Jev almost said that he already planned to speak with Hydal, but maybe she would find something else in the library. It was possible the elf was hundreds of years old, had been to Kor before, and was written up in some old newspaper.
“Thank you,” Targyon told her. “Dismissed. Jev, wait a moment, please.”
If Zenia minded being dismissed while Jev was kept for something else, she didn’t show it. She strode out, flipping through her notepad, probably heading straight for the library.
Jev was eager to look for Hydal and also to try and catch up with Lornysh before he disappeared forever.
“Yes, Sire?”
Targyon clasped his hands behind his back and paced in front of his desk. “Am I doing the right thing, Jev? With getting involved? I don’t want these elven rogues to think they can blow things up in our city, but…”
“I don’t know, Sire. How much of your desire to help stems from your longing to read poetry to the princess? In bed?”
Targyon’s cheeks flushed, but he said, “It’s not only that. And I know that’s unlikely to happen, regardless. Our people would riot in the streets if we were seen holding hands, and her people… I’m sure her father doesn’t want some dirty human touching his daughter. I just want to do my best to mend our relationship with the Taziir. I know it’s early to hope that’s possible, but don’t I have to help if I can?”
“I’ll do my best to help you help, Targyon. I think Zenia already has some ideas.”
Targyon smiled faintly. “Yes. Good. Thank you.”
10
After spending three hours in the library, Zenia gathered the notes she’d scribbled about the Zsayon faction—unfortunately, she’d found nothing about Vornzylar specifically—and went searching for Jev. She checked his room first, since it was getting late, but he wasn’t there. An attentive page directed her to the gymnasium and baths in the basement of the castle. It was late, but a few thumps and grunts came from the large wrestling and boxing room. She wondered who Jev had found to spar with at this hour.
Gas lamps burned on the walls and posts of the spacious room, shedding enough light to reveal two bare-chested men trading punches on a mat. When Zenia recognized Jev as one of them, she started toward the pair, but she paused when she spotted Rhi leaning against the wall by the door, a towel draped over her shoulder.
“Training hard for our upcoming confrontation with a pack of elven wardens?” Zenia asked, though she didn’t see Rhi’s bo.
“Actually, I was on my way to take a bath, but if you’re not joking about that confrontation, maybe I should go throw sandbags around for another hour.” Rhi frowned at her.
“It may not be a joke, I’m afraid. Jev and I have to locate them first, but the king wants them booted out of Kor before they cause more trouble, He’s going to try to recruit Order mages with dragon tears to help.”
“Mages from which Order?” Rhi looked back toward the men as a flurry of smacks and thuds sounded.
“Whichever one will help, I imagine.” Zenia cocked her head. “Are you hoping to be invited to join in?”
“No, I heard their noise and came to see who was sparring so late. Now, I’m assessing them for hidden ferocity.”
Zenia realized Jev’s sparring partner was Hydal. He was more compact and wiry than Jev but more muscular than she would have guessed after seeing him in clothing. Though the bespectacled Hydal didn’t appear to be a natural athlete, he was holding his own on the mat. He darted in and out quickly, throwing tricky combination attacks before dancing out of reach.
Jev blocked the attacks with impressive speed, and Zenia caught herself watching him. She hadn’t seen him often with his shirt off, and her cheeks warmed as she remembered Iridium’s lair and the first time she’d seen him naked. The only time.
His muscular form hadn’t been slick with sweat then, damp skin gleaming under the yellow lamplight. He wasn’t pulling any punches, and she wondered if he was working out his frustrations from the week. She hadn’t had a chance to ask him how his meeting with his father—and his supposed fiancée—had gone. But she could guess that dealing with his father had left him annoyed. And dealing with the young woman? Zenia had no idea what she was like, but she had an urge to tug Jev off to a private corner and remind him that they were meant to be together. Maybe with a kiss that would leave them both breathless with longing. Or maybe with more than a kiss, so they wouldn’t be left longing for anything. She could put her vow to herself aside for Jev. He wouldn’t—
“He’s better than I expected,” Rhi commented.
