by Delia Roan
As she stripped off her gown, Jenna sighed. Her mind drifted back to Kovos. While she relaxed in her chambers, Kovos faced the Council. If she could lighten his load by ensuring the concert went well, then she would take the opportunity. Anything to lift the weariness from his face.
Anything to make him smile.
Cyndrae bustled in, her arms full of towels and clothes. “I have been thinking of talking to the craftsmen to build a smaller version of the troeben. It may not be ready before the concert, but it would serve you well in the future.”
Jenna smiled. At least I won’t have to do it alone.
CHAPTER TEN
KOVOS
Five days ago, Kovos would not have thought he would be forced to sit through so many council meetings. Yet, five days ago, Jenna arrived and shook his plans like a lohig with prey. That meant the Council each received time to discuss their opinion on Kovos’s broken engagement.
Or at least that is what they should be doing.
Every council member chose to use their time to list grievances against each other. Lord Urtha claimed Lord Marug sent a spy drone to his young wife’s chambers. Lord Marug took umbrage to such a falsehood. In fact, it was Lord Urtha’s own children who picnicked upon Lord Marug’s lands.
They bicker like children.
Kovos suppressed a groan.
Beside him, Arthon sank further into his seat, and behind the arguing lords, Kovos saw the glazed expressions of the other council members. Some dozed outright, their heads lolling, and their mouths agape. They could afford to seem lax. Their honor was not on the line.
Mine is.
With Jenna’s appearance, Kovos had shown himself to be a man who went back on his word. If she was his Avowed, he should never have offered to marry another. A lack of honor was the kind of thing that sent Ennoi nobility to the front lines of war with a death wish. Better to die in battle than return in shame.
Those were Father’s words.
The prickling in his skin would not ease up. Kovos wanted to throw a chair, break a window, and stomp every wildflower from Lord Marug’s lands. Yet Kovos kept his face neutral and his posture alert, even as he rubbed his aching jaw. He hoped the gesture seemed pensive.
It’s these damn chairs.
His mother chose the most uncomfortable material possible in order to hasten council decisions, and still the proceedings dragged. He shot a glance at Lithyon. To his consternation, she sat as if enthralled by the two gabbing clan leaders. She frowned when warranted, and nodded when appropriate. Every now and then, she asked a thoughtful question or clarified a point.
The halls of council were Lithyon’s natural habitat. She thrived in situations where she could counsel others. As a child, Kovos had often called her bossy, and other less flattering names, but he had to admit when it came to the Council, Lithyon was an unstoppable force of nature. She could weave the same spell as his father: one which made the listener feel important, and that she cared. Lithyon played the politics game with ruthless efficiency.
And that’s why I should marry her.
Kovos frowned at the intrusive thought. His father again. However, he couldn’t logically argue with the sentiment. She would be an asset in solidifying the peace treaties. Even now, with a few murmured platitudes, she was getting Lord Urtha to agree that Lord Marug had an undeniable right to protect his lands.
Instead, Kovos was on his own, trying to muster up a show of caring. It wasn’t just the council’s eyes on him today, but also Arthon’s. He couldn’t let his younger brother know Kovos was bored to the edge of tears.
Mother would never let me live it down.
When the session concluded, Kovos rose to his feet, rolled out his tense shoulders and stretched out his aching back.
Yaldir must’ve heard him grunt, because he smirked. “Feeling your age, my lord?” He remained standing to attention and kept his voice low.
“Don’t be audacious, Yaldir.” Kovos raised an eyebrow in warning.
At his words, Yaldir’s face remained blank, but his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Ah,” he replied, “I have the advantage of youth and height, but I would not dare to affront you, my lord.”
“When you reach my venerable years, your body will fail you as well.” Kovos grinned. Yaldir was only a half season younger. “But bring up the height discrepancy again, and I’ll make you walk the sewers during the next heat wave.”
“Yes, my lord,” Yaldir replied, the corners of his lips twitching. “Still, I believed there were advantages to being the youngest brother and a lesser heir. Such as not having to attend council meetings.”
