Page 109 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

She was drying herself beside the soaking pool when Toren hurried in, his face lined with worry. “Ria! Thank the gods you are well. Once we left court, Feref told me you hadn’t awakened, but when you weren’t in bed…”

Smiling, she wrapped a drying cloth around her hair. “I wanted a nice soak without anyone hovering.”

“And what if you had fallen?” he asked, glaring at the tile floor as though it could attack.

Truth be told, she probably should have considered that, but if she didn’t stand firm now, Toren would coddle her to the edge of sanity. “I was careful. I’m sorry I worried you, but if you’d checked our link, you would’ve known I was fine.”

“It’s only…” He stepped forward to embrace her, but she held up her hands to stop him. His expression turned to hurt. “Has my concern angered you so greatly?”

Ria shook her head and gestured at his court attire. “That overrobe is embroidered velvet, and I’m still damp. If you want to ruin such fine, expensive fabric, do it out of my view.”

Toren glanced down as though to confirm her words. Had the man forgotten what he was wearing? Probably, since he was accustomed to such garb. But fine flowers had been stitched along the hem of the forest green velvet and in decorative swirls along his chest. Depending on the type of thread used, there was a chance it might shrink, puckering the whole design. The servants could remove water stains from the velvet with enough effort, but the stitching—

“Perhaps I should change,” Toren said, laughter in his voice.

“Please do,” Ria countered primly. “I’ll not have Feref angry at me again for causing the servants so much extra work.”

Toren sighed with resignation, though his eyes still twinkled. Maybe she should worry about his clothing every time he went on a rant. “Very well. I’d rather wear something simpler at my desk, anyway.”

She grabbed her robe from its hook and shrugged into it, then followed him to the dressing room door. “I’ll go get dressed, too. And I’ll call for servants so that you don’t have to worry. Iamsorry. Next time, I’ll at least have someone outside the door in case I need help.”

His frown suggested that he was about to argue with such light precautions, but before he could, she gave him a quick kiss and slipped out of the room. If she stuck around, he would have her bundled up in bed before she knew it—without him or Mehl. Then it might become a habit. Sleeping in was one thing, but she had far better things to do for the next nine months than lie in bed by herself.

At the moment? She wanted to finish the clothes she’d secretly been working on—formal outfits for her presentation to the court. Toren had delayed the event because of Tes’s execution and the arrival of Ryssa, or Ria wouldn’t have had a chance to create anything at all. The presentation would have been a few days ago, in fact. Now she would go before the court in a handful of days.

The kings had wanted to commission clothing to announce the search for a breeding alliance, and now she was creating the outfits with their child growing within her. Ria sighed. After last night, part of her wished she hadn’t talked Toren out of a wedding announcement instead. For the world to know she fully belonged to them…

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The world. Her lack of knowledge would cause the kings no small amount of trouble. No matter how she felt, she couldn’t allow them to invite that.

* * *

At the castlewall bordering one side of the soldiers’ field, Mehl placed the practice sword on the rack and then rolled his shoulders against the satisfying ache. Instead of his usual intensity, he’d felt only enjoyment as he’d gone through the drills, even when he’d sparred with Sir Macoe. He was simply too happy to do anything but revel in training, one of his favorite activities—well, his favorite outside of bed, of course.

Sir Macoe set down his own sword, but he didn’t leave. Crossing to an open area beside Mehl, he slipped into stretches designed to keep his muscles limber. Mehl followed suit. An unexpected leg cramp or muscle spasm would only make Toren and Ria worry, and Toren was on edge enough. With his protective instincts roused by Ria’s pregnancy, it would be a good idea to avoid catching his eye, at least with anything that would cause concern.

They went through the stretching routine in silence, until the remaining guards either left for the bathhouse or grabbed new weapons and returned to the yard to spar. “They are near the border,” the captain murmured as soon as they were alone.

Mehl tensed. “The Centoi?”

“And Prince Ber,” Sir Macoe said with a nod. “Are you certain he should be allowed entry? Having been exiled…”

“Though I’m not happy about it, Toren and I both think it’s best,” Mehl replied, much as he hated the words. “If we don’t hear what he has to say openly, he’ll only try to slip in through other means.”

Sir Macoe lowered his arms and straightened. “I have a count and description of each person in the group, and those have been noted on a daily basis, too. We’ll not be caught in another deception like the last.”

Mehl rotated his wrists. “Say nothing, but put extra guards on Ria. She’s with child.”

“There is much speculation to that effect, since she fainted last night,” Sir Macoe said. “I take it you’re waiting to announce it?”

“Until Ber is gone,” Mehl confirmed.

“Probably wise.” Sir Macoe eyed a group of approaching warriors. “Back to work for me.” The captain cleared his throat. “Thank you for your advice, Your Majesty.”

That last was a little louder as the group neared, and Mehl hid a smile as Sir Macoe suddenly bowed, then walked over to the next soldier in need of a sparring session. It was a strange thing, to be at a higher rank than the person he had once trained under, but they’d settled into a respectful relationship, all the same.

But Mehl still couldn’t bring himself to drop the honorific and call the captain merely Macoe, as Toren did. Some habits were buried deep, he supposed. Like storing the padding he wore for training and heading to the showers. Most times, he reminded himself to use his own bathing chamber in the palace, but when he wanted a moment alone, he let himself follow routine.

Though once, he would have done none of this alone. Not really. Warriors lived and worked in close quarters, so it was a little unnatural that the others made themselves scarce when he trained. Today, the bathhouse was mostly empty already, but the few who’d been there made short work of cleaning up and hurrying out. He didn’t even know their names to bid them farewell.

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