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Court's Fool (The Aermian Feuds Book 6)

Page 15

by Frost Kay


  They fell into a comfortable silence. A prickling feeling started on her left side, and she peeked at Raziel from the corner of her eye. His intense gaze was locked on her. She swallowed and tried to ignore him. It didn’t work.

  “You know it’s rude to stare at a woman? Especially while she’s eating?”

  “I enjoy watching you eat.”

  Mira cut him an incredulous look. “Well, stop. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Why should I? Is it wrong for me to take pleasure in your enjoyment of the meal I prepared for you?”

  He prepared the meal for her?

  Mira twisted to face him fully. “You jest,” she chided.

  The Methian prince reached out and ran the tip of his finger along her cheekbone. “Why should I not cook for the woman I am courting? It is only right that I show her that I can provide for her as well as care for her well-being.”

  A damned blush began to heat her cheeks. The man was too smooth for his own good. “I can care for myself.”

  Raziel nodded, a deep wine-colored lock falling across his right eye. “You are more than capable. But just because you can accomplish a task, it doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the burden all yourself. You deserve to be cared for.”

  Her jaw sagged. Who spoke like that? A man raised right. Those were few and far between. She’d seen the best the male population had to offer and also the worst. She’d given salve to women who sported too many bruises far too often and were worked to the bone.

  Mira snapped her mouth shut. “Not many share your sentiment.”

  “Then they don’t deserve to have a mate.”

  His vehement statement caused her to jerk, and she almost spilled her soup. She clutched the mug tighter. A sense of true camaraderie settled over Mira. She’d taken an instant liking to him when he’d begun to help the wounded. He always had a kind word or a way of drawing laughter from even the staunchest soldier. But to hear him speak about his own sex the way he did, it made her trust him. Trust wasn’t something she gave often.

  She finished her soup, relishing the herbs that had settled in the bottom—a final burst of flavor. “I like you,” she admitted.

  “It was the soup, wasn’t it?”

  Mira gave him a silly smile. “Most definitely.” Her mirth waned, and she eyed him. “I think I trust you as well.”

  Raziel’s smile faded. Intent and heat filled his expression, and his posture became languid, and yet predatory. She knew what that meant. Many a young girl had fallen for such a look and found themselves in a compromised position. While she trusted the prince not to take advantage of her, Mira didn’t trust herself when he was looking at her like that.

  She got to her feet slowly, so he wouldn’t think she was running away. Mira stepped closer, her skirts and cloak brushing his left leg. He was so tall that sitting on the log they were eye to eye. She held out the mug.

  “Thank you for breakfast and the wonderful company.”

  He pulled the cup from her fingers but held one of her hands. Her heart skipped a beat as he laid a kiss on the back of her fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mira.”

  She snatched her hand back. “You’re not courting me,” she blurted.

  Raziel gave her a lazy smile. “Dearest, there’s no deterring me.”

  Mira blinked at him. “It would never work. I’m a healer, and you’re a prince.”

  “Blood is blood. You won’t change my mind.”

  “And if I told you there was someone else?”

  The Methian prince stilled, and his eyes narrowed. “Is there?” he asked softly.

  “No,” she admitted. Mira wouldn’t lie to him. “But I’d like to know your answer all the same.”

  “If I knew you’d be well cared for, you were happy, and he was a good man, I would concede.”

  “Just like that?”

  He smiled. “If you’re looking for faults within me, I’m happy to share them. There are many. What you won’t find is a jealous brute who will drag you off by your hair and ravish you.”

  Her pulse picked up. “I thought women enjoyed a good ravishing, every now and again.”

  Heat filled his gaze again. “Your wish is my command, my lady. Say the word.”

  “You’re a rake,” she accused, but with a smile. He was absolutely incorrigible. Sam would probably adore him. Mira waved a hand at him and strode toward the infirmary.

  “Mira?” Raziel called softly.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “The more you forget to eat, the more I’ll arrive with food.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  He stood from the log. “Care for yourself, or I will take it upon myself.”

  It kind of sounded like a threat, but she thought he meant it as a promise. Mira shook her head at his antics but couldn’t keep the silly smile off of her face.

  Princes. They were way too charming for their own good.

  Twenty-Seven

  Tehl

  It was all set.

  He wanted to break something.

  Tehl paced outside their tent, his gaze darting toward the entrance every time he made another agitated pass. Night had fallen and, with it, a snowstorm. He scowled at the heavy snowfall. While it would make for the perfect cover, it also meant his time with his wife was up. She needed to make her move tonight.

  He passed the entrance again. This shouldn’t be the only way. No matter how many times he tried to come up with a better plan, there was nothing. Tehl trusted Sage. He didn’t trust their enemy. The warlord corrupted everything he touched. The image of the warlord’s hands on Sage’s skin popped into his mind unbidden. His lip curled, and he kicked a stone that he’d uncovered with his pacing.

  You’re being a coward. Get inside and help her prepare.

  Female voices murmured inside the tent, too faint for him to pick out.

