘coy’ hand. Well, I guess this meeting tonight will have to involve a bit of excitement. The idea inexplicably sends a thread of heat through me. Mayhap I need to get laid as badly as Lonan does.
AFTER BREAKFAST, THEdoor breezes open and the black haired Captain, Caspian, strides in.
“Cas,” Cook says, continuing grinding the nuts to make a nut butter for the sandwiches she has planned for lunch, “Are you here for trouble?” She waggles her gray eyebrows.
Cook’s a flirt at heart.
“As always, my love,” Caspian replies smoothly, smiling and slipping onto a stool at the one work table. He’s wearing all black, well-fitted clothes.