If Yaldir had been born the eldest, they might have been peers, but as the youngest royal son in his clan, Yaldir was merely expected to stay out of the way. A highborn honor guard was an appropriate and exemplary career path for a younger son.
“Trust me, Yaldir,” Arthon drawled from his seat, “I thought so too.”
Kovos clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You’re doing well, Arthon. Go find some food. I’ll see you this afternoon. Come, Yaldir.”
As they had every other day that week, Kovos and his guard walked to Jenna’s room. The first day, Jenna had been surprised to see Kovos at her door, but the following day, she waited for him. Their routine of picnicking in the garden was the only highlight in Kovos’s day.
When he was with her, the weight of his crown seemed to slip away. It didn’t matter what happened during the Council meeting. When he saw Jenna’s bright face, his hardships were eased. They never spoke of Council matters, but the trivial topics they covered always wound up revealing more of himself than he intended.
“What is the name of that bird?” became a long discussion on childhood memories. “What is your favorite food?” turned into a story of Cadam’s history, and Kovos’s hopes for its future.
She is easy to talk with. And easy to watch.
All he could do was watch. With the festival in full swing, the gardens were no longer private. Visiting dignitaries strolled through, eager for a glimpse of the human. As word of Jenna’s presence spread, it seemed the garden became more crowded by the day.
The stares never bothered Jenna. She was content to stare back, taking in the gowns and jewels, the hairstyles and mannerisms of the people who came to gawk at her like visitors to the royal zoo.
It also meant he couldn’t touch her with strange eyes looking on.
It is enough to drive a man to madness.
However, he would take what he could get, even if all he could get was an hour over a meal. The insomnia still plagued him, but he couldn’t bring himself to visit her at night again. No, he was channeling his personal frustrations into his relationship with Jenna, making her something he knew she was not. That was not fair to Jenna, not when she would be leaving shortly.
I’m doing what is best.
Kovos rapped on her door.
To his surprise, it wasn’t Jenna who answered, but the maid. When she saw him, she dipped into a deep curtsy, pulling aside the soft green and blue of her gown.
“Lord Kovos,” she said.
“Err, Cyndrae, is it? Lady Lithyon’s woman?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Is Jenna available?”
“I’m sorry, my lord, but she bathes at the moment.”
Kovos had a vision of Jenna’s body in the bathtub. Desire flooded him. He wanted to shove the maid aside, stride into the bathing chamber and join Jenna in the soapy water. He wanted to scrub every inch of her clean, and then carry her to bed and get her dirty all over again.
That is what would be best.
His pants tightened.
“Is something the matter, my lord?” Cyndrae’s face was creased with concern. “You appear unwell.”
Kovos coughed, and forced the visions away. He was grateful for the long council robes he still wore. “I am fine. I shall wait for Jenna then. In the hallway.”
“Is that Kovos?
” Jenna’s voice carried from the other room. “Oh, gosh! Tell him to wait! I’ll be right there.”
Cyndrae bowed her head. “Lady Jenna says…”
She didn’t get a chance to finish, because Jenna pushed her way to the door, wrapping a bath sheet around her body. Her hair hung in wet tendrils around her face, and curled across her bare shoulders and the mounds of her breasts. Soft, supple flesh. He remembered the feel of her skin under his fingers.
Kovos dragged his eyes to her face.
“Thank you, Cyndrae,” she said, dismissing the maid. She turned back to Kovos and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I thought we would have time to squeeze in lunch, but I have rehearsals this afternoon. Before the concert. Please forgive me?”
“I…” His brain didn’t seem to want to engage. Take her! it roared. She is yours!
Then Kovos noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes. The sight silenced the clamoring of his libido. She was exhausted. Her thoughts were wrapped up in the upcoming concert, and he’d heard from her guards that she rehearsed at all hours of the day and night. His lips tightened, but his heart softened.
“No forgiveness necessary. The concert is important to you.”
