by Elise Kova
“It would’ve been nice to meet her.” I take another sip. The flavor has become somewhat sad and full of yearning. “I would’ve had so many questions.”
“Perhaps you could ask me?” Eldas runs one of his very dexterous fingers across the rim of his mug. I shift, my seat suddenly much less comfortable as the motion elicits memories of our night together.
“At this point, they would mostly be questions about my magic.”
“I see.” He pauses. “At this point?”
I take another long sip so I don’t have to answer right away. I have to choose my next words carefully. “At first, I may have asked how any queen put up with this situation. How no one else was as adamant about finding a…solution.”
“A way out, you mean.” The words are easy enough, but there’s a cool edge to his tone. One that I now easily interpret as hurt. He sees me as yet another person running away from him, condemning him to seclusion. His eyes fall to the journal on the table, almost accusing it for trying to take me away.
“A way to strengthen Midscape,” I insist. That’s what my mission is about now. Ensuring the safety of Midscape. Doing so is the best way to help everyone here and, moreover, it’ll be the only way to know if what I’m feeling for Eldas is real. Or if all of these deep and complex emotions are just born of proximity and the appearance of necessity.
Love is choice, I told Luke, what seems like forever ago, and I have never found it to be truer. I cannot be certain of what I feel for Eldas if I don’t choose him freely.
“But you don’t have those questions any longer?” He glances over at me through long, dark lashes.
“No, I don’t.” I wave an arm toward the grounds. “This alone is paradise. And the conservatory back at the castle is a welcome balm that would suffice between trips out here.”
“I see.” Do I hear disappointment in his tone?
“Moreover…” The second I speak, Eldas looks at me with intent. I shouldn’t have said anything. Hope has brightened his face more than the sun—more than the magic flush that coated my skin last night as we made love. “I can understand how some queens found companionship in their kings.”
I make the attempt at giving him a coquettish smile and emphasize the word “companionship.” Not love. I can’t say it just yet. What would happen if I’m successful and then return home to find I can’t leave again once I’m surrounded by my shop and patients? What if the Fade strips away these feelings from me the moment I emerge back in the Natural World? What if I do truly care for him but I can’t leave my shop again?
He would be crushed. And that is a fall I will not even risk setting him up for. Let him think this is casual enjoyment. I’m past the point of being able to guard my heart. I’m helpless for the fallout. But him? Maybe I can still spare him.
Of course, all this assumes that he feels anything for me in return. Just because he wasn’t with Rinni doesn’t mean he’s never been with a woman. His skill in bed makes it difficult for me to imagine that last night was his first time. Though…having never been with a man before, I don’t exactly have a large list of comparisons for skill.
I banish the thoughts from my mind. I refuse to imagine him being with another woman and I can’t imagine that these feelings that threatened to burn me alive last night are one-sided. For now, we’ll dangerously ignore all of those unknowns like we ignore our time together here dwindling. That’s safer for both our hearts.
Eldas chuckles, ignorant to my countless worries about what the future holds for us. “And tell me, my queen, was I a sufficient companion”—the way he says the word is a bit chilly, but with a joking edge—“to you last night? Because if you found me lacking in any way, that will be something I must immediately remedy.” He licks his wicked smile and it stirs me at my core.
“Well, you know me. I am fastidious in my collection of information on a topic. More data is necessary.”
He lets out a low growl before grabbing my face and crushing his lips against mine. I happily comply as he tugs me onto his lap. My stiff body tries to protest, but I move anyway. My legs straddle either side of him and he grinds against me.
I bite on his lower lip, which elicits a delicious sound. He rises, holding me with both hands, my legs wrapped around his waist. With a sweep of his hand and a burst of his icy magic, the cups vanish from existence. I barely notice as my back hits the small table.
He tugs at the bindings of my robe as my fingers grope at his pants in equal fervor. Why did we even bother dressing? As if we didn’t know this was what we’d end up doing.
