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“And why you kept sneaking into the warrens to watch her sleep and protect her from the creeping spiders?”
I grunted in agreement. “He plays a dangerous game, though. If any of the nobles put the pieces together that he knowingly enslaved and raped a Fae, there could be civil war as well. That goes against his sacred oath. And while I would not put it past him to violate even that low bar of leadership, if it was brought before others and they connected that piece, he would be invested into the Tears for sure.”
Silver groaned. “This web is getting too tangled for me, Captain. Can I go build a fishing cabin and make a sweet cottage wife of my seafoam?”
“Take me with you.”
“She said you’re too big.”
I snorted. “Of course she did. And of course you’ve already spoken to her about me.”
“To be entirely frank, sir, she spoke to me about you. The first thing I learned about selkies was that you listened to them the first time they spoke.”
I smirked at Silvertree, jealous of the harmony he had in his marriage. The two of them came from totally different worlds: he, a born courtier, and she, a wild and free spirit whose only interaction with the Fae had been in nets and on hooks. They had found a tender peace between them, forged in love and understanding. Their marriage was assaulted from all angles, and yet their mutual center was each other. I wondered if I would ever have something like that with Sóna, if she’d ever allow it.
“You’ve turned melancholy again, sir.” Silver interrupted my brooding. “Is the knowledge that our lady Pearl is, in fact, a Fae weighing on you?”
“More like what it could mean for us. If there is even to be an us. And how can we, given our stations and situation, be?”
Silver rolled his shoulders in a careless shrug. “If the gods will it and magic blesses it, then it shall be so. You have but to dig your fingers in and hold on tight until the ride is over. You cannot fight it. You cannot alter it. You can but survive it.”
One side of my lips quirked up in a half-smile, bitter and tainted with sweetness. “I don’t know if I can survive Sóna Mac Raith. Let alone whomever she truly is, and what and who she will be when she discovers that truth about herself.”
“Only one way to find out, sir.”
Chapter 22
Cricket
“My lady, may I enter?” Brittle Spear’s voice called at the tent flap, pulling me from my reverie. The water of my bath had gone cold ages ago, and the tent had fallen to darkness without me even realizing it. I had been locked in my own thoughts, trying in vain to slip beyond the barrier of evergreen eyes and the sizzle of electricity arcing over flushed skin.
“Huh? Yes.”
The sound of the canvas flap slapping closed was followed by a tsking denunciation as he busied himself lighting a brazier near the bed. Its orange flame roared to life and beat back the blackness, doing battle against my mood.
Dark eyes watched me from beneath a cocked brow as he tilted his head left and right, regarding me before letting out another tsk. Nimble fingers began unbuckling his intricate armor and setting it down against the trunk he had moved back. When I opened my mouth to protest, he raised a hand. “I am merely getting comfortable, my lady. While I enjoy my games of the flesh just as much as any other creature of this realm, I am above forcing myself and my presence upon others. I find no joy in false screams of joy nor in struggling against my partner to draw pleasure from them. I could come to enjoy that eventually, but it would be an acquired taste.”
I watched him as he finished shucking his armor like a great clam and came to lean against the tub.
“So, my lady Pearl, tell me. What has you sitting in an ice-cold tub and moping in the black? It could not be something so simple as a little dirt.” He watched me with eyes that held the weight of ages. It was unsettling, his eyes said millennia, but his face said late twenties at best.
“It’s just been an exhausting few weeks. Nothing more,” I said, dismissing his interest. “Where do we go from here? Will your soldiers escort us back to your keep?”
He snorted and pushed off the tub. “Is it this easy with The Raven? You say something silly, and he lets you have your way even if it is detrimental to you?”
“We do less talking and more fighting.”
He tsked again and grinned. “It makes sense why he brought you to me gagged and bound then. But, my dear Pearl, you will not find me as willing to entertain your obstinance, especially when I can see plainly that you suffer for it. So, choose to tell me when I ask, or choose to tell me after I drag it from you. Either way, I will have my answer.”
I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chilled breasts. “I am above forcing myself and my presence on others.” I spat back his own words to him.
A cluck and a grin. “My words sound good in your mouth. If you would like other parts of me there instead, I am happy to oblige.”
I snorted and rose from the icy waters. There was no reason to sit in it anymore. I’d long ago scraped every speck of dirt from my body and done my best to scrape even more, but there was no hope for certain things. Brittle Spear’s hand extended, guiding me out. He produced an embroidered tapestry-like towel from a chest and knelt before me, tenderly drying every bit of me before wrapping me in a rabbit-fur-lined robe.
My heart lurched when every brush of his fingertips felt like a betrayal. It was a sin against the corpse of my bond with Emrys, and yet I couldn’t help but hold my breath. I couldn’t help but indulge the idea that maybe, just maybe, I could make a eulogy out of my moans of pleasure for another. A funeral wouldn’t be a bad place to start.
Legs shaking with the urge to clamp around his waist, I made a calculated retreat only to be swept up in strong arms and pulled bridal style against his chest. “It seems your legs are a bit too chilly still, my lady. Allow me to help you to bed.”
