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Watching Halston Matelon dress after a night—and morning—of lovemaking was quickly becoming Lyss’s favorite hobby. His muscles had softened somewhat during these past weeks spent in meetings at court instead of on the training grounds. Soft or not, however, his body was a performance.
When Hal noticed her rapt attention, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Keep staring at me like that and the rest of the party will walk in on us in nothing but our skin.”
“Not sure I’d even notice.” Lyss bounced to her feet, basking in the warmth of his gaze on her naked body before she pulled his discarded shirt from last night over her head. The hem reached just enough to cover her backend. It smelled like him and like grass and wind and soil from his journey to the cottage. She smiled at the spark of lust in his eyes. “Breakfast?”
“Yes, please,” Hal murmured, reaching for her waist.
Lyss laughed and batted him away. “I meant real food. You know, eggs, pastries, jams?”
“Why can’t we have both?”
“At the same time?”
“Now there’s an idea.”
Lyss shook her head and cleared her throat. “Pull yourself together, Matelon. We have a mission to complete.”
“Yes ma’am. Commencing Mission Look for Food.”
They emerged from their chamber to find the dining table already laden with jams, bread, and cooked eggs and sausage. Lyss was suddenly eternally grateful that Queen Marina had sent along several trusted servants who were lodged in a separate cottage on the grounds. They would handle all of the cooking for the feast later as well. Lyss would have to remember to find those servants and thank them each personally.
As Lyss settled into a plate of eggs and bread, she blushed, wondering if the servants had been setting this up during this morning’s romp. She suspected they’d encountered worse, but still.
They finished their breakfast and got fully dressed, Lyss in her own clothes this time—though she wished she could go on wearing clothes that smelled of Hal every day of her life. To keep herself from jumping Hal, Lyss set herself to straightening up the cottage. Years in the military had taught her to clean up after herself. After a few minutes, Hal joined in, and Lyss smiled to herself, thinking they might make a great team in a number of ways.
When the servants returned to clean up breakfast, they arrived to find their job half done, Hal and Lyss outside with a water basin. They had bubbles in their hair and were laughing far too much than was dignified. The servants chastised them and shooed them inside out of the cold.
Around midday, Ash and Jenna flew in with Sasha, Breon, Hadley, Lila, and Shadow riding up an hour later. Cas and the other dragons were left to fish and play along the coast.
Lyss flung herself at Ash. “Missed you too,” Ash said through a laugh. “You don’t have to strangle me every time.”
“If you stayed at the palace for more than a day once in a while, I wouldn’t have to,” said Lyss. She embraced the others, but Breon extended his hand before she could capture him in a hug. He looked stronger, healthier, but his eyes still held a faintly haunted look like he was still caught up in Celestine’s grip. Lyss hadn’t realized how distracted she’d been with her new role as queen. She’d hardly seen Breon the last few weeks. Sasha took his hand and gave him a sideways smile, and the memories living in his gaze faded.
“There is food and drink,” Hal said, gesturing to the feast set on the dining table. As their guests made themselves comfortable, Lyss caught Hal staring at Ash. She started toward him but was cut off by Sasha’s towering figure.
“How did negotiations go last night, Your Majesty? Did Matelon give you grief?” Sasha’s expression said that if he had, she would gladly teach him the repercussions.
Lyss stifled a laugh and hoped her face wasn’t flushed. “It went fine, Sasha. And, please, you’re my friend and my right hand. I’ve already told you how many times now? You can call me Lyss.” She touched Sasha’s arm. “How is Breon doing?” She tried to muffle the concern in her tone, but Sasha wasn’t fooled.
“He still has nightmares, but it’s getting better. Blood and bones, I still have nightmares. That volcano…”
Lyss squeezed her arm. “The best things for us take time, healing most of all.”
“Too bad Ash can’t heal emotional traumas like he can physical ones.”
“Indeed.”
Sasha swept over to Breon who cradled his jafasa in his lap by the fire, absently plucking the strings as he watched the flames devour the logs. He brightened when he saw Sasha.
