Page 165 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
MYRA
Myra pressedher back against the door of the bathing chambers. The satin fabric crumbled in her fists as she held it against her stomach. She rushed over to the mirror and gripped the porcelain sink. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing labored.
What were they doing? Laurince was recovering. He was avoiding his feelings.
Myra blinked at her reflection.Shewas avoiding them too, wasn’t she? After all, she had just run from Laurince, a man she was interested in. Beyond interested, really.
She was infatuated, consumed, and overwhelmed by him.
Was that all this was, though? Was Myra simply physically attracted to him?
Her fingers loosened around the sink, and the nightdress slipped from her grasp, landing at her feet.
Myra knew it was a lie the moment she questioned it. Her interest in Laurince went beyond physical attraction. The captain was funny and kind. He was protective, but not aggressively so, like some of her past suitors had been. He didn’t want to shrink her down. Instead, he sought to arm her, prepareher, and push her. He even trained her—something no other man had ever taken the time to do. Armen had even joked about how ridiculous it would have been for her to wield a weapon. Laurince’s instructions were always respectful but never lenient. And while Myra was terrible at wielding a sword, Laurince never gave up on her.
Even over the course of the past two days, he had frequently asked if she was keeping up with her exercises. When she had lied the first time, he had gently chastised her and encouraged her to keep practicing. She hadn’t lied since.
That was the type of man Laurince was. Rather than focusing on his own problems, Laurince always checked on her. He checked on everyone.
Laurince was more than an excellent captain; he was a good man.
Yet Myra had run from him.
She tipped her head back and groaned. She was such a foolish woman.
Her gaze fell on the satin green fabric pooled at her feet. She could still rectify this.
Myra snatched the flimsy fabric and threw it on. Once changed, she stared at her reflection and frowned. She should have inspected the garment more closely when Phaia had given it to her. The green fabric melted over her curves, and the neckline framed her breasts almost obscenely. She tugged on the flimsy straps that were barely the width of her pinky.
Sighing, Myra pushed her hair over her shoulders, letting it fall over her collarbone. Her blonde hair wasn’t as thick as Kallie’s and barely covered her bare skin. If she walked out of this room, there would be no hiding.
She eyed her discarded clothes. She could change back. She could go ask Phaia for a sweater. Or maybe a burlap sack.
Turning away from the mirror, Myra leaned her hips against the sink and rubbed a hand across her face. She didn’t know why she was suddenly feeling shy. The men she had been with before had seen plenty more of her, yet this felt different.Everythingfelt different with Laurince.
Maybe Laurince would already be lying down by the time she returned. If she blew the candle out right away, he wouldn’t have the chance to notice what she was wearing.
By the gods, she was being ridiculous.
She didn’t think she was misreading the signs, but he could have changed his mind since she left.
Would he still want her to sleep in the same room as him, though? She practically ran away screaming.
Myra winced. He probably thoughthewas the problem. She had to at least apologize to him. Since the attack, she had made it a point to ensure they all treated him the same. Had she just ruined all of that work?
She pushed open the door and poked her head into the hall. Phaia’s door was still closed, and there were no flickering lights coming from the living room. She scurried across the hall. When she raised her hand to knock, she heard grumbling on the other side. Cracking open the door, she started to call out Laurince’s name but stopped short. Laurince struggled to undo the middle buttons on the back of his shirt. He reached for them, but his wings kept getting in the way.
Slipping inside, Myra shut the door and hurried over. She dropped her clothes on the trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. "Here. Let me."
"No, I can—" Laurince started but stopped when her hand touched his back. His entire body went rigid, the fidgeting coming to an abrupt halt.
"I got it." She swiftly undid the rest of the buttons.
Laurince stood immobile for a second, then another. Ever-so-slowly, he slipped his arms out of the fabric and gripped the shirt in his hands. "Thanks," he mumbled, the syllable tight.
"You’re welcome." Frowning, she took a step backward, giving him some space. "Laurince, I wanted to?—"
"Don’t," he gritted out.