As bare as we were last night, Eldas wastes no time. His hips crash into mine again and I let out a cry of delight. I’m filled with a deep ache and satiation at the same time. My body is exhausted, yet eager to move with him—eager for his touch.
Our moans and gasps fill the valley as all shame and hesitation is forgotten and we collectively continue to dream that insatiable dream of all we could be.
Chapter 32
Three days too soon, the coach returns.
We packed our bags the night before and, at my insistence, stacked them by the door. Eldas refused to let me help the footman load up. So getting them ready to go was the least I could do.
As the footman begins loading the bags I wander back out through the kitchen, already like the ghost of another forgotten queen—one of many to float through this world, enjoy its pleasures, and then be swept away. I grab my elbows, looking out over the pool, remembering Eldas floating in it the afternoon prior. The sun glistening off his perfect, wet, and deliciously naked body. So delicious looking that I had to take a bite…
“Are you all right?” he asks softly. I didn’t even hear him join me outside this time.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” I admit.
His hands settle lightly on my hips. Eldas takes a small step closer and plants a sweet kiss in the crook of my neck.
“Duty calls, for now. But we could come back after seeing my brother.” He pauses, grips me tighter, then adds solemnly, “And after you recharge the throne once more.”
The air is already cooling around us. I am stronger than I have been in weeks, thanks to the natural magic living in this place. Strong enough that I can resist the temptation of coming back here. It was a lovely dream, and like all dreams, I have to wake up. There’s still work to be done and three-thousand-year-old cycles to end. I shake my head.
“By then it’ll be too close to the coronation.” Too close to when I will be cemented into this world and all possibility of choice along with the pursuit of truth will vanish. After the coronation, there can be no return and I will never freely explore the feelings I have for him. “We should go back to Quinnar and continue searching for the way to end the cycle.”
“Time is relentless,” he mutters. I’m forced to agree. I had told myself that my time here was a dream and I enjoyed it like one. Now, the dawn is cruel and I wonder if I will ever find another morning kind.
“Thank you for taking me here, for showing me this, for giving me rest—”
“I did not give you that much rest.” He smirks and I can’t stop myself from kissing off the expression between chuckles.
“Thank you for everything,” I whisper over his lips.
“You seem to have enjoyed yourself.” His voice has a delighted and sultry tone. He knows full well I enjoyed myself all over this place. He was the source of the majority of that enjoyment.
“It was all right.” I grin.
He releases me, aghast. “Just all right?”
“Perhaps you should work harder.” I glance over my shoulder and it’s his turn to claim my coy grin with his mouth. Our kisses are still the hungry sort that has him almost pushing me up against the wall and hiking my skirts. Even when they linger, they’re filled with desire deeper than any emotion I’ve ever known.
“Don’t challenge me,” Eldas growls, biting my lower lip and drawing forth a moan. “Or I may exceed your expectations.”
&
nbsp; “Maybe I want that.”
“Oh, I know you want it. But can you handle it?”
Even as I look at him, determined, I shiver with delight. He’s a sensual dream of a man. The footman saves us before we give into baser instincts.
“Your Majesties.” He bows and keeps his eyes on the ground. Eldas takes a half step away from me, but his palm still rests on the small of my back. He’s not afraid to touch me in front of others anymore, a fact that I think I might like. “The coach is ready whenever you are.”
“Let’s not delay,” Eldas declares.
A pang of longing constricts the muscles around my heart as I step over the threshold of the cottage. I can imagine the curlicues of the vines wriggling for me, reaching like the hands of children. The land itself begs for me with a whisper I feel more than hear. It resonates through my feet.
With one last look at the queen’s oasis in a desert of wild magic and gray castles, I step into the coach.
We’re silent for most of the way to Westwatch. The silence is a comfortable third companion, someone we met one night while sweaty, tired, and satisfied, and now know well. Eldas’s journal is back on his lap and we spend most of the journey writing and reading. I finally have a few hours uninterrupted reading time when I’m not too distracted by his presence to focus.
