“Talon?” My voice was weak with the heavy vibe of fear that Talon’s stare had given me.
I couldn’t do it. I shook off the anxiety that was trying to take hold of me, like a wet dog, and grabbed the sopping tablecloth from where it still lay in the basket by our feet. In one smooth movement, I threw it over Talon’s head, the wet fabric covering him with a loud smack.
It did the trick. He howled and pulled the cold thing off him.
“Let’s go, Talon,” I said, before he could get angry with me.
His jaw hung heavily for a moment before his brain clicked back into place, reminding him of what had happened before I hit him with a wet tablecloth. That was the problem with being married to such a big guy; sometimes their brains moved a bit too slowly.
Talon nodded and put the tablecloth in the basket, only to freeze at the sight of something over my shoulder.
“What are you two doing here?” Ovailia spat with as much icy venom as she possibly could. I whipped around to see her standing before us, her feet moving back and forth as if she was walking in place, her long arms folded over her slender torso. I instantly moved back into Talon, content to let him take the lead and thankful when he squared his shoulders defiantly against her.
I guess that was the one good thing about growing up with Ovailia; he was used to her. When you can think of someone as a tantrum-throwing toddler with a stinky diaper, their fits as an adult don’t truly bother you.
“That is no longer your concern, Ovailia,” Talon said simply, his voice making it clear he didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
“What?” Ovailia said, her voice airy with surprise. Why she was surprised, I had no idea. I had always assumed it would take pigs standing and walking on their hind legs to surprise her.
“I do not need to remind you of Ilyan’s proclamation regarding who is acting in his stead, do I?” Talon wrapped his arm around me, pressing my shoulder into him.
“No, I remember quite well,” she said snottily, the airy confusion in her voice gone now.
I stared at Ovailia intently, the nerves in my spine jumping sporadically. Something about the way Ovailia shifted her feet was freaking me out. Her whole body was screaming, liar! Run! I couldn’t tear my eyes from the icy blue of hers and the way her lips curled in warning.
“Speaking of Ilyan,” Ovailia asked, her voice hesitant, “how is my dear brother?”
“Wonderful,” Talon said, his voice pinched.
Ovailia smiled but said nothing. Talon began to lead me out of the large room, the basket perched on his hip.
“Oh and Wynifred,” Ovailia sneered the moment we had passed her, “I wouldn’t go poking around in corners if I were you.”
“Is that a threat?” I hissed, my body pulling away from Talon as my magic surged angrily.
“Of course.”
I wanted to lunge at her, but let Talon’s strong arm around my waist serve as a warning. I let him drag me out of the roughly carved chamber and into the smooth stone halls that would take us to our room. I didn’t feel comfortable just leaving her there, but something in Talon’s body language begged me to.
So I complied, choosing instead to stick my tongue out at the stone wall that stood between us.
Yes, sometimes I was just that childish.
Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) Page 36