Jenna nearly tackled him from behind, gesturing about with a leg of turkey as she roared something about dragons and flying before collapsing into laughter. Breon smiled with her, though he and Sasha looked nonplussed as to what the joke was.
Looking around for Hal, Lyss found where he’d cornered Ash by the table. Ash frowned at whatever Hal was saying.
The door swung open before Lyss could interrupt. Destin Karn strode in, cloak billowing in the wind, with Evan Strangward close behind. Destin’s eyes cast around the room as if searching for danger and marking the exits. Evan entered with a more jovial expression.
“Your favorite pirate has arrived,” he said, bowing prestigiously.
“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” said Ash with a grin, breaking away from his conversation with Hal. He shook Evan’s hand and then Destin’s.
Evan caught sight of Lyss, his eyes widening. “This must be Her Majesty, Queen Alyssa ana’Raisa. Sorry we are only just meeting. I was a little caught up in a magic spell half an ocean away and all that.” He did not bow or offer a handshake, just looked her up and down appraisingly. “Formidable as your mother. I’d almost be fine with a ruler if she were you.”
“Almost?” Lyss raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a pirate. My only true ruler is the sea. And,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Destin, “that one.”
“As if anyone could rule you,” said Destin.
“And you’re a stormcaster,” Lyss added. “Not even the seas rule you.”
Evan shrugged. “I can’t argue with a queen.”
“Certainly you can.” Ash offered Evan and Destin cups of wine. They accepted, but Lyss noticed neither of them drank. Not easy for a spymaster and pirate to trust, is it? “You argued with my mother, a task I barely ever brave,” continued Ash.
“I suppose that’s wise. Last man who tried ended up starting a war,” Evan said, grinning.
“And lost.” Hal was suddenly behind Lyss, his warmth and scent comforting.
“Here, here,” they all cheered.
Lyss had to resist the urge to lean against Hal’s sturdy chest. Their engagement was so tenuous, and she wanted it to be a surprise, but she caught Evan watching them with interest. He gave her a slight smile and nod. Then he turned and walked with Destin to shed their cloaks and eat.
Lyss took her chance and pulled Hal away, careful not to stand too close. “What were you discussing with Ash?”
“What?” Hal wouldn’t meet her eye. “Oh, nothing just—how delicious the powdered pastries are.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Matelon. Spill.”
Hal scratched his chin and finally met her gaze. “I was asking for his blessing. Since—since your father is—well, I can’t ask him so I thought…”
“Blessing?”
Hal leaned closer. “For your hand in marriage.”
Lyss blinked, registering this information before bursting out in laughter loud enough the others glanced her way. Hal looked disgruntled, maybe even embarrassed. Lyss lowered her voice. “You asked my brother for my hand in marriage? You still have a lot to learn about queendoms, Matelon.”
“That’s what Ash said.”
“Besides, you already asked me. It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”
Hal bowed his head, pouting.
Lyss shook her head and pushed his chest teasingly. “If I could right now, I’d kiss that silly frown off your face.”
Hal quirked an eyebrow. “Why not just do it? We’ve taken bigger risks.”
Lyss stalled him gently when he began to edge closer. “Surprise. Remember?”
“Fine, fine. But hurry up with the announcement then.”
“Is that a command, Your Majesty?”
“Only a request, Your Majesty. Because I would so badly like to kiss you right now, Alyssa.”
Heart fumbling in her chest, Lyss strode away from that conversation feeling weak in the—well, everywhere. But she straightened her spine and forced her hands not to tremble as she poured herself a drink. She turned to address her friends but paused, lips parted.
They all looked so warm and comfortable. Happy. Breon, Hadley, and Jenna were laughing at a story Evan was telling with dramatic gestures. Ash, Shadow, and Sasha sat with their feet kicked up in front of the fire. Hal was attempting and failing to get Destin to eat a jelly tart while Lila watched, amused. They were a family. Lyss hoped this wouldn’t be the last time they were all together.
