Page 129 of A Cage of Crystal

“Very well,” Verdian said, giving Larylis a subtle nod. Larylis knew what he was wordlessly trying to convey: Larylis would check on Mareleau while Verdian assessed the situation with Teryn and the others. Verdian ordered two of his guards to remain behind with Larylis while the other two would accompany him on the hunt. Larylis had left Lord Hardingham and his own guards back at Ridine to keep an eye on things there.

“Let’s be off then,” Teryn said, then cast his smile at Larylis again. “You’ll join us on tomorrow’s hunt, though, won’t you? It will be like old times.”

Larylis mirrored his brother’s grin. Was he pulling at straws trying to find something malevolent in his brother’s eyes? Of course this was Teryn. This was his brother. His best friend. “Like old times.”

Only…where was Berol? She’d accompanied Larylis on his journey until he’d met up with Verdian. After that, she’d made an appearance now and then, reminding him she was still following, but her absence struck him now. Why wasn’t she perched on Teryn’s shoulder, elated to see him? Or at the very least circling overhead?

“Give her this.” Verdian’s voice roused Larylis from his thoughts. The king pulled his horse up beside Larylis’ mount and thrust out a small package.

Larylis took it, brow furrowed.

Verdian’s cheeks pinked again. “It’s for the baby. My…grandchild,” he muttered between his teeth, then pulled his horse away.

Larylis watched after him, a lump caught in his throat. While Larylis knew Mareleau’s condition was fabricated, Verdian’s gesture moved him. Perhaps he really had come to regret the awful things he’d said to her when they’d last spoken.

Larylis watched the party depart, a sight that made his gut feel heavy, then rode for the other end of the meadow. With Verdian’s gift clutched in his hand, he dismounted and made a beeline for Mareleau’s tent. Her three ladies caught sight of him and dipped into hasty curtsies.

“Majesty,” Breah said, eyes wide, “the queen is inside, but—”

He didn’t let her finish. Ignoring their flustered warnings, he charged into the tent, his heart racing with every step.

The air was heavy inside, even warmer than the outdoor summer temperature, infused with jasmine-scented steam. It wafted from a copper basin at the center of the tent. And in it was his wife.

She bolted upright when she saw him, rising from the tub in a rush. “Larylis!”

He pulled up short, eyes falling on her bare torso, taking in the rivulets of water trailing down her neck, her breasts, the planes of her stomach. He’d known she was bathing. Known she’d likely be naked. But seeing her like this, the surprise on her face, followed by the way she immediately sank back into the tub, filled him with an aching sense of self-awareness.

He turned abruptly around. “I’m sorry,” he called over his shoulder, not daring to look at her. “I thought you’d be behind a screen.”

He heard nothing in reply, only the pounding of his heart.

Seven devils, had he embarrassed her? Offended her?

He’d been too caught in his worry, his passion, his desperation to see her, that he hadn’t stopped to consider one important thing: that even though they’d loved each other for years and were now married, their relationship was still new in many ways. They’d been estranged for longer than they’d been lovers and had spent most of their marriage apart. While Larylis was confident when writing love letters, able to bare his soul and express the depths of his heart behind the safety of a quill and paper, he suddenly found himself feeling very much tongue-tied and vulnerable. How was he supposed to act with her in person? Could he voice aloud the things he’d said in his letters?

As for seeing her naked…well, they’d only been wholly intimate once. That hardly granted him permission to barge in on her while she was bathing. What had he been thinking? Still, the memory of their single night of passion surged through him now, mingling with the sight of seeing her in the tub. It sent heat coursing through him that he wasn’t sure was entirely appropriate in this moment. Never before had he felt less like a king and more like a fool.

He swallowed hard and took a step forward, prepared to bolt from the tent—

“Larylis.” This time Mareleau’s voice held no surprise, only softness. “Turn around, you idiot.”

The taunting in her tone set his nerves at ease, encouraged his lips to curl up at the corners. Slowly, he shifted back to face her.

She was standing again, but this time her chin was lifted, her shoulders thrown back. Again, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down her figure. Now that he had her permission, he let himself savor every inch of her slick skin, her ample curves, the pale hair that framed her shoulders. He lifted his gaze to her eyes, saw hunger in them, as well as a dash of timidity that matched his own. She grinned, biting a corner of her bottom lip.

“Come here.” Her words were whispered, but there was command in her tone. “Get in the tub with me.”

His stomach tightened, his mind going blissfully empty.

He dropped the gift and shrugged off his jacket and sword belt in quick succession, letting them fall to the floor before he strode straight for his wife. With every step, he loosened a button, discarded one piece of clothing, then the next, until he stood bare before the tub, his lips pressed against hers. She pulled him tight to her, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Her tongue swept against his, and he released a throaty moan.

He no longer felt an ounce of apprehension between them. His fear melted away, as did his self-consciousness. In this moment, he was the confident king he’d been in his letters. Every promise he’d made, every embarrassing poem he’d drafted during their time apart now filled his lips, his tongue, his fingertips, reaffirming his affection for her.

Stepping blindly into the tub, he erased every inch of space that separated them. One hand circled her bottom while the other explored the generous curve of her breast. She arched against him as if she yearned to be even closer than their flush bodies would allow. He breathed in every kiss she gave him like it was air, touched every part of her like he was committing the feel of her to memory. Desire seared his core, coalescing in a hungry roar that pulsed between them, infused their shared kisses and groping hands. He sank into the basin, his fingers tangled in her sodden hair. She followed him into the water, straddling his hips as she lowered herself on top of him.

She pulled her face back slightly, eyes locked on his. “Gods, I missed you, Lare.”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to say anything back. Instead, she kissed him again. With a rock of her hips, she lowered herself further onto him, sparking new sensations of pleasure. Larylis forgot his fears, forgot everything but her as they lost themselves in each other’s bodies, in their love, and made up for lost time.