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Talia
A strange sound outside the tent startled me awake.
Something large was snuffling on the other side of the canvas.
Staying perfectly still, I stared up at the folds of the mosquito net with wide eyes, every hair on my arms bristling while my heart stomped like a flamenco dancer.
It was still daytime, but the light was thinner, angling in from near the horizon and silhouetting the large creature against the canvas.
Sweat broke out all over my body as I watched the massive shape amble by. All I could detect were shoulders and a long back. The animal’s head was down, as if on the prowl, and the light was too low and mottled from the trees to determine exactly what the creature was. Between my recent encounter with the Wild Hunt and my hasty marriage to a fabled fae, my mind spiraled quickly into the worst possible options.
I lay perfectly still, taking shallow breaths and gripping the sheets in tight fists, until the animal moved away from the tent. A low voice sounded nearby—it might have been Hector’s, but I couldn’t tell. The sounds of a crackling fire and sizzling oil comforted me. The lovely smell of saffron and herbs wafted through the canvas. My stomach rumbled. The last time I had eaten was at Zara’s ball, a full day ago.
I glanced to both sides of the tent, searching for any hint of the large creature. My fear was quickly overtaken by my hunger, and I rolled out of bed, my feet sinking to the plush rug.
Hector’s voice carried through the canvas. “She’s only mortal.”
I froze. Rafael must have returned while I slept.
A low growl raised every hair on my arms and neck. The animal was still out there. For several minutes, I stood completely still, hands clutched to my chest and my heart beating madly, as the thin orange light filtering through the tent faded into darkness.
“Dinner’s ready,” Hector called out. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there. There must not be any dangerous animals outside, or I’d have heard a scuffle.
I glanced at the lovely blue dress laid across a chair, my fingers brushing the soft fabric once again, then sighed and reached for the breeches. When I stepped out of the tent, my stomach growled eagerly.
Before me lay a long table with eight high-backed chairs. Two tall silver candelabras glistened under flickering light. Lounging in the head seat, feet propped on the table, was my mislaid husband. His chin lolled against his chest, and his eyes were closed. He wore a crisp suit, this one pale as sand, that contrasted with his dark skin.
For a moment, I stared at him. His dark hair was damp, as if he’d recently bathed, and while most was slicked back, a few strands had fallen loose and hung limply against his cheeks. The shadow of a beard hugged his chin.
I hadn’t realized I’d moved closer until I bumped the chair nearest to him with my toe.
His eyes fluttered open and locked with mine.
I turned away, searching the clearing for the army of servants needed to assemble all this. There was no one except Hector, who was bent over a cookstove.
Hector glanced up from his work, a quick smile flashing across his face as he stood.
“Have a seat, señora Romero.” He lifted a hand toward the chair beside Rafael. Across this one place setting lay a white lily.
Aware of his heavy gaze, I pointedly avoided looking at my husband as I approached the table.
“Where did you go?” I asked, voice clipped.
He slowly dropped one foot then the other to the ground and stood. After a curt bow, he dropped back into his chair, kicked the side of the nearest chair so that it angled outward toward me, then sprawled into another wide-legged, relaxed slouch, like my presence here was trivial.
I pursed my lips and stepped down to the next chair, leaving vacant the one he’d intended for me. He might have married me and saved me from Ortiz, but he needed better manners than kicking a chair out for me before I would be impressed. When I took a seat, I daintily realigned the chair beside me. Rafael hmphed.
“Who else is coming?” I asked, reaching for the already-filled wine glass from the adjacent place setting.
“It’s just you and me,” he said with a small smirk.
I glanced at Hector, both brows rising. “And him, I presume?”
Hector chuckled and brought two steaming plates of paella to the table. “This is your first meal as a married couple. I will not interfere.” His tone sharpened as he aimed his last words at Rafael, as though warning a child to behave.
Before I could think of a response, Hector bowed and slipped away through the darkening trees. The last gold tones of the sunset were glowing on the western horizon, and a strong breeze batted the thin candle flames.
Though my mouth watered, I kept my hands in my lap and stared fixedly at the dancing light of the candle. Finally, I drew a deep breath and glanced at Rafael, unable to subdue the flush that blazed up my neck.
