Page 39 of Esperance

She had studied him intently at the altar, but now, standing alone together in their suite . . . it was like seeing him for the first time. The dark hair that fell over a deeply tanned brow. Those piercing blue eyes set under thick eyebrows. The high cheekbones and angular jaw that looked sculpted by the Divinities themselves. The cords of muscle that ran along his neck, and the exposed column of his throat. The line of his mouth.

Despite his reputation, and the fact that he was her enemy . . . Carver Vincetti was undeniably the most captivating and handsome man she’d ever seen.

Of course, that only made him more dangerous.

Her breathing was too shallow as she forced herself to meet his eye. “Yes?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she tensed. She felt his gaze like a physical touch as it swept over her hair. The curve of her cheek. Her lips.

Her stomach dropped. She could feel his desire, and she wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it. This morning, he’d told her they wouldn’t share a bed. But with the way he was looking at her . . .

Carver reached into his pocket and withdrew a ring of iron keys. “These are for you. I requested extra copies, so you can have a set.”

He held them out, and Amryn took the ring automatically. The cold metal bit into her palm. “Thank you.”

He dipped his chin. “There’s a key for each door in the suite. I think it would be best if you keep things locked, especially when I’m not around.”

She nodded, squeezing the keys in her hand. She hadn’t expected this from him. It was a measure of control that he’d relinquished; it made the apartment a little less confining. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice a mere whisper.

“You’re welcome.” He took a step back. “Goodnight.”

She echoed the same, then moved for the bedroom. As she twisted the lock on the door and prepared for bed, she could hear Carver moving; washing in the bathing chamber, then shuffling around the sitting room as he arranged his bed on the settee. But more than the small sounds, she couldfeelhim. The brandy he’d indulged in at dinner blurred his emotions, making his exhaustion and frustration bleed together. However, through it all, that heady sense of attraction remained locked in place.

As did her own.

It took a long time for Amryn to fall asleep.

Chapter 12

Carver

Carver’s shoulders pressed against thehard back of his chair, his eyes sweeping over the faces around him. They’d gathered in the east tower for their first meeting as the new Craethen Council, and they’d taken seats around a large round table that dominated the room. Chancellor Trevill had yet to join them, so the meeting hadn’t officially begun.

It had been one week since their marriages, and Carver had hardly felt able to breathe. High Cleric Zacharias had kept the newly wedded couples busy with his meticulously cultivated schedule, which included teas, religious lectures, and games designed to help them get to know each other. They rarely had a free moment, which meant Carver was on constant alert. He studied the men and women around him, watching for any signs that someone might be an enemy to the empire. His only respite—other than his morning meditations—were the few times the men had been granted an hour or two on the training field. When he was holding a sword—even a practice one—the buzzing in his head quieted. The restlessness that twitched throughout his body stilled.

He itched to be out there right now. Saints, the afternoon couldn’t come soon enough.

He stretched his stiff neck, barely holding back a grunt. Sleeping on that cursed settee wasn’t helping his irritability. The thing was hard as stone, and far too narrow for his wide shoulders. He wasn’t getting enough sleep, though he couldn’t blame that all on the sleeping arrangements. Since Harvari, he rarely got a solid night’s rest. Either insomnia snared him as memories replayed in his mind, or he’d jerk awake drenched in sweat, gasping against a nightmare. His lack of sleep these days came from a different source, though. Most notably, from the woman who sat beside him.

Amryn was a distraction he hadn’t anticipated. Whenever she was near, his eyes seemed incapable of looking anywhere else. Her scent filled his nose, even when she wasn’t with him. It was there every morning he dressed in the washroom—in the soap on the counter and in the brush that rested beside his comb. It permeated the air of their sitting room, swirling around him every night as he tried to sleep.

They’d only had a handful of conversations over the past few days, since the high cleric kept them so busy, but already her voice whispered in his mind. He was attuned to her to an almost obsessive degree. Whenever she entered a room—even if she was still out of his view—he knew it. And in those moments, every thought in his head seemed to be snatched away. Even now, sitting silently beside him, she stole his attention. Which was bloody inconvenient, since he was supposed to be paying attention to everyone in the room, and not just her.

A yawn pulled at his jaw, making it crack. At least his lack of sleep last night had been for good reason. He’d been up half the night sneaking into the high cleric’s office and going over those letters about each of the Empire’s Chosen. He hadn’t dared remove them from the room, so he’d read them by the silver moonlight that streamed through the window. He didn’t bother with making copies, as that would be too time-consuming. Instead, he strained to read and assimilate every word that the local clerics had written about each of those selected to come to Esperance.

He couldn’t find a letter about Argent, so he started with Jayveh.

According to her cleric in Xerra, Jayveh attended services with her uncle and her brothers, and she never spoke out against the empire—even after her father’s throne had been taken from him. She was involved in several charities in Xerra. All of this, Carver had already known.

Rivard attended chapel religiously with his family. That was no surprise, since his bloodline was riddled with men and women who had dedicated their lives to the religion. Many had even been knighted by the church. The Order of Knights carried out a variety of duties for clerics; historically, they had been defenders, assassins, and empath hunters. Rivard’s cleric had only positive things to say about him, though he added it was “regrettable that Lord Quinn did not have the necessary skillset to join his older brothers in becoming knighted”. It was noted that “despite some troubles in his past”, all sins had been paid for. According to reports, Rivard visited his mother’s grave weekly, and he was a gentle soul.

Tam’s mother was apparently very ill—practically on her deathbed. It was a hard sacrifice for Tam to come to Esperance, but the cleric was certain she would do her duty; she honored her father too much to disobey. She came from a large family, she never spoke ill of anyone, and she devoutly attended all services and prayers that the church held. Her days were usually spent with her family, drawing, or designing dresses. Her tutors claimed she was smart enough to attend any university in the empire, though her father preferred to keep her home.

Samuel—who he knew vaguely from years ago—was reportedly one of the smartest students at Wendahl’s most prestigious academy. He studied everything from mathematics and biology to history and religious lore. He was an academic in every sense of the word. Samuel was, as his cleric put it, “a gifted young man with a thirst for knowledge and a mind open enough to explore religion, even if he is not always devout in his worship.” Samuel had never spoken against the empire or the church—or the rebels, it was noted.

Sadia reportedly grew up in the castle library—which made her an ideal match for Samuel, really—and she was reportedly a joy within her cousin’s court. She was often quiet, but she was kind. She wasn’t extremely religious, but she observed all the holidays. She had started several charities in Cael, including one that taught children of lower classes to read. Sadia could often be found tutoring many of the children herself. She was friendly to everyone, and freely gave her time and attention to anyone who asked. The cleric could think of no faults to share—only praise.

Darrin, due to his myriad of illnesses in his youth, had never travelled beyond the borders of Vadir. This was noted by the cleric, who made a point of saying this shouldn’t reflect poorly on his patriotism. He preferred days spent indoors, counseling with his father on the running of the kingdom. He wanted Vadir’s farms to flourish. He had been engaged once, about a year ago, but his betrothed had died in a carriage accident a month after the announcement was made. He would make a well-loved king one day.

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