“Oh,” I exhale. My eyes are stuck to a page. I know whose journal this is. My heart races. Perhaps this journal was waiting in that desk, holding itself together for this moment. My searching that night was rewarded.
I’m holding the journal of the first queen.
“We’re here,” Eldas says with a note of affirmation. He misinterpreted the sound I made. I jerk my head upward, about to correct him, but am distracted as the coach rolls slowly across a wide drawbridge. Eldas points over my shoulder at a wall that stretches upward into the sky and sprints toward the horizon east and west. “That’s the elf border,” he says. “My great, great grandfather was the one to build the wall to keep out the fae fighting and other agitators from elf lands. There’s the river I told you about as the added protection.”
“The fae lose their glamour whenever they come in contact with fresh water, right?”
He nods.
Talk of the fae brings back that day in the city. I suppress a shudder and focus on the other thoughts fae mentions give me—thoughts of Harrow and glimmer. I’ve only been away a few days, but it seems like too long.
“Harrow will be here too, right?”
“Yes, and our mother as well, since it’s a family trip,” Eldas says with a note of apology.
“If she’s civil then I will be too.” I’ve long since learned that it’s impossible to make or expect everyone to like you. Of course, I would’ve preferred if Eldas’s mother, of all people, at least tolerated me. But if my suspicions are correct, her hatred lies with Alice, not me, and whatever dynamic Eldas’s father and Alice had. The best I can hope for is that in the future, if I stay—if I return—then she can learn to accept me. But, for the time being, I put Sevenna aside.
“We shall see.” Eldas doesn’t sound too hopeful.
Across the expanse of water is the arc of a city. When the city could no longer build out, it built up. I see the familiar architecture of Quinnar here in the towering buildings and gray stone. At the heart of the city is a large keep nestled within the wall. Much like at the castle of Quinnar, a many-gated tunnel snakes through the base of the keep—the only entrance and exit, I presume, to the fae lands.
We step out of the carriage and a wave of servants bows to greet us. I walk at Eldas’s side, adjusting my skirts. I wish he had helped me by suggesting I wear something slightly more formal. Wasn’t that why he packed so much for me? Perhaps my mission to get him accustomed to the clothes I usually wear was a little too successful.
Eldas’s brother, Drestin, is the odd man out of his siblings. He didn’t inherit his mother’s black hair. His is, instead, a dark shade of brown that I presume belonged to their father. It’s cut even shorter than Harrow’s and gives him the distinct air of a military man.
Drestin’s wife, Carcina, is ready to pop at any moment. The entire way to our room she ambles alongside us with one hand on her very pregnant stomach, apologetic for being unable to curtsy or bow properly. I assure her not to worry, but that only seems to fluster her more.
“What do you think of them?” Eldas asks the first moment we’re alone.
“They’re pleasant,” I answer honestly.
“They are a delight.”
“Might I ask something about them?” I take off my traveling cloak, draping it over a settee situated near a hearth.
“Anything.”
“Carcina is Drestin’s wife.”
“Yes?”
“And she’s the mother of his child?” I ask somewhat timidly.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Well…” I’m not sure why I’m dancing around this topic. I clear my throat and collect myself. “I know the Human Queen wasn’t your mother. I know Elf Kings usually take lovers. I know the elves value tradition, but I’m afraid I still haven’t sorted out what ‘tradition’ is when it comes to elf lords siring their heirs.”
“Ah, that’s right. Talk of heirs has never really come up.”
A fact I was all too ready to leave to the side when I’d first arrived, as even the thought of being intimate with Eldas was unfathomable. But now… “I don’t mean to imply you and I, that I was going to—” I start to add hastily, thinking of our past few days. He cuts me off with a laugh.