Zenia jerked her gaze from Jev, embarrassed that she’d forgotten all about Rhi and had probably been licking her lips while she ogled Jev.
Fortunately, Rhi was watching Hydal and didn’t seem to have noticed.
“I admit I’d dismissed him, but maybe you were right,” Rhi said. “Maybe dating a man with substance would lead to a deeper and more meaningful relationship.”
“If you’re referring to the beads of moisture on his chest, that’s sweat, not substance.”
Rhi shot her a dirty look. “You’re the one who said he has depths. So what if he’s not as handsome as some? He might be more appreciative if a woman chose to spend time with him. More eager to please.”
“Are you looking for a man or a hound?”
“Don’t worry.” Rhi clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m sure Jev is eager to please too. All those years at war probably left him lonely and grateful for a female touch.”
Not wanting to discuss it—or the fact that she’d offered Jev scant few touches—Zenia looked down at the notebook she gripped and remembered she’d had a reason for coming down here.
“I need to talk to him about work,” she said and headed toward the men.
“Uh huh, sure you do. I’ll distract his friend so you two can work in private.” Rhi raised her voice. “Hydal, I need a hand in the bath. Are you busy?”
Zenia gawked at the brazen offer. She couldn’t imagine suggesting sex—and she could only assume that was what Rhi was doing—to a man she’d only spoken with twice.
Hydal stumbled back from Jev so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet. The quick grace he’d shown a moment before disappeared, and he lifted his fogged spectacles to squint in Rhi’s direction.
“Did you say…?” he started uncertainly and glanced toward Jev.
“Yes, but the offer isn’t open for long,” Rhi said. “If you’re not interested, I’ll find a castle steward to soap the parts I can’t reach.”
“Can we be done?” Hydal asked Jev.
“Did you tell me everything you know about Vornzylar?” Jev looked amused.
“Yes.”
“Then we can be done.”
“Good.” Hydal sprinted off the mat and toward Rhi. “I’m excellent with soap, Ms. Rhi Lin. My mother insisted on cleanliness when I was growing up.”
“Glad to hear it.” Rhi clasped his hand and led him into the corridor and toward the baths.
Zenia knew there was a public steam room and pool where both sexes could mingle before going to the segregated baths, but she’d never seen couples there engaging in soap sharing. It was late at night, so maybe they would have privacy.
“That’s an unexpected turn of events,” Jev said as Zenia walked up.
“Seeing a sweaty half-naked man being athletic and aggressive puts thoughts into Rhi’s mind.”
“Just Rhi’s?” Jev smiled at her, and she made herself hold his gaze, because otherwise her eyes would lower to his sweaty half-naked parts, and that would definitely distract her from her work. Not that his smile wasn’t distracting enough. And the warmth in his dark brown eyes.
“My mind needs to be focused on work. Until…” She spread her hand, not wanting to bring up his engagement and definitely not wanting him to think of the woman he’d met that day, but it was hard to forget those things existed. Even if she was sad she hadn’t kissed him far more often, she shouldn’t contemplate it while he was promi
sed to another.
“Of course,” he said, then looked away, disappointment replacing the warmth in his eyes.
She stepped closer, immediately regretting causing him disappointment and likely adding to his frustrations. The world was piling enough of those on him without her help. And she wanted to make him feel better, wanted to make him relax, to make him smile. Make him enjoy being with her, not dread it because she kept saying no to him.
“I am having thoughts,” she whispered, resting her hand on his side and letting her gaze drop to his chest, to the curvature of his pectoral muscles, the skin gleaming through his dusting of short hair. What would it be like to kiss his muscles? To let her tongue slip out and taste him?
“Oh?” He lifted a hand, touching the side of her face, then pushing his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head. They were warm and strong, his short nails grazing her scalp and eliciting a tingle that heated and tightened her entire body. “I suppose it would be inappropriate to act upon them.”
