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He wiped his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief and watched closely as the armorer measured Nava’s waist, the length of her torso, and the stretch of her arms, muttering subdued comments that not even Arkimedes’s enhanced hearing could discern at this distance.
The armorer, Gallon, was an unassuming Dark Fae. He had a lithe build and smaller wings than the guards. His magic hadn’t presented as strongly as most fae of his kind, yet his true gift lay in crafting protective spells for the armor he built.
“I don’t have enough time to make the right chest plate for Miss Nava, Your Highness,” Gallon said, shaking his head as the corners of his lips tilted down. His tone was harsher than most would dare to use with Arkimedes. But he’d visited this dungeon enough times to like the male, sharp edges and all.
“Do what you can, Gallon. The most important part will be to deflect the Zorren’s claws and guard against the heat.”
Nava’s skin turned a few shades paler with every word he spoke. Sucking her lips in between her teeth, she traced her small hand over her ribs.
Gallon’s eyes shifted from him to Nava, before he spoke with a softer tone. “We haven’t had a queen in thirty years, sir. I won’t send her there with subpar armor. This is not the Iron Kingdom. We have standards here.”
Arkimedes’s lips twitched, and it took all his restraint to beat his smile back into submission. This was not the time to find something funny. In fact, they probably wouldn’t return, but he wouldn’t voice those thoughts for Nava to hear. Last time they’d met the emissary, only luck had saved them.
The armorer shuffled away in silence, taking with him all his parchment scraps of notes and scribbles. He selected a new chest plate from one of the floor-to-ceiling cases on his way out.
Now that they were alone, Nava’s frustration and fear came through their bond with increasing intensity. He reached for her hand. “Is this the first time you’re getting proper armor fitted?”
Nava grabbed his hand with clammy, stiff fingers. “Yes. I-I’ve worn armor before, usually when I trained with my mother, but it’s been a while.” She tried to smile, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “Wouldn’t metal make the heat of fire worse?”
“Gallon has a gift for casting spells onto metal. Earlier in the year, he created a special spell that helped us while investigating the fires.” Arkimedes touched her cheek and caressed her soft skin until the pad of his finger met her bottom lip.
Her breaths stuttered just as she met his eyes, and the world around them fell away.
Arkimedes didn’t need to read her thoughts to know she feared the same thing he did. They had no way of knowing how many demons Leir would bring through the portal this time around.
He swallowed against the suffocating pressure building in his chest and stepped closer to her. These were the last few minutes of peace they would have in a while, and the intensity of his need to be near her, to touch her, was as great as the fear that threatened to paralyze him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered and placed her hand over his heart. But the thick copper plate blocked the warmth of her touch.
“Like what?”
“Like we won’t return.”
If only he could lie to her. But the weapon they had to steal from Leir had disintegrated trees with each of his swings. None of the guards would be able to wield it long enough to kill the emissary. And if either of them managed to steal it instead, the poison would probably kill them within a few days. That was, if they even survived the fight that followed.
But going into battle without hope was a surefire way to seal their fate, and he wouldn’t bring that upon his soulmate. No, he would fight for her with everything he had.
“What you did in the gold room was a marvel to witness, Bee. Your power goes far beyond what we imagined. I can’t believe you could contact Aristaeus from the castle.”
Nava narrowed her eyes, her lips tightening into a small pout. “You’re changing the subject.”
“I can’t lie to you and claim we will be fine, but I can point out our strengths to give us hope,” he said. A warm glow of pride spread in his chest, dulling the ache building there. “I believe you have untapped power. Let’s see what it can do for us while we’re in the forest.”
Her lips parted with understanding. She was so beautiful inside and out. Powerful. Everything he shouldn’t deserve.
One of his shadows billowed out on his side, the clear profile of a male flickering in and out of view. “And she is ours to protect.”
“Fuck those who try to take her from us,” another whispered, and for once, Arkimedes couldn’t agree more.
Gallon came into the room an hour later with a stack of armor pieces inside his arms and glistening with sweat. “I have adapted one of the consorts’ breastplates. I believe this shall work.”
Arkimedes stepped away, giving Gallon enough space to fit her properly.
Nava lifted her arms, as she’d been doing for most of the afternoon, while Gallon tightened a thick leather corset around her torso. Then he draped lightweight chainmail over her head that the fae had developed during their last war with the gods. Finally, he affixed the copper breastplate.
Nava touched the hammered metal. It was usually shiny, but in this case, Gallon had beat it into shape during the little time they had left, lending it a dull patina.
“It’s not as heavy as I thought it would be,” she said.