“Ahem,” she called in her commanding queen voice. When they all quieted and looked to her, she smiled. “This party wasn’t intended as any kind of celebration, but now it turns out there is something to celebrate.” Hal moved to stand beside her. Ash smiled at them both. Lyss took Hal’s hand, relishing the rough sword callouses and the quiet strength there. “The Queendom of the Fells and the Kingdom of Arden are to be united as more than just allies. After hours and hours of begging and pleading—”
“Oh, from you?” Hal interrupted.
Lyss grinned playfully. “After a very brief deliberation, I agreed to marry this handsome idiot.”
Hal leaned in to her ear so she could hear over all the cheers and congratulations. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Please do.”
He kissed her hard, almost frantically, so that when they broke apart her lips ached.
Jenna was the first to grab Lyss in a tight hug. She whispered, “I am happy for you…sister.” Lyss’s throat constricted, realizing if Jenna and Ash married—which seemed likely to happen, soon even—Lyss would finally have a sister again, and Jenna would have a sister who was not maniacal and eager to kill her.
Lyss clutched at Jenna’s back, hoping she could see in her mind what she felt since she couldn’t seem to find the words.
Ash regarded Hal thoughtfully. He had practically done more for Ash’s own country than Ash himself had, not to mention all Hal had accomplished for Arden and would doubtless continue to achieve. Ash didn’t think he had the right to have an opinion over who his sister married, but he still felt a rush of protectiveness, the wolf inside baring its fangs.
Once Jenna released Lyss, both looking teary-eyed, Lyss wrapped Ash into a hug and kissed his cheek.
“Congratulations,” he said. Then he lowered his voice so only she could hear. “I hope? Is this for politics or for love?”
“Why can’t it be both? I am nothing if not a pragmatic queen,” said Lyss.
Ash kissed her forehead. “Then I wish you a happy union. Mother will be beside herself.”
“With joy or horror?”
“Possibly both.”
“Just imagine when you tell her you’re going to marry Jenna.”
Ash blanched. “What?”
“Oh, please. You’ve practically exchanged rings at this point, if you haven’t already.” Lyss snagged his hand, searching for a ring before giving him an impish grin.
“You move as quickly as Jenna,” Ash said breathlessly. He suddenly wished he could sit down.
“Well, when you find one as good as Hal or Jenna, why not seize the moment?”
“Are you trying to persuade me to propose to Jenna tonight? Don’t make me regret coming home.”
Lyss punched his arm playfully. “At least your relationship won’t be challenged by two separate countries.” She squeezed his hand before going to talk with Sasha whose face was blotchy with excitement.
Another hand slipped into Ash’s. He looked down as Jenna leaned against his side. She glanced up at him, those predatory yellow eyes now soft and gentle.
“Slayer will be excited,” she said.
Ash nodded in agreement. “He’ll want to attend the wedding, no doubt. That should be interesting. We should have Sparrow craft some glitterbits for him to wear to the ceremony.”
“Dragons won’t understand the point of a wedding. But yes. He will insist on coming.” She lowered her eyes to the opening in the collar of his shirt. “We get our own room, don’t we?”
Ash laughed. “Yes, I believe we do.”
“Good.” She kissed him, and flashes of her desire and contentedness struck through him. When he pulled back, he studied her face.
“Do you want to get married someday?” he asked.
Jenna’s eyebrows rose, though her expression said she’d seen marriage was on his mind. Ash could hardly believe he’d broached the topic at all, but here they were. “Not necessarily to me,” he added. “Just—someday.”
Jenna smoothed the backs of her fingers along his jawline, roughened with the day’s stubble. “Someday.” She locked eyes with him. “Dragons mate for life, you know.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.”
Jenna kissed him again, her arms slithering around to grab his backend. Reluctantly, Ash took the initiative and stepped away from her before they started something that would cause a scene in front of his friends and sister—though he kept hold of her hand. They strolled toward the door and quietly slipped outside while the others were distracted with celebrating the good news.
The cold pinched Ash’s skin, but even without his coats, Jenna’s heat warmed him. Night was on its way, the sun dipping lower and lower behind the cottage. Jenna led Ash along a path toward the roar of the coast. They came to a cliff, waves slamming the rocks below, and stood, letting the sea winds whip their clothes about them. Jenna sat at the edge, and Ash settled behind her, wrapping her body in his arms—both for warmth and to be closer to her.