  Tehl paused and stared at the tent flap, ignoring the Methian warriors watching him. He rolled his neck and pushed through the entrance. The war room was empty. Most likely, all who were on the council were finishing up their last-minute tasks before they attacked tonight.

  Stars help them be successful.

  Pushing the flap back to his and Sage’s quarters, he halted at the sight that greeted him. Sage stood with her back to him, wearing dyed cream leather and white fur, the Methian queen quietly speaking with her. She looked like an angelic warrior, sent to collect souls. He’d have given his soul to her in that moment if she’d asked for it.

  Queen Osir glanced between them and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek. “You’re unbreakable. Good luck.” She moved past Tehl and squeezed his arm once before leaving the room.

  Sage slowly faced him, her green eyes dark in the low lamp light. Would this be the last time he ever saw her?

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered. “Or else I won’t be able to do what I must.”

  “How am I looking at you?”

  Her chin quivered. “Like you can’t bear to part. Like you’re as scared as I am.”

  In two steps, he had her in his arms. Sage melted against him, her cheek pressed to his chest. He licked his lips. “What if we were to run away?”

  She chuckled. “What a wonderful fairy story. Where would we go?”

  Tehl ran his hand down the thick plait of her braid, trying to memorize the feel of her. “To the desert, to explore for treasures and lost secrets. Then, we’d bathe in the sea and make love until the stars were envious of us.”

  “What pretty words, husband. Who knew you were such a poet?”

  He smiled at her teasing. “I can become anything for my lady.”

  Sage pulled back slightly and tipped her head back. “You are and always will be my lodestone.”

  Cupping her cheeks, he slid his calloused fingers along her silky skin. “If you’ve changed your mind…”

  “I haven’t.” Her smile was bittersweet. “It’s the right decision
.”

  It was the wrong decision, but the only chance they had. Waiting on Blair’s troops wasn’t a real option. “When this is over, we’re taking a proper honeymoon.”

  The love of his life grinned. “Will it involve secrets, treasure, and naked, writhing bodies?”

  Tehl hid his smile at her cheekiness. “If it pleases you.”

  “Rest would please me. I’m bloody tired. I would settle for a full night of sleep with you next to me.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? “We’ll not leave bed for a fortnight when this is through. Rest and play.”

  Her breath hitched, and he gave her a smile Sam would have been proud of. Anything to lighten the heaviness that threatened to drown them. He didn’t want to say goodbye. Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink when he pulled her tighter against him.

  Tehl brushed an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. The lovely locks were always escaping their confinements. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and engulfed her in the tightest hug he could muster. She squeaked and threw her arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, he drew her cinnamon scent into his senses. She smelled like home, like pure, unadulterated ambrosia.

  Gritting his teeth, he fought the urge to tumble her back onto the bed one last time. To imprint her into his memory, to erase any fear she was hiding from him. She tipped her head to the side, baring her neck. Tehl surrendered to the urge to rub his cheek along her neck. Her fingers dug into the back of his scalp as he pressed a hot kiss to the skin, roughened by his whiskers.

  Playing his lips over hers in the barest hint of a kiss, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “I love you.”

  Sage grabbed his head and laced her fingers in his waves. With a small cry, she crushed her mouth to his. He let out a muffled sound of surprise and slid his lips against her velvety ones, desperate to taste her. A whimper escaped her throat, and his brain ceased to care about anything around them. His only focus was the fiery woman in his arms. His tongue slid past her lips, delving into her mouth to dance over her teeth and duel with her tongue. Sage melted into him, letting him take want he wanted.

  After too short a time, Tehl gentled the kiss and left butterfly-soft caresses over every bit of her face. His wife sighed and owlishly blinked up at him. A sense of smug masculine pride filled him at the well-loved expression on Sage’s face.

  “It’s time, love.”

  Sage nodded, her happiness sloughing off, steel and determination replacing it. “Don’t do anything foolish while I am gone.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She slipped her hand into his and gazed around their small chamber. “I’ll miss sleeping beside you.”

  He nodded. “Do you have everything you need?” Tehl frowned when he didn’t spot the poison ring hanging from the chain at her neck. “Where is the ring?”

  A devious look crossed her face. She turned her back to him and lifted the heavy fall of her hair. Plaited into the underside of her braid was the ring. Sage dropped her hair and faced him once again.

  “I’ll be stripped of all my weapons immediately. This is the safest place for it.”

  “He won’t touch…” Tehl glanced away, his jaw working. He loved playing with her hair, and the image of the warlord doing the same made him sick.

  Sage brushed her fingertips along his jawline. “He won’t be laying hands on me, my love. Not unless he wants another wound to go with the one I gave him last week.”

  He shoved his anger and jealousy down deep. “If he touches you, cut off his hand.”

  She flashed him a bloodthirsty smile. “It is my deepest hope that he tries.”

  Voices neared their tent, and he knew their time for goodbyes was up. Tehl placed one last lingering kiss on her lips. “To the end, love?”

  “To the end.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Jasmine

  “You can’t go on like this!” Mekhl growled.

