And despite how I’d challenged him and his somewhat annoying and surprising restraint, this…this coming to an end was okay. It was the wise thing because forgetting the way he kissed, the pleasure he’d given me, and how I felt now would be hard enough. Anything more would be impossible.
His lips tugged slowly on mine, leaving me in a pleasant haze as his head lifted. I opened my eyes, finding him scanning the elms.
It took a moment for concern to reach me. “Do you hear something?”
“Nothing like before.” He looked at me as he slid his hand down my leg and then away. “If I stayed, I think I’d find myself obsessed with trying to count just how many freckles you have.”
What he said…it tugged at my heart, and I inhaled sharply. I did not need to feel that.
“But I need to go.”
Forcing my grip on his shoulders to loosen and unsure of how my hands had even gotten there, I nodded.
“I should’ve left already,” he added. “I didn’t expect to linger tonight.”
I ignored the burn of disappointment I felt in the pit of my stomach. “I think tonight was…entirely unexpected.”
“I can agree with that,” he replied and touched my cheek. The act surprised me. Catching a curl, he tugged it straight and then slowly wrapped it around his finger. He stared at the strand of hair, smoothing his thumb over it. “Will you be heading home now to a bed far more comfortable than a forest floor?”
I nodded.
But he didn’t move from atop me, his weight still pleasant in an intoxicating sort of way. While he appeared momentarily engrossed in my hair, I took the opportunity. Seized it, actually. I swept my gaze over his brow and the proud line of his nose, the angular height of his cheekbones, and those shockingly soft lips. I took in the cut of his jaw and the faint scar in his chin. I committed those details to memory as I had the feel of his flesh against mine and how my lips still tingled from the touch of his.
I blew out a soft breath. “If you’re to leave, you will need to let go of my hair.”
“True,” he murmured, easing his finger from the twist. He didn’t let the hair fall. Instead, he swept it back behind my ear with a gentleness I decided I also could not remember.
He dipped his head then, kissing the center of my forehead, and that was another thing I would make sure to forget. Then, Ash rose with the same grace he had when he’d faced those creatures.
I sat up quickly, making sure the slip covered all the unmentionables as best as it could. I kept stealing glances, my gaze wandering low to where I swore I could still see the hard ridge of his arousal. He was silent, then donned his shirt. Moonlight glinted off the silver band around his biceps as he set about pulling on his boots. The last thing he picked up was the scabbard and sword.
Ash faced me then, and his stare… I could feel it as if it were a physical touch along my cheek, on my breasts, and then down the length of a bare leg. A heat followed that stare, one I had a sinking suspicion would taunt me during sleepless nights.
He looked out into the woods again. “Don’t wait too long to return,” he advised.
My brows rose as I tamped down whatever antagonistic thing surely sharpened my tongue. I didn’t know if his order came from a place of assumed authority or one of concern, and neither was something I was accustomed to. It wasn’t often that anyone told me what to do outside of being shooed away, especially these last three years.
He stepped toward me and then stopped, his hair falling to rest against his cheek and his jaw, brushing his shoulder. “I…” He seemed to struggle with how to continue.
“It was nice talking with you,” I said, speaking the honest to gods truth. Ash went completely silent and still, and my cheeks heated. “Even though you did spy upon me,” I added quickly. “Most inappropriately.”
A faint smile appeared. No hint of teeth, but his features warmed. “It was nice talking to you. Truly,” he said, and my silly heart skipped around in my chest. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” I managed.
Ash remained there for a moment before turning, his steps barely making a sound as he walked away. My smile faded a little as I watched him go until I could no longer see him in the dense shadows. There was a strange ache in my chest. A sense of loss that had nothing to do with where the kisses had or hadn’t led, nor even the absence of contact. It felt like meeting a friend and then immediately losing them. That was what it really felt like. What we’d talked about seemed like things one only shared with friends. The other stuff…well, I didn’t think friends shared that.
But it was a loss of some sort because I didn’t think I would see him again. That if he still watched, I would be as unaware as I’d been before. That maybe he realized that this had already gone too far. I thought this because he’d never asked for a name.
I was still a stranger to him.
I shook my head and rose to my feet, finding my gown in the moonlight. Pulling it on, I heard a sound that had been strangely absent.
The birds.
They called out to one another, singing their songs as life stirred once more in the woods.
Chapter 14
“There was a riot last night in Croft’s Cross. It started as a protest against the Crown and what little was being done to stop the Rot, but the guards turned it into a riot by the way they responded.” Sitting at the foot of my bed, Ezra dragged a hand down her face. She’d shown a little bit after breakfast was served, looking as if she had gotten even less sleep than I had. Shadows smudged the skin under her eyes. “Six were killed. Far less than anticipated—as terrible as that sounds. But many were injured. Fire destroyed a few homes and businesses. Some claiming that the guards set them.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Absently twisting my hair into a thick rope, I sank farther into the faded emerald cushions of the chair placed before the window. The view overlooked the Dark Elms, a place that seemed like a different world now. “Let me guess, the guards were acting on the Crown’s orders?”
