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'To the Fae'ch,' said Fyia. 'Or, more accurately, to my brother, whom she loves. I had hoped she would help us, but she's made her choice … my brother, not our cause.'
'Ourcause?' said Adigos, his forehead furrowed.
'The Black Hoods have become our allies,' said Fyia.
Adigos half nodded. 'Something was agitating Essa,' he said. 'Something about the clocks … I don't know what, but it seemed serious.'
'You think she's gone to tell my brother all she knows?'
Adigos shrugged. 'Love makes people do stupid things.'
The weighty silence returned. So Adigos loved Fyia, or once had …
Fyia stood. 'We head for Selise, so I may meet with my council. Cal, I would like to discuss details of the treaty between our kingdoms, if you would be amenable?'
'As Your Majesty wishes,' said Cal.
'Please find Cal a cabin,' Fyia said to no one in particular, as she made to leave.
'Your Majesty …' said Adigos, who had sprung to his feet the moment Fyia got to hers.
She rounded on him. 'Yes?'
'I would offer my assistance. I hail from Plenty—as you know—and can provide valuable insights that may help in the construction of a successful treaty … could make it more palatable to our people.'
'Thank you, Adigos. I will summon you if I require an opinion on the views of thecommon-folkof Plenty.'
Fyia didn't bother to hide her jibe. Cal knew not if the term had some special meaning between them, but it was clear Adigos was anything but a man of the people, with his fine clothes and clipped accent.
By the time Cal and Fyia entered Fyia's cabin, a potent mix of emotion poured off her. He clicked the door closed, and Fyia paced to the desk, placed her hands upon it, then paced back, not stopping until she was so close he could see the specks of topaz in her blue eyes.
Since boarding the airship, Cal hadn't thought once about the heads he'd hacked from their bodies, or the attack they'd survived that very morning by the Temple of the Dragon, but seeing her like this … frustrated, disappointed, angry, caged by the actions and expectations of others … it dredged up the same feelings in him. It hit him like a battering ram, perhaps because of the Cruaxee-touch that bonded them, perhaps her magic was acting on him, or maybe it was all his own doing. Whatever the cause, it made him move, and she responded in a heartbeat.
They came together in a frenzy of hands and limbs and mouths, her fingers exploring his newly shaved hair, his arms wrapping her up, pressing her to his chest.
He slid a hand to her backside, as she slid a finger around the shell of his ear. He jerked, once again surprised at how sensitive his scales were to her touch. He groaned into her mouth as she did it again, and pulled her against his hardening cock, his fingers seeking the scale at the base of her spine.
She moaned, then bit his neck, the sharp sting bringing Cal to his senses. Nothing had changed … they were not betrothed … this was still a bad idea.
'Fyia,' he breathed. He placed his hands on her hips, holding her in place.
She moved her mouth back to his lips and kissed him, cupping his face in her hand. 'I know we shouldn't,' she said, pressing her cheek to his, 'but I want to.'
'Marry me,' he said, 'and then we can.' She stilled, and he kissed her gently. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and for a moment, the sensation made him lose all sense of time and space.
'Cal, I …' She pulled back to look him in the eye. 'If we were to marry, I would require an arrangement that would not be … standard.'
Cal frowned in confusion. 'You would wish to take other lovers?'
She smiled. 'That's not what I meant …'
'Then, what?' He couldn't think of a single explanation for her words.
'I won't hand control of my kingdoms to you,' she said. 'I've fought hard for everything I have, and …'
'A husband has that power in your lands?'
Fyia nodded.
