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Her lips press into a disapproving line. “But it becomes rare when it’s combined with his consideration. Just like . . .” She trails off and instead of finishing her sentence, she picks up her cup and drinks deeply.
“Just like what?” I prompt, taking the cup from her hand.
“Just like my new dress. Thank you, Luka.”
“You’re welcome, my little raven.”
A throat clearing interrupts us. “My deve, a’deve,” a thin woman says, her body almost bent double with her show of respect. I don’t recognize her or the raggedly-dressed child beside her.
“Yes?” Rina inquires politely.
“I wonder if my daughter and I may present you with a gift, my a’deve?”
“Oh, ah, I . . . yes, of course you can.”
The woman chooses to focus only on Rina as she lifts the girl onto the dais, probably because I’m irritated with another disruption. With shaking hands, the child places what appears to be a woven circle on the table before retreating to her mother’s arms.
“Oh,” Rina says, another one of her smiles breaking like the dawn. “Did you crochet this yourself?”
“Yes, my lady.” The woman peeks furtively in the direction of the hearth, then in a low voice that barely carries, tears welling, she adds, “I thank you with all my heart.”
I feel Rina about to rise to go to the woman, but I clamp my hand down on her thigh to keep her in place. “Luka,” she says through gritted teeth. “Let me up.”
Despite my grip on her, she manages to slide her chair back and force me to either make a scene or do as she wants. This woman! She listens about as well as a deaf mule, I think darkly, watching her go around the table and embrace the woman. They talk in soft undertones while I scan the room like a hawk, not liking one bit that Rina’s opened her flank to attack. Eldon gives me a nod and so does Noé, telling me they’re monitoring the situation as well. It doesn’t ease my mind in the least because already the ale is flowing and the room is getting louder and more raucous. When she returns to her seat, I’m ready to let her feel the sharp edge of my tongue until I see there are tears on her lashes.
“That poor woman,” Rina seethes, glaring daggers in Cayson’s direction. “How many more days until you end that despicable excuse for a man?”
“Four,” I say from between clenched teeth. “But that does not excuse your disobedience.”
“Children,” my mother says in low voice. “That’s enough. Eat your dinner before it gets cold. You can make up later in your room.”
I lean down to Rina’s ear. “Oh, you’ll be making it up to me, guaranteed.”
She’s on the verge of lobbing a retort at me when she notices something in the room. I follow her gaze to where Bron and Ion have their heads together.
“You,” Rina accuses me, drawing the word out. “Well, I see now why you so readily agreed to let me go to the baths with Ion.”
“I let you go because Ion is a loyal, well-trained warrior.”
She laughs, and I’m not at all sure I like the way she’s appraising me now, as if a new light is showing her things she’s never seen before. “It has nothing to do with those eyes he’s making at Bron, then?”
“Don’t be crude, princess. As far as I know, they have a long-standing relationship.” I stab at the meat on my plate. “And don’t think you can distract me from your careless disregard of my wishes.”
“I’m sure we can work on fulfilling your wishes later,” she says sweetly before we’re interrupted again by more of her admirers, this time the two stable boys. By the end of the night, she’s collected a motley assortment of junk and Lorna has to bring her a small basket to carry it all.
Overall the night turns out to be like any other. The drunken laughter is loud, the warriors are vulgar, and a couple of scuffles break out, but other than Cayson in the very beginning, no one openly disrespects Rina. Except maybe our ancient, dour priest, but he’d been mostly indifferent when he’d presented himself at the dais and I’d introduced Rina. But whatever. With one foot already on the pyre, he’s long had limited influence in the realm.
Despite the evening being a success, it leaves me inexplicably irritable; horny, jealous, possessive. Even I’m surprised by the depth of my need for her attention, for her smiles to be for me, not to mention her consoling embraces and her tears – all of it should be mine.
As soon as the door to my chamber is shut behind us, I have her against it, my palm splayed against her breast bone. Seizing the basket from her, I drop it to the floor and shove it away with my boot.
“Do you have something you need to say, Luka?” she has the nerve to ask. I wonder if there’s as much fire in my expression as there is in hers.
My jaw works from side to side. “I wouldn’t be so quick to challenge me.”
Her hands go to work on the buckles of my vest, adding weight to my already raging hard-on. “Or maybe,” she whispers, biting at her full bottom lip as her hands slip beneath my shirt. “You love it when I challenge you.”
I shiver as her fingertips lightly trace over the muscles of my abdomen. Leaning down to her neck, I inhale her scent and my cock jerks as if it’s starving for her, because it is . . . I am. The thought beats back my lust. I cannot be burying myself in her cunt. What if I’m forced to put her aside but she carries my child? Or what if I end up dead in a challenge and can’t protect her or a child?