“They were,” she noted, falling silent as she looked around my bedchamber. Her gaze drifted over the narrow wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture other than the chair I sat in, the bed, and the chest at the footboard. Books formed leaning towers against the wall since there were no shelves to display them. I had no trinkets or serving trollies, paintings of Maia, the Primal of Love, Beauty, and Fertility. Or Keella. Or lush settees providing ample seating. It was nothing like her or Tavius’s chambers. It used to get to me—the differences—even when I was the Maiden. Now, I was just used to it.
“But it’s not like they have no sense of autonomy or control over their actions,” Ezra continued. “There were other ways they could’ve handled the issue.”
This wasn’t the first protest to turn violent. Mostly, it was the response that always escalated the issue. Sometimes, it was the people, but I couldn’t fault them when it was clear they felt that peaceful demonstrations weren’t capturing the Crown’s attention, and when too many of their family members and friends were jobless and starving.
“The guards could’ve handled it differently.” I watched the tops of the elms sway. Somewhere beyond those trees, the lake waited. My stomach twisted. Even thinking of it felt different now, and I wasn’t sure if that foretold something good or bad or nothing at all. “But I don’t think they care enough to try to deescalate the situation, and they probably did set the fire as a form of punishment or to somehow make the protestors appear as if they were in the wrong.”
“Unfortunately, I have to agree.” She paused. “I’m surprised you weren’t already aware of what happened or not in the thick of things.”
There was a strange catch in the next breath I took, and I twisted my hair even tighter. Two luminous silver eyes formed in my mind. I felt another twisting motion, this time lower in my belly. How could I explain what I’d been doing last night? Or even speak about it when my mind immediately made its way to how Ash’s skin had felt against mine. How his lips had felt, his fingers…
Show me.
I cleared my throat. “I was at the lake and lost track of time,” I offered up the lame half-lie. If I told her anything about last night, even the less-intimate details, she’d understandably have questions. I would, but I…I just didn’t want to talk about Ash or anything he’d shared with me. Everything felt too unreal. As if I started talking about it, tiny holes would appear, fracturing the whole memory.
I let go of my hair. “Did the Crown or its heir ever go out and check on their people last night? Try to assuage them? Listen to their concerns?”
Ezra’s laugh was dry. “Is that a serious question?” She shook her head as she fiddled with the lace along the collar of her pale blue gown. “Tavius was holed up in his room. Still is, having taken breakfast there. And the King plans to address the people at some point, to assure them that everything that can be, is being done.”
“How very timely of him.”
Ezra snorted.
I let my cheek rest against the back of the chair and studied my stepsister, focusing on the shadows under her eyes. Without her saying as much, I knew she’d been out there last night with the people, helping however she could. Just like she went out there, day after day. “You should be the heir,” I told her. “You would be a far better ruler than Tavius.”
She raised her brows. “That’s because anyone would be a better ruler than Tavius.”
“True,” I said softly. “But you would be a better ruler because you actually care about the people.”
Ezra smiled a little. “You care.”
How could I not, when the things happening to the people had been my destiny to stop? I bit back a sigh. “You know what will happen as the Rot continues to spread. How do you think Tavius will handle that?”
The curve of her lips faded. “We can only hope that day doesn’t come soon, or that he marries someone far more…” She frowned as she searched for the right word.
A kinder word than what came out of my mouth. “Far more intelligent? Compassionate? Empathetic? Brave? Caring—?”
“Yes, all of those things.” She laughed as her gaze swept over me. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah?” My brows furrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know.” She continued staring. “You just seem…off. Call it familial intuition.”
Familial? Sometimes, I forgot that we were family. I resisted the urge to squirm in my chair. “I think your familial intuition is a bit rusty.”
“Maybe.” She sat back, the curve returning to her lips, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I was going to head to Croft’s Cross to see how the repairs were going on some of the damaged businesses and homes, and then check in with the Healers to see if they needed assistance dealing with the injured. Care to join me?”
The fact that she’d asked warmed me. “Thank you,” I said, unfolding my legs from the chair. “But I was going to see if there were any leftovers in the kitchen and check in on the Coupers. I know both Penn and Amarys have been trying to find work since their lands are completely wasted now.”
Ezra nodded slowly. “You know what I think?” she asked. “You are the Queen the people of Lasania need.”
I laughed deeply and loudly, even though her voice had been as solemn as ever. That was something that could never and would never happen. I was still chuckling over that after Ezra left and I donned a plain brown skirt and a white blouse made of a thin cotton lawn. I could tell the heat would be brutal today, and even I didn’t want to be wearing pants. Quickly braiding my hair, I sheathed a small knife with a wicked, serrated blade inside my boot and the iron blade to my thigh, then made my way to the west tower. The morning sun struggled to penetrate the tower as I navigated the sometimes-slippery steps to the floors below. I stepped out into one of the less-traveled halls. It had become a habit to move about in the empty corridors. There was less chance of becoming the focal point of curious stares from new servants who were not yet sure of who I was, and easier to avoid the way older servants who behaved as they’d been taught—to act as if they didn’t even see me. As if I truly were nothing more than a lost spirit.
