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“Marriage day.” The phrase falls from her lips like a stone sinking to the bottom of a well.
“Yes.”
“And you thought to tell me this, when? In front of the priestess?”
“A priestess cannot marry a deve.”
She slaps my bicep and I flinch.
“That is not the point,” she hisses. “How can you not even have the decency to be chagrinned?”
“You’re right. I am not . . .chagrinnedbecause I have no idea what that is.”
She makes to strike me again, but I get a hold of her wrist. “Uh, uh. I’m to be your husband. Violence is not appropriate.”
Okay, so maybe I’m taunting her now. But with my balls freshly emptied, there’s not a lot that can ruin my mood.
She yanks against my grip, saying, “Oh, but you said you loved me for my thirst for revenge.”
“And your sarcasm. Don’t forget that.”
“Luka, this isn’t funny.”
I lower my forehead to hers, almost expecting her to head butt me. “I know.” She tries to avert her mouth from mine, but I follow her to insist on the kiss. “I will try to do better.”
Her body relaxes and I take my chance to continue kissing her. “Do you promise?” she finally pants in between brushes of our lips and tongues.
“I do promise, my sweetest one.” I almost apologize but fear it will set a pattern in our marriage that I’ll grow weary of quickly. Instead I decide to use my trump card. “I have something for you actually.”
In the low light, she appears suspicious. “You think to buy my obedience with gifts? You know I was not all that impressed with the cloak. You didn’t even bother to give it to me yourself.”
That makes me pause. I didn’t present her with it, did I? A mistake I won’t make again. “Do not pretend you don’t like the cloak,” I shoot back, sitting up to reach for my vest. “I caught you petting the pelts too many times to count on the ride here.”
She gives me a little harrumphing noise that makes me smile.
“But I think you’ll like this one. Though it’s not a gift exactly,” I say, holding it out to her. Satisfaction swells my chest at her reaction.
“My mother’s ring!” She takes it, sitting up to inspect it in the light as if to confirm its authenticity. She looks to me. “Where did you find it?”
Some of the satisfaction flows away. “Why are you crying?”
“Why do you think?” She starts to fit the ring onto her finger, but pauses. “May I wear it?”
I frown. “Of course.”
“I mean in the open. Where people can see it?”
My poor little raven. The Fates really haven’t been kind to her. “Yes, my sweet. You can.” I take hold of her hand and pull her knuckles back to my mouth for a kiss, this time it includes the ring. From there, I work my way up her arm and soon passion flares between us again.
Later, we sup on bread, cheese, and apples on our furs, sitting across from each other. I’m admiring the play of the firelight over her bare breasts when she says, “Luka?”
Languidly, I meet her eyes. “Yes?”
“I want you to know how very sorry I am about your uncle. If I had known –”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “You were not responsible for his actions, Rina.”
“I know.” She picks at her bread. “But he was youruncle.”
