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“I love you, Meina,” I say. “You’ve been my friend longer than anyone, and I know I can trust you. Don’t worry, you aren’t losing me anytime soon. It’s just…there’s something I have to keep to myself, just for now. Do we have a messenger we could send to the elf king?”
She nods. “Of course. Do you want me to take dictation?”
“No. This needs to be composed by my own hand. I know he’s already on his way, and will be here today, but I’m afraid it cannot wait. I want him intercepted on the road. Will you send the messenger in half an hour?”
She curtsies, sensing that she’s being dismissed. “Yes, my lady,” she says, and withdraws through the doorway.
Half an hour later, I’ve composed what I hope is a delicate political missive. It will at the least, I hope, buy me some time.
My apologies to the elven king, Custevale, but I cannot any longer agree to marry him. Vague insinuations that this is simply not the right time, and promises that as soon as the current crisis is over, I will reconsider. Thanking him for his generous offer to bring our people closer together, and hopes that we can continue to be allies despite the need to postpone our nuptials. Perhaps, all things considered, he should return to Lainsfair rather than continuing on to Aramoth. Sincerely—I crossed my fingers as I wrote that, since I wasn’t sure I’d written a single sincere word on the page—Princess Calliope.
There’s a knock on my door, just as I sign my name, and I rub the back of my hand where it’s been in shadow, holding it closer to the nearest candle flame to thaw the joints.
“Come in.”
“Your highness, I was asked to attend upon you for a letter?” A young man I don’t recognize, in the livery of the castle servants, enters the room.
“Yes, that’s right. I have it right here. Were you told that you’re to deliver it to the elven king? You are to ride out and meet them immediately.”
He nods as he waits for me to seal the letter with wax, then takes it from me.
“Custevale himself,” I tell him. “Nobody else is to see this. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your highness.” He bows and turns around, heading out through the door, and I glance at the candelabra.
There are at least a couple of hours left in the candles already there, but still. I know exactly where a full crate of them are in the cellar. Will anyone wonder at my going back there? Perhaps. But will they dare challenge me when I insist that I want everything to be perfect for the elf delegation? I don’t think so.
“Rian?” I whisper into the dark corners of the cellar, its golden beams shining in the candlelight. “Rian, it’s me.”
I almost squeal with delight when the crates and barrels piled against one wall begin to shift, and he steps out from behind them as if they’re a door. He grins at my face and takes a little bow, the movement looking strangely comical on his hulking frame.
“Your majesty,” he says.
“Stop that.” I laugh as I step over to him and wrap my arms as far as they’ll go around his waist. The rough leather over his chest against the side of my head. His earthy scent swirling around me.
God, how I’ve longed for this.
How I’ve dreamt of us being able to touch, and all the time we could have been together, right here. So it’s not exactly opulent, but I don’t care about that. It’s ours.
“Calliope,” he says, and a shiver runs through me at the sound of my name on his lips. “My senses. Whatever Odette did to me, it brought forth the body and traits and senses of my ancient orc ancestors. I can scent…” He draws a breath through his nose as if demonstrating. “I can scent your body’s time. You are fertile. It drives me…” He growls but shakes his head. “It drives me to insanity, but it makes me want to protect you, to make sure you’re looking after yourself. I spent all night.”
I narrow my eyes. “You spent all night doing what?”
He wraps his enormous hand into mine, and leads me behind the crates he just stepped out from, and I gasp when I see it. A table, laid for two, with candles and torches illuminating the space in a warm low glow, one huge chair and one smaller and cushioned. There are dishes filled with oysters and mussels from the Dennith coast, dark green spinach, red meat, beans, nuts.
“You did all this for me?”
He nods. “You need iron. This body…” As his hands run up and down my shoulders, I shiver. “It’s mine to take care of, Calliope. Come on, I’ll bring the table inside and we can eat together.”