The lingering scent of fried meat permeated the air as I entered the kitchens. Servants fluttered between the workstations, either cleaning or prepping for later today. I veered to my right, toward the mountain of a man who was hacking away at a slab of beef as if it had delivered a vicious insult to him and the entirety of his bloodline.
Which meant, he barely tolerated me.
“Do you have anything for me?” I asked.
“Nothin’ that would be fit for even the hungriest of mouths,” Orlano replied gruffly, not even pausing in his swing.
I glanced around, eyes narrowing on the baskets of potatoes and greens stacked near the bushels of apples. “You sure about that?”
“All of what I know you be eyein’ is for tonight. Some fancy guests are expected.” His cleaver came down with a wet whack. “So no runnin’ off with any of that. Those needy mouths will have to fend for themselves.”
“They do fend for themselves,” I grumbled, wondering what guests were coming. It took me a moment to remember that there was an upcoming Rite. “And they’re still needy.”
“Ain’t my problem.” He wiped a hand across the front of his apron. “Ain’t your problem.”
“You sure about that?” I winced as the strips of beef he tossed into a bowl landed with a wet smack. “Maybe it’s the King and Queen’s problem.”
His cleaver froze mid-air as he turned his head toward me. His dark eyes narrowed under graying brows. “Don’t you be sayin’ stuff like that around me when even these damn pots and pans have eyes and ears. Not like I’m not disposable.”
I could never tell if Orlano suspected who I was, but sometimes, like now, I thought he just might know that I was the failed Chosen and the Princess. “King Ernald loves your pastries and how you cook the roast,” I told him. “You are probably the least disposable person in this entire castle, including the Queen.”
Pride filled his eyes, even though he huffed. “Go on and get outta here. I need those gals back there peelin’ apples instead of starin’ at you and prayin’.”
The corners of my lips turned down as I looked over to the bushels. Two younger servants in white blouses starched to the point where they could stand on their own, watched the cook and me nervously. The peelers in their hands were motionless, unlike their lips. Huh. They really did look like they were praying. The gods only knew what kind of rumor they’d heard that had led to this.
“All right.” I pushed off the counter.
“There’s some bruised apples and potatoes that are close to goin’ bad by the ovens.” Orlano returned to the hunk of meat. “You can have ‘em.”
“You’re the best, you know that?” I said. “Thank you.”
His face flamed red. “Get outta here.”
Laughing under my breath, I scooted around him. I quickly transferred the food into one burlap sack and then made my way toward the large, rounded doorways. I made sure to hurry past the bushels and the two servants.
My steps slowed as I looked over at them. “Be careful how hard you pray. A god or a Primal just might answer.”
One of them dropped their peeler.
“Girl!” Orlano shouted.
Sending the two females a wink, I got my butt out of the kitchen before Orlano tossed me out of it. The good mood didn’t last long when I made my way out into the early morning sun and saw the activity at the stables.
Damn.
Nobles from districts outside of Carsodonia had already begun arriving for the Rite, their carriages a sea of familial shields. The last thing the Crown needed to be doing was feeding families from all over the kingdom who had no problem feeding themselves.
This wouldn’t go over well with the people.
All the food that would be prepared over the next several days could go to those who needed it. But then the Crown wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretens
e of stability—one that was cracking and showing signs of breaking. No number of fancy gowns or elaborate feasts could hide that.
I climbed the dusty hill, the sack of apples and potatoes an unnaturally heavy burden in my arms, even though there was less than half left. The lack of sleep made each step feel like twenty, but still, despite everything, I grinned a little as the large oaks lining the dirt road blocked the glare of the morning sun.
Last night felt surreal, like a fevered dream, which seemed more plausible than spending a few hours beside the lake, speaking with a Shadowlands god—being touched by one. Pleasured by one.
Sweat dotted my brow as I reached up, tugging the hood of my blouse farther to shield my face from the sun. Ash. Warmth pooled low in my stomach. Thinking about his kisses, his touch, did very little to cool my already overheated skin, but it was far better than dwelling on the state of the kingdom or any of the other numerous things I could do nothing to change. Doing that only made me feel useless and guilty. But those kisses, the way he touched me, and what he said? They made me feel exhilarated and wanton and a dozen other different, maddening things. And there wasn’t even a hint of regret. I’d enjoyed myself…thoroughly, and I’d unexpectedly created a wealth of memories that would stay with me for however long.
There was a twinge of sadness, though, because it was over. And with each passing day that came, I knew those memories wouldn’t be as vivid and clear. They would become just like a faded dream. But I didn’t let it take hold. If I did, it would taint the memories, and I refused to allow that to happen. There were too few good ones as it was.
What Ash had said about not having a lot of experience when it came to debauchery returned for me to obsess over, which I’d already done a decent amount of. Could he have really been insinuating that he didn’t have a lot or any experience when it came to intimacy? That seemed impossible. He was a god who was probably, at the very least, several hundred years old. And he seemed awfully good at kissing and touching for someone who didn’t. But…
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