Images of flying through starry night skies and over endless dark seas, a sense of longing flickered in Ash’s mind. He buried his nose in the hair at the top of her head, breathing her in. Was she happy here? With him? Would she be happy if they ever did marry? She had always been full of such wilderness and freedom. It didn’t seem fair to tie her down.
Together they were constructing an unprecedented military unit membered by dragons and their riders. But Jenna still dreamed of flying free, past the boundaries of the known lands.
Am happy, said Jenna, without words.
Ash’s arms tightened around her. He hadn’t realized he let his thoughts become so transparent, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his thoughts from her. Part of him liked it. Part of him worried about it turning into a problem. That she might find parts of his mind she didn’t like.
I love you, Jenna said. She leaned deeper into him.
And I love you, Jenna.
Marry you.
“What?” Ash was startled into speaking aloud.
Jenna’s shoulders jostled against his chest, and Ash realized she was laughing. Not now. Someday. Go beyond seas. Past lands. Beyond. Or stay. Anything. For you.
We never have to part again, he told her. The purity of emotion in mind-to-mind communication was still so potent it left Ash clinging to Jenna to say grounded. I follow you and you follow me. Wherever.
Wherever, Jenna agreed.
The flap of wings stirred them and the surrounding air. Cas landed behind them, twisting his head to one side. Follow? Going somewhere? he asked.
Jenna stood and went to stroke a hand down his snout. No. Not now. Only talking.
“We should probably go back now,” Ash said, mourning the loss of Jenna’s body heat. “The others might start wondering where we are.”
“Completely idiotic,” Hadley blustered, cheeks pinkened with drink. She pointed an accusing finger at Strangward where he sat across the small parlor, and Lila had to stifle a laugh behind a swig of blue ruin. “It’s just stupid to put all that trust in a bunch of mechanical whatsits and all to do the work of sailing for you. I trust my sailors more than I trust a bunch of rigging and levers.”
Strangward smiled as if he could charm away her misgivings. “I do trust my sailors, and one of them happens to be an excellent engineer as well as an exceptional sailor. That’s why I had him do up our little rig.” He laid a hand on Destin’s arm who stood beside him, looking as intimidating as ever at having his ship designs challenged.
Hadley seemed to register her mistake. She started spluttering an apology and trying to backstep her way into a more complimentary standpoint. It didn’t help that she was drunk.
“Entertainment and a meal,” said Shadow, appearing beside Lila. She hated that he could sneak up on her like that. “It’s almost like we never left court.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lila groaned under her breath. She looked at him sidelong. “You didn’t hate it there. You seemed to make a place for yourself, even. Seems you can fit in anywhere you want.”
“If you spent a little more time at Fellsmarch, you would fit in too.”
Lila scoffed. “And wear a blue uniform, dance around for the princeling, his mother, his sister, like a servant?”
“You could just go as yourself. As Lila Byrne.”
Lila bit her lip. “I could never stand to eat so well, sleep on such soft beds.”
Shadow chuckled. “Do whatever you want, Lila. You always have.” Then he drifted toward the food to pick at the grapes at the end of the table.
Lila frowned and downed the rest of her blue ruin, grimacing at the burn.
“Barrowhill.”
Lila nearly jumped out of her skin at Destin Karn’s voice behind her. “Blood and bones, does everybody have to be such a sneak tonight?”
Destin blinked. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Well, too late.”
He looked momentarily conflicted then asked, “Would you like another drink?”
“I can get it myself if I want, thanks. We may be friends, Karn, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
After a moment he caught the teasing gleam in her eye and one corner of his mouth twitched upward. He hadn’t had a single drink all night. He could use one. Still stiff as a board.
“How is it working with the newborn king?” Lila asked.
“Better than any other king I’ve served.”
“Not setting the bar terribly high.”
“No, indeed.” Destin seemed distracted. Lila rested her shoulder against the wall and watched him observe the rest of the party. His gazed cast a wide net, darting from person to person, snapping to the door when Ash and Jenna returned from outside, but frequently flitting back to Strangward as if checking he were still there.
