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“Excellent. I’m famished thanks to this one’s ruthless training.” Gillie squeezed my shoulder as he passed, heading inside.
The back of Lonan’s shirt was slightly damp, and he smelled like clean sweat, making my insides clench up with want. I kept my arm around him as I led us inside, the hilt of one of his swords pressing against my shoulder.
“Do you want to have a bath before dinner?” I asked as we stepped inside the palace. I heard Lonan let out a tiny sigh of relief at the slightly cooler air.
“I’ll have it after, if we’re eating alone.” His voice was husky, like he needed some water. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
We ate dinner with Nua and Gillie a few times a week, and on Jora’s day off we invited her to join us. There were other staff here I liked very much, but Jora was my favourite. She’d come out of her shell even more since my coronation, laughing and joking with us as she bustled around and delivered our food. Well, not with Lonan. He didn’t really laugh and joke with anyone but me.
And he was laughing and joking with me less and less every day.
I cleared my throat as we made our way up to our private quarters. “I asked the head cook if he knew any unseelie dishes. I think he nearly stabbed me with his butcher’s knife.”
Lonan let out a tiny huff of amusement, his hand trailing absently over my hip as we walked.
“But he said he’d heard of a few,” I continued, smiling over at Lonan. “So he’s, um, made an unseelie dessert for us.”
Lonan’s dark eyes cut over to me, and he squeezed my hip with a tiny smile. “Thank you.”
“And I asked the head vintner if he had any sweeter wine.” I licked my lips nervously. “In case you wanted some.”
Lonan had begun adding honey to his tea every morning, something he’d never done on unseelie. He rarely drank, but when he did, he’d started favouring the sweeter wine over the ale I preferred.
I felt a flash of guilt over the fact that I was, at least in part, trying to appease him before I dropped the news that Nua and I would be going back to my old home—without him—but it was more than that. I wanted him to be comfortable here. I didn’t want him to miss anything from his old life, so I needed to try to replace it. To make him happy.
Our places were already set on the dining table when we stepped into the room, a carafe of wine sitting in the centre. I let go of Lonan and hurriedly poured him a glass, then changed my mind, poured a big glass of water and passed that to him instead as he approached the table.
He took it gratefully and tipped his chin to gulp it down. My eyes drifted down the column of his throat as he drank, the pale skin gleaming faintly with sweat. But when my eyes reached the collar of his shirt, any lust I was feeling was replaced quickly by a flash of hurt.
“Oh.” I gave a nervous laugh. “You’re not wearing your necklace.”
Lonan froze, then licked his lips as he set down the glass.
“It’s very warm.” He gave me a hesitant smile. “And I didn’t want to risk it getting damaged when I was training. I’ll put it back on later.”
I nodded quickly, walking round the table to take my seat. It was stupid to be hurt by it—he was allowed to take it off. It didn’t mean anything if he went an afternoon without wearing it.
My hand drifted up to finger the feather in the hollow of my throat as Lonan sat down opposite me. He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, then another.
I forced myself to smile. “Is it good?”
He nodded. His dark eyes met mine briefly over the candles on the table just as Jora bustled into the room with a tray.
“Evening, King Ash,” she said cheerfully. “Prince Lonan.”
I smiled. “Hi, Jora.”
Lonan gave her a nod, already picking up his wine glass again to have another sip.
“Roast chicken tonight.” She set the tray down on the side table and lifted a platter with the neatly carved bird steaming in the centre. “And the head cook said he’s made two portions of carrots, seeing as you requested unseelie food. He glazed some with honey for Prince Lonan.”
“Oh.” I looked at Lonan. “That’s nice.”
He gave a curt nod. “Tell him I appreciate it.”
“And honey-spiced butter.” Jora set bowl after bowl down on the table—vegetables and roasted potatoes, freshly baked break torn into chunks, salad studded with gleaming ruby pomegranate seeds and pale green grapes sliced in half.