  Jasmine didn’t spare him a glance, just kept staring out the window at the sea. The waters churned, just like her mind. Out of the three Scythian warriors she’d been forced to live with, he was the hothead. It was best not to engage him when he was in one of his moods. A self-deprecating smile tugged at her lips. Time away from Scythia had not made her forget what they were like. Even if she wanted to.

  “Phoenix, will you reason with her?” Mekhl demanded.

  “Leave her alone,” Phoenix rumbled.

  Mekhl cursed, and a door slammed.

  “Are you done torturing us?”

  Jasmine snorted. “You’re the ones holding me captive.”

  “We mean you no harm, as we’ve said over and over.”

  That got under her skin. She turned toward the largest of the Scythian warriors. His cinnamon gaze held her blue gaze.

  “No harm?” Her words were a whispered accusation. He didn’t flinch or look sorry in the least. “You know what you’ve done.” Movement fluttered in her belly, and her hands dropped to her stomach. Phoenix’s attention lowered to her abdomen, and his stern expression softened. “No,” she hissed, stabbing a finger in his direction. “You do not get to look at me like that.”

  “You’re a miracle.”

  It wasn’t the first time Jas had heard the sentiment. It still changed nothing.

  She turned away from him and stared out the window, her emotions on a thread. For the first few weeks, she’d screamed and fought against them. Once they’d gotten her on the ship, there was nowhere to go. While she prided herself on being a great swimmer, there was no way she could get past the leviathans that circled constantly. The sky was heavy with black, grey, and green clouds. A storm was brewing.

  Her stomach lurched. Jasmine inhaled deeply through her nose. Her nausea was so much worse on the ship. The babe rolled again. She’d been doing that more often. Her fingers drifted over the big bump. At this point, Jasmine thought she would explode if the babe got any bigger. She’d been trying to put it from her mind, but her birthing time wasn’t too far away. Would the babe be born here? Stars above, she hoped not.

  “I don’t wish to fight with you,” Phoenix murmured.

  “Then don’t. Release me.”

  “I can’t do that. Do you understand what that babe means to us?”

  “Enough that you raped an unconscious woman,” she snapped, facing Phoenix, her skirts swishing around her ankles. Phoenix’s jaw clenched, but that was the only sign that she’d gotten to him.

  “I don’t think you understand how much danger you were in.”

  “Danger from you, you mean?” she retorted.

  Phoenix stiffened and took one step toward her, pushing away from the bookcase. “I’m done tiptoeing around you. Orion is too soft, to tell you the truth, and you rile Mekhl up too much for him to think clearly, so I’ll be the one to come out with it: you were given to us, as a war prize, as a gift for our service.” His lip curled. “But that gift had strings.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Jasmine spat. “Depraved.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  She blinked. That was not what she expected him to say. “That does not excuse—”

  “I’m not finished,” he cut in. “You’ve screamed abuses at us for weeks, and, not once, have you thought to hear what we needed to say. You will now. The only reason the warlord kept you alive was because you were a means to an end.”

  Jasmine felt off-kilter. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. She placed her right hand on the back of a wingback chair to steady herself.

  “You were just another way to control his consort and to control us.”

  “Control you?”

  He nodded. “On one of your ventures, Orion made a mistake. He trusted the wrong person, and I was summoned.” His jaw flexed. “If we didn’t follow the law, you would have been given to brutal, heinous warriors. The warlord would have torn you away. You would have died in Scythia with no one the wiser. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

  “So you drugged me a
nd stole my innocence?” God, she was going to be sick.

  “We protected you when no one else would have.”

  “Protection?” Tears flooded her eyes. “You’re despicable. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You stole something that I can’t ever get back!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Tears dripped down her cheeks. “That changes nothing.”

  “There wasn’t any pleasure in it. I had to drink herbs just to accomplish the task.”

  “That’s supposed to comfort me? That you didn’t take pleasure in my unconscious body?” she scoffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  Phoenix held her gaze. “Would you have said yes?”

  She wouldn’t have.

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought. What we did was wrong, and we can’t ever take it back. I wish things hadn’t happened like they did. All I’ve ever wanted was a wife and children, but the warlord tainted that.”

  “I’m not your wife.”

  “No, but you are the mother of my child, and I intend to protect you until my dying breath. Keep on believing I am evil, I can bear that for my follies and sins. But I can’t change the past, and I don’t regret that you’re safe and unhurt, out of that demon’s grasp. We’re all a product of his brutality and madness.”

  “Those are traitorous words, if I’ve ever heard them,” she whispered. “Better be careful or you might be executed.”

  “I take the risk so you know my true feelings. Orion, Mekhl, and I were raised with women from the Pit who were taken as consorts. They suffered at the hands of our fathers. We never desired that for any woman. It’s wrong. It needs to change.”

  “And yet you fight for him.”

  “For now.”

  Her eyes widened. What did that mean? “A few good acts don’t negate the vile ones you’ve committed.”

  “True, but it doesn’t mean nothing either.” He blew out a breath and threw his shoulders back. “I’m getting off track. Your pain is ours. There are no words to express how sorry I am for the state of things. I wanted to let you know that Orion, Mekhl, and I have vowed to never touch you again. You need not fear us.”

 

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