Breon, lying with his legs slung over the arm of the settee and his head resting on Strangward’s lap, began playing a delicate, primal song that made Lila think of her home in Smuggler’s Cove, of sea spray and clanging bells and the rank but familiar smell of the fish market. She wished he’d stop. Then again, part of her wanted to fall asleep to that music and never wake.
“You could rebuild,” Destin said, drawing Lila out of Breon’s music. “Smuggler’s Cove. It is never too late to begin again.” He was staring at Strangward now.
“I don’t know that it would make a difference. There is nothing there for me now that my family is dead. All I have is my father, but I don’t belong in his world.”
Destin finally tore his gaze from Strangward to meet Lila’s. “I have never known you not to carve a seat for yourself at whatever feast you wished, Lila Barrowhill. I can’t know what you’ve been through. I only know what kind of person you have been up to this point. I hope you haven’t changed that much.” With that, Destin finally poured himself a cup of wine and went to sit beside Strangward, stretching his arm around his shoulders.
Whatever feast she wished.
Lila sighed, and her eyes, without her permission, found Shadow. He was trying to tame Hadley as she drunkenly challenged a laughing Strangward to a ship race. Was it her feast to sit at?
Breon let his brother’s song fill his mind. He liked that. Calling Evan his brother. Whether Evan would appreciate it, Breon wasn’t willing to test, but he could think it all he wanted.
His fingers strummed the sounds he heard from Evan. They sounded different than they had all those weeks ago on that island. Before, there had been something missing, like a harmony missing half its notes. But now Breon played it as if to fill up his own hollowed spaces.
“Breon.” The voice sounded stern, and Breon’s playing halted abruptly. He opened his eyes and tilted his head back to meet Destin’s scolding gaze. He glanced toward Evan. From Evan’s lap, Breon could see his half-brother’s expression waking out of a hazy stupor. “I don’t like it when you do that,” Destin told Breon. “It reminds me of-of that night.”
Now that he thought about it, Breon realized his music did produce an effect similar to that island Celestine had taken him and Evan to. Breon cringed and sat up.
“Hey,” Evan said, having snapped out of his trance, “Bree, don’t go. Des, don’t—Breon, it’s fine. He didn’t mean—It just—”
“I know,” said Breon. “I shouldn’t have taken the liberty. I’m sorry.”
Evan gave Destin a conflicted look. Destin sighed. “It’s all right,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
Breon looked at the two of them, Evan nestled against Destin’s side, Destin’s arm around his shoulders. They looked right together. More music came to Breon, though this time it wasn’t any one person’s song so much as a song for two, though he had a feeling it wouldn’t cast magic. Maybe he’d play it for them one day. For now, he smiled at them both and said, “I’d better go find Sasha.”
It didn’t take long. Sasha’s song always sang to him, clear and strong. She sat in a far corner with Lyss, their heads bowed together. As he approached, Sasha looked up. “I was just telling Lyss about riding down here.”
“I hear you’ve become quite the horse charmer,” Lyss said, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“I can’t help that they have good taste in music.”
“Perhaps a little too much.”
“So my horse fell asleep to my music. While I was riding her. Nothing to write home about.”
Sasha exhaled sharply. “Not just your horse. I nearly broke my ankle when Treader rolled me over.”
“And I said I was sorry,” said Breon. Sasha smiled warmly at him.
“Careful you don’t play while riding a dragon. You’ll break more than an ankle falling out of the sky,” Lyss joked. “Speaking of breaking things, I’d better go stop Jenna.” It appeared Jenna had imbibed a little too much and was laughing and thrusting her hands into the fireplace, armored scales erupting up her arms. Ash was risking burns and bruises trying to wrangle her before she set the whole place ablaze.
The brush of Sasha’s fingers against his own pulled Breon’s eyes back to her. Even with her sitting down he barely had to look down to meet her gaze.
“Is it getting to be too much?” she asked.
Breon knew she was referring to all the drinking. Leaf and spirits weren’t the same, but addiction was addiction, and anything that could possibly take the edge off the cravings was a painful temptation.
