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She stared into his eyes, unblinking. He stared back, his breath even and controlled.
Her nostrils flared as he’d seen Kymri’s do.
She blinked, breaking the pressure that had begun to bear down on him.
“I wish to see your images".
Images? The tattoos? His gaze dropped to his forearm, the cosmic colors dappling his skin around pinpricks of white representing stars. He lifted his arm and angled it so that she may see it.
Her expression remained impassive, her gaze studied it for several moments.
“There are more?”
He nodded, his hands moving to the hem of his tee-shirt. He hesitated, “may I?”
She nodded.
He turned and removed his shirt, the cool air of the room slid around him, along with acute awareness of being so exposed to a room full of onlookers.
Several of the art pieces were wrapped around his torso or in patches over his back and shoulders. They were mostly abstract pieces with shapes and flowers and vines superimposed in bursts of color.
He turned slowly so that she might look upon him. It was as he finally finished the revolution and faced her again that her gaze slid to the one tattoo that lacked any color at all. Over his heart was the black scripted tattoo of his parents’ names, entwined.
“Elora,” the queen said on a breath.
Chapter 13
Kymri’s heart stalled.
Elora.
A collective gasp hushed through the room.
From the back of the room she had heard the report, and Jori’s explanation of his actions.
A pang of protective jealousy had struck her when he approached the queen, and when his shirt had come off, she wanted nothing more than to remove him from the eyes of every woman in the room.
That name changed everything.
Elora.
The queen’s immobility where she stood, the power of the name, rippled across the room and Kymri could feel it where she stood. The rawness of it scraped at her heart.
The speaker stood, dismissing the assembly. The doors opened and everyone filed out.
Kymri remained where she was.
Unless the queen commanded her to leave, she would stay close to Jori. Even then, she might disobey. Her breath shuddered through her at the thought. Never in her life had she ever entertained the thought of going against her queen’s wishes.
Her gaze slid to her left where Odson Blackridge stood to the other side of the doors. She hadn’t seen the man in years.
Why was he here?
She turned her attention back to the far end of the room, where Jori stood facing the queen and her guard. They still hadn’t moved.
The great doors swung closed and Kymri was moving forward. The second she started walking, Odson moved in a step behind.
They stopped, flanking Jori.
