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I hadn’t heard him move, but Kem’s breath flutters over my cheek as he leans over me from behind, whispering in my ear. “You were dazzling. I’d like to spar with you as well, Heilsi.”
Turning, my chest brushes against his body, and my eyes travel up to meet his hungry face. “I’d like that.”
He nods, holding my gaze a moment before taking my hand and leading me from the room and up the stairs.
I assume he’s taking us back to his rooms, but after a few moments, I realize we are going in the opposite direction. Kem must notice my swiveling gaze because he squeezes my hand. “We’re headed to the dining hall. I figured you’d be hungry. But first, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
He leads me down two halls and up a short staircase. At the top, he turns to a simple wood door, opening it on silent hinges. I stall in the doorway, gasping. A short forest-green-haired woman sitting at a table littered with books and scrolls lifts her head with a smile, bowing to Kem. “Ah, your Majesty. This is her, I presume?”
Kem pulls me into the room, releasing my hand. “Yes, this is Tatha, my Mate. Tatha, this is Sabina, the royal scribe.”
My eyes travel the room with greedy attention. The room is well lit with flickering flames encased in glass. I tilt my head back, marveling at the books and scrolls stacked along every wall from the floor to the very high ceiling. My mouth is open in awe as I turn back to Sabina. “It’s an honor to meet you. You have the best job!”
Kem chuckles, and Sabine’s smile is bright. “I think so, yes. The King mentioned you might have some books you’d like copied?”
In my panic, every book I’ve ever coveted leaves my brain. Sabine laughs. “It’s okay. Just send a list when you’ve compiled one.”
I nod, my gaze wandering around the room again. Oh, the stories on these shelves.
Warmth presses into my back, and Kem’s fingers flex as he nudges me toward the door. “Let’s get you fed, Mate. Later, we can work on your list of books.”
I can’t help but look over my shoulder as we enter the hall, and Kem practically has to pull me away from the scribe’s room. “That is … spectacular. Your own scribe. Right here.”
“And of course, there’s the library. The largest in the Realm. You’re welcome to borrow any book you want. A perk of being human. No need to wait for a copy.”
That’s true. Books and sex are two huge tics in the human column. My lips pull up in a teasing smile as Kem strides through a tall set of open doors. Still holding my hand, Kem leads me into the vast dining hall. Long wooden tables stretch the length of the room. A couple dozen people sit scattered among the tables in a mix of chairs and benches. The rumble of voices grinds to a halt as Kem crosses the room, me in tow. Every head bows before going back to their meals and conversations.
Kem pulls out a chair for me at a table with three others seated down its length. I sink into the wood seat, all too aware of my sweaty dress, and probably messy hair. But nobody seems to take notice; they simply bow to me before going back to their meals.
I tilt my head back to look up his towering body as Kem’s palm caresses my shoulder, sliding down my arm.
“I’ll go get us food. I’ll be right back.”
My brows pinch. Wouldn’t the King be served his food? Why is he getting his own plate?
A man sitting across from me chuckles, and I whip my head toward him. He pulls a piece of meat off his fork with his teeth, talking around the mouthful of food. “Kemremir likes to do things for himself. We tried for years to serve him, but eventually we gave up. He’s as stubborn as he is strong.”
I glance over my shoulder, catching Kem laughing with a crimson-haired man who scoops some kind of sauce onto both plates Kem holds in his hands. Turning back to the man before me, I smile. “I like that.”
The man sitting two seats down on my left chuckles. “Aye. We do as well, now that we’re used to it.”
I smile at him, and he bows. “I’m Bran.”
Ah, so this sky-blue man belongs to Syphe. His leather cuff looks worn and loved. His doesn’t have the copper banding that Syphe’s does. Instead, delicate copper and blue threads create a pattern of two dancing dragons—him and Syphe. My throat burns with the urge to cry at the beauty of their bond.
As if thinking her name summoned her, Syphe crosses the hall, throwing her leg over the bench where her mate sits, pressing a kiss to his lips before he slides a plate before her. “My love.”
She grabs her fork, spearing a roasted vegetable and bringing it between her lips. “You are too good to me.”
Bran presses another kiss to her lips, licking the oil and spice from her mouth. “And don’t you forget it.”
She hums. “Never.”
The man across the table chuckles. “Okay you two, take it to your rooms if you can’t keep it in your pants.” Syphe flings a roll at him, and he catches it one handed, biting into it, releasing the sweet and sour aroma into the air. He looks at me with a smile, his pale yellow hair falling over his eyes. “I’m Undreth, another of the King’s guards along with Syphe and Hiti here.” He stabs a thumb toward the cerulean-haired woman sitting a few places down to his right. She nods at me, but remains silent as she focuses back on her meal.
A plate slides before me, and Kem sits to my right. “Undreth, you already causing trouble?”
“No.”