The concern in Sasha’s expression tugged at Breon’s gut. He hated that he made her look that way. He hated that she wasn’t unfounded in her worries, that he’d been distracting his fingers all night with playing instead of reaching to pour a bottle of blue ruin right down his throat. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said and kissed her fingers. “I think I’ll explore the place a bit, clear my head.” He left her looking like she wanted to follow him up the stairs.
This cottage was hardly a cottage by Breon’s standards. It was just shy of a palace—though very different from Fellsmarch Castle, which he still couldn’t believe he’d seen anything more of than the dungeon. Sasha was busy these days as Queen Alyssa’s captain, so Breon often found himself wandering the castle corridors, feeling half like a spoiled brat and half an intruder waiting to be caught and jailed. Even now, the sight of the elaborate tapestries and finely-crafted furniture made his pockets feel empty.
Lyss had given Breon and Sasha a corner room, right next to hers. Queen’s captain, and all that. The room had generic guest furnishings, a large bed with goose feather pillows and warm heavy blankets, a stained wood wardrobe, and a sitting area in one corner populated with plush chairs.
Breon settled into a chair, tucking his feet up so his back pressed against the arm. His jafasa rested on his knees. He closed his eyes and played.
He let the music take him on a journey so long and winding, when he opened his eyes, he jumped when he spotted Sasha’s head propped against the edge of his seat. She’d dragged the cover from the bed and wrapped herself in a cocoon on the floor. Her breaths were steady and deep.
As gently and quietly as he could, Breon climbed off the chair. Briefly, he considered trying to carry her to the bed, but he was not a strong man, and Sasha was pure muscle. Instead, he leaned his jafasa against the wall and began pulling all the pillows and sheets from the bed, carefully arranging a nest around Sasha. When he finished, he knelt and kissed her on the crown of her head. She finally stirred but didn’t open her eyes, hand blindly finding his arm and clenching his sleeve. Breon laid her on the pillows before delving into the mess of blankets, pillows, and sheets to lie there and listen to her breath, watch her eyelids flutter with dreams.
Luckily, while Hadley and Jenna were both apparently rowdy drunks, they also seemed to be sleepy drunks. Shadow and Lila carried a snoring Hadley to her room while Ash let Jenna snuggle into his chest on the opposite lounge.
Hal was apparently a weepy drunk, the wine handing the reins to his dramatic side, which left an amused Lyss wrestling with his teary pleas for her to marry him despite her frequent reminders she’d already agreed.
There was something novel and dream-like about watching his friends settle in for the night, and Evan found himself pressing into Destin’s side, slithering his arm between Destin’s back and the cushion and nuzzling lightly into his shoulder. To his surprise, Destin rested his chin on his head. Destin rarely showed affection in front of others. Evan made a promise to himself to keep their home stocked with wine if it brought this out in him.
“I can’t remember the last time I just had fun,” said Destin, his words slurred, though Evan suspected it was more from weariness than drink.
“Don’t lie. You’re too serious to have ever had fun,” Evan said. Destin’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against Evan’s ear. Ash chuckled at them and stroked Jenna’s hair.
“We’ve known each other for how long? So what does that say about you?” Destin asked.
“Nothing at all. I’m a delight. You just don’t know how to join in when I’m being a delight.”
“Remind me why I decided to partner with you?” Destin teased, discreetly rubbing his cheek on Evan’s hair. He was like a cat.
“Because I’m witty and charming and handsome and generally all good things a person can be.”
“Right, pirate.”
Evan waved Destin’s words out of the air. “Hush now. I’m trying to interpret these noises coming from your stomach.”
Destin shoved Evan away playfully, and as they laughed, Jenna roused slightly, grumbling. They quieted. But their outburst had gotten Hal’s attention as well, and he started sobbing in their direction. “Those two, they’re so—they’re so cute, just—Look at them! Karn was so worried the whole time, and I wondered what was—and then the impresh—the empresh—she took Evan and it was so sad.” He dissolved into tears.