“Definitely.” She gave in to her urge and leaned down to kiss his chest. He tasted warm and salty, and she breathed in his masculine scent, surprised how much she enjoyed it, enjoyed him. She let her lips explore further, both for her own pleasure and because she longed to drive any thoughts of the woman he’d seen earlier out of his mind.
His fingers tightened, and his head fell back. His body tensed, his muscles hardening beneath her lips, but she sensed that it had to do with building desire rather than stress or tension.
“Let’s go to my room,” he whispered. “We can share our thoughts. I won’t—we don’t have to do anything that would break your vow to yourself.” He wrapped his other arm around her, his strong hand finding her back and kneading her through her dress.
Her notepad fell from her grip, but she barely noticed. She had decided when she’d almost lost Jev in that explosion in the harbor that she would trust him in a relationship. They would do their best to keep from conceiving a child, but if that happened, she knew he wouldn’t abandon it. Or her. He wasn’t the asshole her father was. He was an honorable man.
It was his father and all the people who wanted to manipulate him into the marriage they desired that bothered her now, the fact that he could be engaged against his wishes. She didn’t want him manipulated into anything. She wanted him to be his own man and free to choose. To choose her.
She slid both hands around to his back and over his muscles as she ran her lips up to his throat, kissing and nibbling the tendon there. She pressed her chest against his.
“Zenia,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. “I want to be with you.”
“Good,” she whispered and kissed him.
He seemed surprised, but he recovered instantly, pulling her tight against him and kissing her hard. She returned it eagerly, molding her body to his. In the back of her mind, she knew they should go to one of their rooms. Even though it was late, this was too public a place. As long as he was engaged, he shouldn’t be seen—
A startled gasp came from the doorway.
Zenia broke the kiss and glanced over, expecting a maid with a mop bucket and hoping she could be bribed not to spread any gossip. But it was a zyndari woman, one she unfortunately recognized. The wife of one of Targyon’s brothers, Dominqua. The week before, she’d stopped Zenia in the courtyard, irritated Zenia hadn’t kowtowed to her noble highness sufficiently. Maybe Zenia would get lucky, and the woman wouldn’t remember her. Just another commoner she’d stepped on recently…
But Dominqua’s lips curled into a smile. “Well, well, Captain Cham. I’d wondered how a common wench had gotten such a lofty position working for the king, but I suppose it should have been clear. I assume you screw Targyon too?”
“Mind your own business, Dominqua,” Jev growled, his arm tightening protectively around Zenia.
As much as she appreciated his arm and his protection, it might have been better if he’d pushed her away and pretended they had been in the middle of sparring. Though Zenia supposed the woman had seen too much to believe that.
“Jev, dear,” Dominqua said, giving him a long brazen look that included a deliberate study of his crotch. “I can’t blame you for falling prey to a woman’s wiles. She’s a beauty despite her inability to match shoes. I understand she’s manipulating you. But perhaps, if you were to join me in the baths tonight, I could be convinced to forget that I saw you about to shove the tramp up against a post.”
Hot anger rushed through Zenia, and she lunged away from Jev, wanting nothing more than to slam her fist into the woman.
“I’m sure your husband would prefer to be the one to help you in the baths,” Jev said, his tone icy instead of hot.
“He’s out late tonight, leaving me all alone.” Completely ignoring Zenia, Dominqua batted her eyelashes at Jev and touched her breasts.
“A shame.” Jev clasped Zenia’s hand, not commenting on the fact that it was balled into a fist, and nodded toward the exit. Maybe he meant to mow over Dominqua if she didn’t move out of the way so they could leave.
“If you don’t entertain me, I’ll be certain to let Zyndari Bludnor know you’ve been sleeping with this common filth.”
Zenia gritted her teeth, reminding herself that she would only end up making trouble for both of them if she punched a zyndari woman—Targyon might not be able to look the other way if one of his agents did that. But the founders knew she wanted to.
