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“It explains so much,” she spoke softly to her white hands, folded like birds around the glass in her lap. “He’s always so angry with me. No wonder, if he thinks I don’t listen.”
My heart bled for her a little. After the prince rescued the princess, the happily ever after wasn’t supposed to include infanticide and marital disharmony. Nobody brought up the subject of who might be running interference. Nobody needed to.
“Well then!” Blackbird stood, brushing off her dress with crisp movements, setting the whiskey aside. “I have guests to see to. Starling, are you with me or your mistress?”
Starling shot me a hopeful look and I tipped my head toward the ballroom or, at least, toward the general direction of the music. She danced off happily, already shedding the somber mood.
“And you, my lady Gwynn?” Rogue asked, sliding sensual fingers through my hair. “Are you for dancing?”
I really wasn’t in the mood for partying. Divining my unspoken wish, Rogue uncoiled his long body from the settee and offered me his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. We walked through the empty castle, the music growing fainter behind us as we headed up to our shared rooms.
“Any observations?” I finally asked.
“Interesting.”
“That’s all?”
He smiled down at me. “I thought it was your favorite word.”
“You eavesdrop too much.”
“Ah, but Gwynn, you are an endless source of fascination.”
“Did you see the bit at the end—that kind of cord around her memory of the baby and how it went off elsewhere?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t follow you there.”
“You were prevented.”
He shrugged and that confirmed it. Rogue should have more than enough ability to do anything that I did, and more. He’d seen enough to know what I was asking about, but had less luck than I penetrating that oily murk.
We’d reached our rooms and Rogue took the brandy glass from my hand and set it on the table next to the nearly empty cylinder of green gack.
“What was that stuff anyway?
“Ambrosia.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“Could I?” He caressed my cheek and ran warm fingers down my throat and over my collarbone. “It seems you are exceedingly difficult to fool.”
“Well, shame on me and all that…” I caught my breath when he stroked the exposed upper curves of my breasts. “This isn’t really the right time for seduction.”
“Of course it is. We can hardly sail over the Endless Sea right this moment. Even for me, that takes time to arrange.”
“Aha—you saw that much.”
“I did,” he confirmed, then took my hand and drew me toward the bedroom. “I have a brilliant idea.”
Somehow I knew this inspiration had nothing to do with following Fergus on his quest.
Though the bedchamber was airy, high-ceilinged and ringed with arched windows, the bed still predominated. Not black like Rogue’s, it nevertheless sported four posts, made of spiraling gold vines. The bedclothes shimmered bronze and copper in the low torchlight. Then dark green silk ribbons appeared on each post and I groaned.
“No, Rogue. Just…no.”
“Not for you—not unless you beg sweetly. For me.” He toed off his boots and sprawled on the bed, arms and legs spread. “Tie me up, lovely Gwynn. Have your way with me.”
“Don’t be silly. You could easily break or wish away any knot I make.”