Evan’s ears burned. Lyss threw him and Destin an apologetic look. “I think it’s time for bed, Hal. Come on.” She looped his arm around her shoulders and they made their way, shakily, up the steps.
Evan couldn’t quite find the strength to look Destin in the eye after having been called cute. He stood, brushing off nonexistent crumbs. “Right then. Suppose I’ll retire as well.” He started toward the staircase, but Destin’s hand on his gave him pause. Destin met his eyes, smiling and unabashed.
“He loves you,” mumbled Jenna. Ash looked at them in an embarrassed panic as Jenna continued. “Dragons…saw it.”
Now Destin did look flustered, his eyes darting from Evan to everywhere else. But he didn’t release his hand. Evan cleared his throat. “Goodnight, then, Your Majesty,” Evan said to Ash, then led the way upstairs.
At the landing, the sound of Hal’s sniffles came from one of the far rooms, and Evan decided he was grateful their rooms were across the hall. They were surprisingly modest for a royal’s summer cottage. That suited Evan just fine. With a grunt, Evan flopped onto the bed, sinking into the downy mattress.
“I’m not about to lie in a bed with you if you plan to sleep in those day-old clothes,” said Destin. Evan twisted around to squint at him, but Destin was smiling.
“I don’t plan on sleeping in any clothes at all,” Evan shot back, loving the way Destin’s mouth squirmed.
“With eight other people in the place and servants liable to barge in?”
“You’re right. It’ll look strange if just one of us is naked.” Evan hopped to his feet and reached for the hem of Destin’s shirt. Destin laughed, swatting at Evan’s grasping hands, and backed against the arm of the lounge in their room’s parlor. Evan succeeded in wrestling Destin’s shirt halfway off before Destin caught his wrists and brought them to his lips. He gently kissed his pulse, his palms. The flutter of his breath on Evan’s skin was enough to raise goose pimples.
“I do…” Destin stared at the floor, the decision solidifying in his expression. “I do love you. You know that, right? I know—we’ve never…”
“I know,” Evan said. “I love you too.” He touched the corner of Destin’s jaw, rubbing his fingers over the scratchy stubble there. “I’m sorry if Jenna made you uncomfortable, sharing that in front of Ash.”
“I don’t care who knows.” The finality in his tone was solid as steel. He covered Evan’s hand with his and met his gaze. “I am done being ashamed and afraid to love openly. General Karn is dead. And I am here with you.”
Destin pulled Evan closer and kissed him, fervent but tender. He tasted of wine and woodsmoke and was no less intoxicating.
They didn’t so much break apart as gradually ebb into simply holding each other, Destin leaned against the end of the lounge with his arms around Evan, who stood between his knees with his hands cupping Destin’s face. Evan rested his forehead against Destin’s. Their eyes closed. They could have stayed like that all night, but Evan finally went to change into his bedclothes. Destin was slower to move. Evan felt his eyes watching him disrobe. Only when he stood at the bedside expectantly did Destin move to undress. He did so slowly, methodically. Boots unlaced and stepped out of, shirt tugged over his head, breeches undone and shucked.
For a moment Destin paused, standing in his smallclothes as if letting Evan’s imagination run wild—which it did. Then he untied the string of his trousers, stepped out of them, pulled back the covers, and lay down.
Evan suddenly realized he still hadn’t gotten into bed.
He promptly rectified that grievous error, but not before throwing off his own bedclothes. Destin’s eyebrows rose in amusement.
Once the last candle was snuffed and he was under the covers, Evan snuggled close to Destin like he had many nights before, but now there was a new intimacy. They hadn’t made love yet. This literal and figurative baring of souls was unmapped territory.
Despite their long-awaited reunion, they were taking things slow. After everything, Evan didn’t want to push Destin.
Destin wrapped his arms around Evan, and Evan closed his eyes, nudging his cheek into Destin’s chest. He was so warm, his breathing so deep and hypnotizing, that Evan wandered into sleep easier than he could pilot a ship. Later, he would wonder if the quiet sweet nothings he seemed to recall hearing, about a warm farmhouse and sailing together and dragons and dogs and children, had all been a dream.