“Let me handle it,” he said, squeezing my leg. “Have you checked on the heirs today?”
I dipped my chin, brows raised, and waited, refusing to give in to his diversion.
He scoffed, then shook his head before reaching past me to snag a stack of papers. He nudged the paperweight aside and handed them over. “You won’t find much.”
“Do you doubt my powers of deduction?” I fluttered my lashes, hugging the stack to my chest.
“I never said that.” A low rumble left him as he settled back with his kahve. His gaze darkened, roaming over me. “If they rival your powers of seduction, the reports don’t stand a chance.”
I leaned in, slow, deliberate, tongue brushing my lip before I spoke. His hungry stare tracked the motion, nostrils flaring as if he couldn’t breathe. A twitch pulled at his cheek near his eye; a helpless tell.
“And to think I’m not even trying,” I whispered.
He hauled me onto his lap. I yelped as papers scattered, his fingers threading into my hair, grip firm as his mouth claimed mine. The kiss bruised, all hunger and command.
“Good?” His question was a breathless hiss, lost in his assault, the fracture in his armor cracking wide open.
I didn’t bother to respond with words; instead, I shifted my legs and ground against him, our mantles tangling between us.
His groan vibrated through our kiss, undoing me. My heart slammed against my ribs as my lips curved into his. No other woman held such sway over him. I was the one he risked his kingdom for. His weakness. The only one who could take the mighty Golden Warrior and elicit such a sound from his throat.
His grip tightened on my thigh, repositioning me. My palms pressed to his shoulders as I met his smoldering stare. Our breaths tangled. We knew exactly where this was going.
I tried my best to appear composed, pretending the half-hour I’d spent delivering a drink to my husband hadn’t left me flushed, and that Greaves and Claus couldn’t have overheard anything through the door.
There was a quiet satisfaction in rebuilding oneself after a scandalous encounter. A slow, methodical intimacy in the small rituals of recovery. Kallias fixed my hair while I smoothed the chains on his mantle. He adjusted my dress; I patted down the strands I’d clutched in the heat of passion.
Our bodies remained uncharted territory, and we were mapping each other with every touch, mouth, and lip. Testing limits, discovering pleasure, watching restraint snap like a dam before our eyes.
My cheeks burned with pleasant warmth as I made my way back to my rooms, preparing to clean up before visiting the heirs. They weren’t expecting me, I reminded myself. I wasn’t late. This was my plan alone.
Kallias let me dictate my days without interference. That freedom felt strange. I had been a princess, bound to rigid schedules. Now I commanded my time, others waiting on my beck and call.
Edith rose as I entered, leaving Claus at the door. She moved quietly, helping me change into clothes suitable for chasing children around dragons. The heirs loved the beasts, and if I could give them a reprieve from their rooms and drag them into the fresh air, I would.
They had free rein of the palace, but only when escorted by a Thresher. That kept them in their chambers, too intimidated by the warriors to venture out on their own. Kallias treated them like treasures, protecting them until their parents or guardians returned.
“Are you feeling alright?” my handmaid asked as I prepared to leave.
I paused, frowning. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re flushed.”
“Edith.” I laughed, brushing my cheeks as if to cool the warmth. “You know very well why.”
She swallowed, ducking her head. The old woman never married, having served under my mother before me, but she understood why I looked as though I’d run a race.
“Please, do tell me if you begin to feel poorly.”
But seeing me whisked away, left alone in Radaan, knowing Gyrak should never have made it home—it wore her down. Coupled with being left behind while Freya attended me on the road, she must have felt awful.
“Thank you, Edith.” I waited until her eyes met mine, offering the smile of the little girl she had always guided, corrected, and protected.
Upon meeting my gaze, all tension melted from her expression.
When I entered the children’s rooms, they sat at a large table, quills in hand, absorbed in lessons. At my approach, they all rose, faces lighting with bright, eager smiles.
“Good day to you all,” I called.