Jenna smiled. “Thanks for understanding, Kovos.”
“You still need to eat, so I will send food to your room.” He reached out a hand and brushed a soggy curl from her cheek. “Do you have time to sleep a short while?”
“No time.” She stifled a yawn. “Too much to do.”
Kovos’s brain and libido came to an arrangement. “Pardon my intrusion.” Gently, but firmly, he pushed aside the door.
“Wha-”
Jenna scrambled back, pulling the bath sheet around herself. She looked so delicate it made his heart ache. He stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms.
“Wha-! Kovos!”
Barely anything to her.
“You are very much like a like a moonsong blossom.”
Jenna looked puzzled at the change in topic. “The flower from the garden?”
“Yes.”
She tilted her head. “There a reason you say that?”
Kovos smiled. “You are small and fragile, and you make me want to tend to you like a gardener.”
Jenna’s face pinkened, and Kovos felt a rush of pride in himself. He could affect her with his words, which meant he was learning how her mind worked.
“Now,” he continued, “this gardener must plant you in the environment in which you will thrive.”
With a couple of long-legged strides, he marched to her bed chamber and placed her on the sheets. With wide eyes, she scurried backward. Kovos frowned, and crossed the bed, grabbing her by the ankle.
“I mean you no harm,” he said. “You require sleep. This is the best place for sleeping.”
And other pastimes.
Jenna’s face reddened again, but the shy smile was gone. Instead her brows lowered, and the corners of her mouth twisted. “You can’t force me to sleep!” She tried kicking his hand away, but he kept his grip on her ankle.
With a sense of wonder, Kovos realized she was angry. The little moonsong had thorns. He thought of the way she clutched his knife, her resolute eyes. Even that night, she’d shown her strength. She might be quiet and small, but oh, she filled his warrior’s heart.
“I would never force anything upon you,” he said, removing her hand. “Please rest.”
She eyed him. “Only if you do, too. You look like shit.”
He laughed at that. “Agreed!”
With a swift yank, he pulled her back onto the bed, then rolled her over him, and tucked her into his arms.
Her shriek sent Cyndrae running into the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of Jenna and Kovos in bed, but her face remained impassive. “My lady? Do you require assistance?”
“She is all right, Cyndrae. You may leave.” Kovos waved a hand.
To his chagrin, it was as if he never spoke. Cyndrae merely repeated her question, but this time, the scales along her body rippled.
By the moon, she would fight me if Jenna asked. Kovos blinked.
“Err…” Jenna looked up at him. Her pale blue eyes held no fear, only annoyance. Then, her face softened. With a little sigh, she said, “Kovos and I will be napping for a while.” At his grin, she scowled. “A very short while. I have rehearsals.”
“As you wish, Lady Jenna.” Cyndrae bowed.
“Thank you, Cyndrae.” Jenna’s voice held more gratitude than customary.
Kovos settled into the soft pillows with a satisfied grunt. The dampness from Jenna’s hair soaked into his robes. The scent of her soap filled the air, making him giddy.
She shifted her head a few times, trying to get comfortable against his chest. Finally, her breath huffed out and her body relaxed. Kovos held Jenna, watching her face grow slack. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek, and her lower lip pouted.
Of course he wouldn’t nap. Rulers who had Council meetings all afternoon had no time to nap. But he had to admit, with his arms around Jenna’s soft body, his limbs did feel lethargic.
Perhaps I shall close my eyes for a brief moment.
Only a brief moment.
To rest my eyes.
For a moment.
Kovostad Ar’Cadam, clan prince of the Ennoi Cadam and chairman of the Ennoi Council, fell asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JENNA
Jenna awoke with a start. For a moment, she expected to see the walls of her room back on Earth, with the posters of theatrical events, and her guitar in the corner. She wasn’t lying on her patchwork quilt, but the soft, silky sheets of her bed on Cadam.