A surge of indignation emanated from her dragon tear, and unease replaced Zenia’s anger. If the gem acted on her behalf…
She clasped a hand to her chest, willing it to be good. An instant later, flames appeared all around Dominqua.
Zenia’s unease turned to sheer terror. She sprinted to the woman, imagining they would have to heft her up and throw her in a bath to put the fire out.
But the flames disappeared as rapidly as they’d appeared, leaving Dominqua standing naked in front of them, her dress and shoes having turned into a pile of ashes at her feet.
She shrieked, nothing seductive this time as she pressed a hand to her breasts. She sprinted out of sight. A sense of smug contentment came from Zenia’s dragon tear.
Zenia slumped in relief, glad she’d somehow ended up with a soul more prone to practical jokes than death and destruction. Not for the first time, she wondered if her gem was truly linked to a dragon. None of the legends of dragons spoke of senses of humor.
“I wish it had done that before she looked through the door,” Jev said dryly, his own sense of humor returning.
“Me too.”
Zenia shook her head as she stared at the ashes, knowing a little magic wouldn’t keep the woman from tattling on Jev. As if his unpleasant father needed any more reasons to hate Zenia and want to keep her away from his son.
“I’m sorry I made more trouble for you, Jev. If we didn’t need to work together, I’d say we should completely avoid each other until…” She groped in the air with her hand, not sure how to articulate herself. Until after his engagement was called off? But what if it wasn’t called off and he was married?
“Absolutely not.” He stepped up behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and bent his head to rest his temple against hers. “And you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I’m not some simple castle clerk that nobody would gain anything from by manipulating.”
She leaned back against him and closed her eyes. “Is it wrong for me to fantasize about that?”
“No, I’ve started to.” He kissed her temple. “I told my father I’d walk away from him and my position as his heir if he tried to force me to marry that girl. And I will. I want to be with you, Zenia, and I’m not going to let anyone tell me I can’t be.”
A rush of happiness went through her, but she tamped it down immediately. It was selfish of her to want him to give up his birthright. She knew he would be a good zyndar prime for his family and all the tenants on his land when the time came. And she knew he conside
red it his duty to be that person. If she asked him to give up his heritage, it would be like asking him to break a vow.
“Jev, I want to be with you, too, but I don’t want you to have to give up everything.”
“Too late. I already told him I would. You’ll still love me when I’m a simple castle clerk, right?”
“You don’t think Targyon will let you keep your Crown Agent job? If you were a clerk, you’d have to follow me around dutifully and hold my books.”
“I’d happily do that now.” He squeezed her waist and kissed her again. “Alas, my father didn’t disown me when I made the threat. A wishful part of me hoped he would. I got the impression he might be willing to deal, but like I told you, Zyndari Bludnor—Fremia’s mother—has a dragon tear. I’m almost positive she’s manipulating him. That may be why he agreed to the marriage in the first place, after he’d promised me I could at least have the summer to find someone.”
“But you said he agreed to meet with me, right?” Zenia shifted in his grip to face him.
“Yes. You don’t have to charm him. But if you and your dragon tear could check to see if some kind of spell is over him, I would appreciate it.”
“I could do that.”
“Good. Thank you.” He smiled at her.
The gesture took away some of the misery she felt over the night’s turn of events. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up wanting to kiss him again. She made herself pat his shoulder, not noticing its appealing nakedness, and step out of his grip.
“I came down here to share my research with you.” She glanced to where she’d dropped her notepad.
“Ah, of course. I actually brought Hydal here to ask him if he remembered anything about Vornzylar.”
“Did he?”
“A little, yes. He also overheard Zyndar Garlok talking to some other zyndar over drinks and sharing gossip about us like some teenage girl. It sounds like Garlok is behind some of the stories circulating about us.”
“I’m more concerned about Vornzylar right now.”
Elven Fury (Agents of the Crown Book 4) Page 16