She broke the kiss, trying to catch her breath. “I want you,” she half-sobbed, half-laughed. “I want this, whatever this is, for as long as I remain.” Words failed her now as she plunged along, trying to explain. “I want to explore you, to touch you, to know you, to have you know me. Please, Verice.” She was more than willing to plead for this. “I know I won’t be more than a flower in your garden, but please—”
He kissed her again, cutting off her words, and she moaned against him, sensations swirling around her like a tempest. Only one real thought remained. She’d be a brief moment of pleasure to him, that was certain.
But she’d love him for a lifetime, and beyond.
It meant separation, it meant having him, and losing him. So be it.
Even those thoughts scattered as his hands stroked her through her dress, and rational thought fled. She was lost in the wonders of his mouth, his touch, and a burning craving that flushed her skin.
He broke the kiss, his voice hoarse in her ear. “Warna, are you certain? Because—”
Warna rested her head against his, and nodded. “I talked to Evie, and asked her to make certain that I can’t get pregnant. She’s taken care of that with her magic.” Warna swallowed hard, leaning back to catch his eye. “Verice,” she whispered “Please.”
A shadow crossed over him then, but it was gone in an instant, and something else burned there. She caught her breath.
“It would be my honor,” Verice said, and the tightness in her chest eased.
“Here?” She trembled with longing, and a touch of fear. “Now?”
“No.” Verice closed his eyes. “If you don’t think there are more eyes on us now than there ever were at the elven court, you are mistaken.” He darted in for a kiss, startling her as his tongue flicked out to lick her mouth. But he rose just as fast, and pulled her to her feet.
“Come,” Verice said. “Let’s see about getting you what you want.”
Narthing stared atthe ceiling of his small, clean prison and sighed. “Ersal,” he said patiently. “You have many skills. Chess is not one of them.”
Ersal sat opposite him, staring at the board and its pieces. “Just give me a moment,” he said.
He’d appeared with lunch, bearing the set, and challenged Narthing to a game. Narthing had welcomed the lunch, his first real, solid food, and the company. But after one game it was fairly clear there wasn’t going to be much of a challenge involved.
Ersal continued to study the board.
Narthing huffed out a breath. “It’s mate in three moves,” he pointed out.
“It can’t be,” Ersal said. “How so?”
Narthing reached over, and showed him.
Ersal shook his head in defeat. “Another,” he said, setting up the board.
“Fine. But talk to me,” Narthing said, waiting for Ersal’s first move. “What’s the word on m’lord and m’lady?”
“How can I talk and play at the same time?” Ersal said, reaching out to place a finger on his pawn and hesitated. Then he slid it along the board and sat back in satisfaction.
Narthing folded his arms over his chest.
Ersal rolled his eyes. “Lady Warna has been released by the healers, and I believe she’s asked to speak to m’lord.”
“Ah,” Narthing said. “I wonder what that means.”
“Nothing.” Dominic breezed in with a tray. “Drink this,” he commanded.
Narthing took the cup, eyeing it with trepidation. Dominic’s medicines were as sweet as his personality. “Must I?”
“No, of course not,” Dominic said. “As an adult, intelligent mael, you’re free to ignore all of my treatments and advice and endure the consequences as you see fit. Or take my advice, drink the tea, and perhaps be released from my care as early as tomorrow.”
“When you put it that way.” Narthing rolled his eyes and drank the cup down in three quick swallows. The bitterness almost closed his throat. “Why do you say ‘nothing’?” he forced out.
“Please.” Dominic sniffed as he took the cup. “She’s too common for a lord high baron. If there’s any interest on his part, it’s for a fling, surely. Nothing serious—”
