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Merlon groaned again. “I will come. Just…” Turning away, he sighed heavily and gathered up his few tools, stashing them in his personal storage. “I will come.”
All the tension and bluster of before had drained from my cousin. I didn’t know if it was because the healing tired him or something else changed during the process. A slight sag to his shoulders hinted at the former, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Come and visit,” I said.
He tensed.
“I mean, when it is convenient for you, visit. Kate will want to express her thanks.”
Merlon nodded once before leaving, closing the door behind him.
Pressing Kate’s lax fingers to my lips, I closed my eyes and drank in the scent of her skin. When had it begun? The transition from fascination to emotional attachment had slipped by me without my noting it. As I watched the rise and fall of my wife’s breathing and listened to the steady beat of her heart, I wondered at how important to me she had become.
When we were apart, I longed to be closer. While in her presence, I craved her thoughts and her touch. Everything within me wanted to be near her constantly. I rested my forehead against my forearm. If not for the constant demands of my kingdom, I would’ve indulged these impulses. But I couldn’t. So many needed me. I groaned against the frustration.
Growing up, I had heard the stories. Fated mates, shadow elves supernaturally attached to their spouses, were spoken of with reverence or scorn. Most spoke against fated mates and warned me that as a king indulging in such a union would cause dangerously split loyalties. However, I had observed Casimir’s attachment to his wife and seen other couples so connected that their happiness intertwined. They embodied joint loyalty, not split. Together, they were stronger.
I studied the lines of my wife’s profile in the darkening room. I was falling for her sweet selflessness, her gentle spirit, and the quiet strength of her resolve. Kate’s acceptance of me, my burdens, and the complexities of becoming my queen without a single murmured complaint baffled and humbled me.
Although she kept acting as though I had done her a favor by marrying her, I knew the truth. It had not been my sacrifice, but hers. Turning her limp hand over, I kissed her palm. It was a sacrifice I would happily repay the rest of my life. Together we would be stronger than apart.
Chapter Sixteen
Kate
The midmorning light flooded the garden in an ethereal glow, thanks to the slowly dissipating fog. Great topiaries of magical creatures rose from the haze. Splashes of color peeked through the hazy mist, hinting at the plants’ full glory. Fairy lights glowed beneath bushes, offering a partial glimpse of what the whole would look like that night. Because of the endless dedication of the gardening and landscaping staff, as well as a few additional helpers borrowed from the household staff, the gardens were stunning.
“Some of the path edges need trimming,” Master Bower informed me. “Also, a few of the plants need extra care.”
“It is phenomenal. I love the lights and the colors. All of you have far exceeded my expectations.”
Master Bower’s cheeks flushed almost as red as his hair. “We will have the last touches done before the guests arrive in the afternoon.” His voice wavered suspiciously, making me wonder if he was choking up.
Over the past week, I learned that the gruff gnome hid a soft personality beneath his intimidating exterior. And should he get too standoffish with me, all I had to do was compliment him, and he quickly turned to mush. Once his ears turned red though, he had to excuse himself. I suspected he hid so he could regain his composure before returning. Either way, the two of us had grown into an understanding.
“Thank you, Master Bower.” I surveyed the primary avenue of gravel paths and long pools surrounded by festive flowerbeds. “This is even better than I envisioned.”
“You provided the inspiration, my queen. We only attempted to bring it to life.”
An exuberant burst of barking announced the arrival of Sable. She bounded down the path from the stables. A swift black splotch in the lifting mist, she darted between topiaries, avoiding the flowerbeds as she capered toward us. Over the past week, she had grown at an astonishing rate. Kori explained that the twilight elves had probably suspended her growth magically, and now she was making up for lost time.
With a joyful bark, Sable bounded over the last row of flowers between us and came to a skidding halt in front of Master Bower and me.
Bright intelligence enlivened her brown eyes as she gazed from my face to the gardener’s and back. Not that she needed to move her head much to meet the gnome’s gaze. In the short time Sable had been with us, she had grown from an armful to standing so her shoulders were level with my knees. Kori predicted she would stand with her head as tall as my ribs by the time she stopped growing. Apparently, Grimms were large dogs.
“All ready to play?” Master Bower asked Sable as he reached out to rub the top of her head. Despite the rough beginning, tolerance had grown between them as I worked with the gnome.
“I will take her for a romp soon,” I promised. “But first, I have to speak with the stablemaster about the keeping of the horses.”
Sable whined softly as she wagged her tails. They whipped the gravel, stirring up a small dust cloud.
“Yes, you can come too,” I assured her. Turning to the gnome at my side, I offered my thanks again.
“Anything to present the best face to the nobles.” He bowed, removing his cap to reveal a mass of bushy red hair. “The last thing you need to be concerned about is the gardens.”
I said farewell and headed toward the stables, but before I had reached the turn of the path, Favian stepped out of a shadow and joined me as I walked. About as tall as my husband, his shaggy dark hair held traces of silver, making me wonder at his age. Scars marred his copper-toned skin, but all other signs of age were absent.
“Most of the elves are arriving by wraithwalking or are being escorted by a wraithwalker. Only a few will arrive via horseback or in carriages,” Favian observed.