“It’s a fair question; I didn’t think you meant to imply anything.” Eldas unbuttons his coat, distracting me for a moment with the elegant movements of his fingers. “The Elf King is permitted to take lovers and the Human Queen is as well. It has been tradition for the Elf King to sire his heir with a lover—like my mother—because it ensures the Elf King will be wholly elf, and his deep connection to the Veil wouldn’t be at risk.”
“I see.” I mull this over. “So there’s never been a child of an Elf King and a Human Queen?”
“No. It’s not—”
“Traditional?” I finish with a slight grin. I meander into the bedroom, coming to a stop as I take note that there’s only one bed.
“I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.” Eldas’s voice is deep with a hint of mischief. He leans against the doorframe, his silvery tunic like liquid metal over his lean shoulders. “My brother offered separate rooms, however…”
“Of course not.” I gasp with a mask of mock offense. “How dare you suggest we inconvenience them further!”
“No, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He smirks, hands sliding around my waist, tugging me to his hard body.
“Though I must insist that I have time to get some work done in the evenings.” I retrieve the small journal from my coat pocket, trying to show it to him.
Eldas has none of it. He pushes the journal away and hooks my chin. “Very well, but it’s not evening yet,” he growls over my lips. “Which means I have every right to distract you now.”
I shiver, body responding to him, journal forgotten. I’m helpless, putty as his hands slide up my sides, grabbing my breasts through my clothes. I inhale sharply and he crushes his mouth against mine.
I’ve so much I need to tell him. There’s so much work to be done and things to worry about. This journal is the key we’ve been waiting for. But his caresses as he leads me to the bed we’ll share smooth away all thoughts of leaving.
The colors of the world around me blur and smear under his gentle palms until he is the only thing in focus. We tumble back onto the duvet and spend the afternoon focused solely on each other.
“Harrow and Mother should have been here by now.” Drestin looks to the tall grandfather clock wedged between full bookcases in the lounge we’ve collected in for drinks before dinner.
“The rain might have held them up.” Eldas stands by a blazing hearth, the orange light casting his form in shadow. Outs
ide, rain pounds the glass.
“This is not the rain. Harrow is still up to his antics. I hear the rumors of the youngest prince even out in Westwatch. I’ve no doubt he’s the cause of this delay.” Drestin takes a long swig of his drink. Mine is mostly unfinished. “We need to be done with it, marry him off and give him land. The sooner he gets real responsibility on his shoulders, the better.”
“He’s not ready,” Eldas protests.
“I wasn’t ready when you gave me Westwatch and was only a year older than Harrow is now. It was the best thing that could’ve been done for me.” Drestin’s bright blue eyes flick over to Carcina. She’s seated next to me on the couch and looks significantly more comfortable than she did at our earlier meeting. “Best thing, aside from meeting you, of course.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. I know I was merely a requirement with the title,” Carcina says with a playful grin.
“Ah, yes, forgive me. That’s all you are, mother of my child, light of my world, goddess among women—merely another box that I had to check.” Drestin jests back and I’m pleased to see genuine fondness in his eyes. Those eyes flick over to me and then back to Eldas just as fast. It was only a glance, but I know what he’s thinking.
A marriage made of necessity but sustained by genuine love that grew against all odds. I take a sip of my drink to avoid saying anything on the topic. If Eldas is even aware of the undercurrents, he says nothing.
“We should have dinner,” Eldas suggests, looking to the clock once more. “Carcina, you shouldn’t go this late without eating.”
“I’m fine.” Carcina pats her stomach. “Perhaps if this babe is hungry enough, it’ll come crawling out at the table and demand food.” She laughs. “I’m ready for it to be over with.”
“Most women are at this stage,” I say. She looks to me with an inquisitive stare. “Back in Capton—in my world—” I clarify, not knowing how much they know of the other side of the Fade, “I studied at the academy to be a herbalist. I didn’t specialize in midwifery, but I worked closely with those who did. There are many balms and draughts that you can have to help with various ailments at this stage…such as swollen feet or aching back.” I took note of both when she was hobbling with us to our rooms.