Or rather, she wasn’t lying on the soft silky sheets, but on Kovos’s broad chest. She peeked up at his face, but his eyes were shut, and his breathing steady and deep. Jenna’s face grew hot. She’d drooled on his fancy robes. The tiny gemstones adorning the fabric had dug into her cheek as she slept, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to move.
The arms wrapped around her were solid and comforting, even when asleep. She wriggled a hand loose and ran it along his forearm, enjoying the sparkle of the jewels against his sleeve. When she reached his cuff, she hesitated, then moved her hand onward, onto his skin.
The tiny scales on his wrist looked like snake scales, overlapping and washed in pale reds and faded blues. But unlike snake-skin, his skin burned warmer than a human’s. In fact, she felt heavy and limp in his arms. His heat melted away the tension and stress in her body, and for the first time all day, she gave into the serenity.
Beneath her, Kovos shifted, and his breath huffed out.
Jenna lifted her head, and her eyes met his.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.
His breath hitched, as Jenna’s hand stopped. Or maybe with something else.
Jenna smiled. “Good afternoon,” she corrected. “We’ve slept a long time.” She sat up and stretched. Only then did she realize that while she napped, the bath sheet had unwound itself from her body. Her cheeks burned as she gathered the fabric around herself.
“Did you sleep well?” Kovos’s voice was light, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made her heartbeat quicken.
“Yes,” she whispered. She couldn’t seem to look away from his black eyes. The dark swirls of light deep inside them held unspoken promises.
“Good,” he replied. His voice remained husky and low, but he didn’t move from his position on the bed. “I want you well rested.”
For what?
Before she could respond, the door opened, and Kovos sat up. Cyndrae strode in bearing a tray loaded with food. The scent of baked treats filled the room, and Jenna’s tummy grumbled.
Cyndrae placed the tray on the bed with a bow. “My lord, my lady,” she said. “Sustenance.”
“Is that crasma berry compote I smell?” Kovos sat up. He smeared a dollop of the berry jam on a flatbread and ate it with gusto.
&nbs
p; Jenna reached for one of the fruit rolls that were fast becoming her favorite snack food. “Bless you, Cyndrae. You’re amazing.”
Cyndrae bowed her head, but her voice sounded pleased when next she spoke. “You must eat quickly. The hour is late.”
Jenna’s mouth was full, but Kovos spoke. “How late?”
“The concert begins in at the next bell.”
Kovos filled the air with expletives as he swung to his feet. “I’ve missed the Council meeting!”
Jenna swallowed down the pastry. “Is that bad? I mean, you have them every single day. It’s just one meeting?”
Kovos straightened his robes. “It is not a catastrophe,” he responded. “But I must go now in order to meet my obligations.”
The pastry seemed to lose its appeal. “Do you have to?”
He was half-way to the door, but Kovos stopped and turned. He paused for a moment, and his eyes flicked over her from head to toe. Under his gaze, the hair on Jenna’s scalp tickled. There was hunger in his eyes, and Jenna knew it had nothing to do with the pastry in her hand or the crumbs on her lip.
Kovos strode to the bed, and laid his hand against her cheek. Jenna closed her eyes and leaned into his palm. With gentle fingers, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I must, moonsong. But I shall see you at the concert.”
Jenna threw herself back onto the bed as the door shut with a click. “The concert,” she muttered. “I forgot about that…”
“Well, I did not, my lady. While you slept, I made preparations.” Cyndrae seized Jenna’s hand and pulled her to a seated position. She narrowed her eyes at Jenna’s hair. “While you eat, I shall attempt to rectify your hair.”
A half-hour later, Jenna eyed her reflection in a mirror. She blinked against the brilliant shimmer of jewels as she turned slowly.
“I look like the Christmas tree in the mall. Just spray me in fake snow and I’ll attract tourists.” She tried to lift her hands to her hair. She grunted in frustration at her heavy sleeves. “I can barely move. Are you sure I need to wear this?”
Cyndrae made a noncommittal noise and placed another jewel in Jenna’s curls. “It is the traditional garb for a troeben concert. Now, we must be on our way.”