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Another squeeze.
But did he? Marriages tied houses together, to be certain, but so did sheer desperation. Oh gods, this was awful.
Sebian patted and wiped in slow, tender motions, revealing the inflamed lines where the bleeding had slowed. “Just as soon as we get our Raven, Lord Brisden can have his beloved daughter back.”
Beloved daughter.Whatever he’d put in that damned tea to calm my nerves had been too much, because a giggle pushed past my lips as if I wasn’t fucking done for.
Sebian’s hand stalled, and his narrowed eyes found mine. “You have doubts that your father will agree to this exchange?”
Absolutely. “Not in the slightest.”
Satisfied by my response, Sebian once more focused on my wounds. “He cut deep, but clean.”
“So this, um… Raven my father is holding?” I asked, the wound all but forgotten against the premise of my ordeal. “Who exactly is he?”
“She. Marla is Captain Asker’s bonded mate.”
She. So it was only a woman, but…
“Bonded mate?” My lessons with Risa had never mentioned such a thing—nor anything else about his kind, really. Because it wasn’t necessary for me to know about these things, Mother had always said, and Father… well, he hadn’t cared. “Is that like a wife?”
He arched a brow at me as though I lacked common knowledge. “Ravens have fated mates, chosen for us by our goddess herself to bond with for eternity.”
Woman. Wife. Mate.
Equally worthless to Father.
“How can you even be certain she’s still alive?”
“Asker’s unkindness is still in full plume,” he said. “If she was dead, his ravens would rip their feathers out in grief.”
Relief finally broke through my dulled panic. Gods be good, this exchange was a done deal! They might as well ready me a carriage and cart me back home. Or to my wedding feast. The latter was preferable.
“Father will comply.” Perhaps he held that woman for no other reason than to taunt the captain of the Raven army. Nothing but a trifling gibe in the shadow of my betrothal. Though one issue remained… “Can I meet this Captain Asker? Assure him of my father’s need for this exchange? If I do, surely, he will somehow interfere with Malyr on my behalf?”
“Asker answers to Malyr, not the other way around.”
My shoulders slouched. No, of course not. Alas, Mother had once again been correct in one of her assessments, hadn’t she? Malyr was no lord.
“He’s a Khysal.”
“The last one.” Sebian dipped the clean side of the rag into the water, then set to work on my chin. “He’s King Omaniel and Queen Elnora’s son.”
“Prince Malyr of House Khysal.” I looked down at my chest, heat flushing through my veins, amplifying the pounding beneath the cuts. Angry-red lines came together in the shape of a raven sitting on a skull.He’d carved his sigil into me.How could Prince Domren ever find love for a wife carrying the permanent mark of his enemy? “This can’t get any worse.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, it can.” Sebian gave a tug on my chin, lifting my gaze to his so he may wipe the blood from my mouth. “Don’t provoke Malyr; don’t draw more of his attention to you than you already have.”
“I never wanted his attention to begin with.” It was too intense, too overwhelming, too… unfamiliar. When the cloth reached the cut on my mouth, I sucked in a breath. “Ouch.”
Sebian’s deep, masculine groan answered, vibrating the air between us. At first, I took it for annoyance over my squeamishness, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be.
Not with how he gentled his touch, squinting at my lip with greater focus as he licked his own. “He… cut your lip. Interesting.”
Lick the knife, Galantia.
My breath stalled for a moment at the memory of how the blade had nipped me, carving a reaction from my body that went against all sense and sanity. More concerning was that thrill returning to my belly, making me shift on the chair.
“There’s something very strange in your scent,” Sebian said, and whatever did that mean? “In any case, you’re all cleaned up, sweetheart.”
