Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Neve

Chapter Thirty-One

Neve

He didn’t get any sleep the night of their arrival.

Nor the next day.

“Tell us again about the astrylle ,” Beram asked, running his claws over his long gray beard.

Neve choked back a growl at the old vallos ’ question. They’d been over this several times already. “At the Seed of Loriia, an astrylle blessed our union. Then three days later, when we stopped for a break, the reilleve shared her lunch with the creature.”

Eyri stopped his scratching, and lifted his head, his spectacles on the tip of his nose. “I studied the astrylle perched outside the castle and the markings are remarkably similar to the bird from the village blessing. I believe they are the same. I think the astrylle followed us.”

Neve blinked at his cousin. That was new.

“Our queen must be something special to be blessed by an astrylle , and to survive so many harrowing ordeals in the last month.” Warrin, their old battle-ax of a giant, laced his fingers over his belly and leaned back in his chair. “I look forward to meeting her.”

There was a murmur of agreement that set Neve’s teeth on edge. This was not how it was supposed to go. He’d planned on stowing her in the tower and continuing to rule his kingdom. He didn’t need the saloes causing trouble. “I will introduce you once she’s recovered, and I’ve gotten some sleep.”

He stood from the simple throne and nodded to the council sitting at the rectangular table. “Goodnight.”

Neve retreated out the door, with Flyka and Olwen shadowing him. “You don’t need to follow me to my bed.”

“With what happened near the Seed, I beg to differ,” Flyka retorted. “We have guesses who sanctioned that attack, but no confirmation. It could be anyone.”

He sighed but didn’t argue, knowing she was right. The black stone walls wavered with the reflections of the lanterns. Neve took the left staircase, taking two stairs at a time. Their war room was deep in the castle so there was less of a chance of spies. Many floors later, he found himself in the royal wing.

Flyka sped past him and held up her hand as he reached his door. She gave him a firm look as if to say don’t move until I’m done . Neve leaned his right shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting for her to inspect his chamber.

She stepped out, her expression blank. “It’s clear, my lord.”

“Thank you.” He clasped her on the shoulder and nodded to Olwen. “Goodnight, my friends.”

He closed the door behind him and a heavy sigh escaped him.

Finally, he was home.

The lanterns were extinguished, but a fire roared on both sides of the room, making it warmer than he normally liked. He meandered to the window and stared. There was something so peaceful about a moonlit lake.

He rolled his neck and cast a longing look at the tub. How his body ached from the last ride, trying to keep distance between himself and the valles , not to mention the cracked ribs that still ached with every breath he took.

Sleep, then a bath in the morning.

Neve smiled at his bed. He loved pillows. It was one of his extravagances. He could give up fine clothing, fancy food, even forgo hot water, but a soft bed with an overabundance of pillows? Never. After nearly a month of sleeping on floors, makeshift beds, and bunks, he was ready for a good night’s sleep.

Prowling to the bed, he tore off his loose tunic and shirt. Next, he toed off his boots, peeled off his socks, and then unlaced his leathers, kicking them to the floor. Completely naked, he flopped onto his stomach on the mattress, hugging the nearest pillow.

He groaned. It was pure bliss.

Qov , but he loved his bed.

Neve slipped into slumber, only to wake later in the night when the fires had almost burned out. He yanked the covers back and slipped under, the cool sheets caressing his skin.

This was heaven.

Neve woke in the early morning, his sorav throbbing and nestled in heat. He pressed his hips into the warmth, his hand squeezing the pillow by his side.

Ginger. His favorite scent. Had breakfast already been brought in?

A bloodcurdling scream assaulted his sensitive ears, making him jerk upright, disoriented. He blinked repeatedly at the space beside him, Dahlia’s crazy eyes meeting his for a second before she lobbed a pillow at him. He bellowed and bolted out of the bed as his niliave rolled out the other side. Her nonnaette popped her head up from the floor and scurried around the bed, nodding to him once.

Olwen opened the door, took in the scene as Loshika squeezed past him, and closed the door just as fast with a wicked grin.

Bloody traitor.

Dahlia screamed again and lobbed another pillow, her hand groping for the stone vase on the side table.

“Why are you in my bed naked ?” she screeched, seizing the vase and throwing it.

Neve ducked, the vase crashing behind him. “What are you doing in my room?” he yelled back, tossing his hands in the air.

“Godsteeth,” the valles cursed, holding her hand up. “Cover it up!”

Neve cupped his sorav with both hands, shielding himself from her view. “You don’t get to make demands when you sneak into my bed.”

She glared at him. “I didn’t sneak anywhere. I went to bed in my room last night and then this morning I find you naked in my bed groping me and thrusting against my bottom!”

He almost blushed, but shoved it down. This was his chamber, and he was no maid. “My body’s reaction to you is not your problem, but you were still in my bed.” His gaze scoured her, noting that she was wearing one of his shirts. The black fabric met her knees, but laces almost met her navel. She placed her hands on the bed and leaned forward, the collar gaping open to reveal more of her body than he suspected Dahlia wanted seen.

A flash a heat ran through him.

Neve focused on the fireplace behind her, ignoring how his body heated at the small glimpse. “ Jaivelle , I can see your nipples.”

She gasped and straightened, pinching the edges together with both of her shaking hands.

“Why are you in my shirt?” he asked tightly. The possessive part of him liked it. And that was all sorts of wrong.

“Because it was the only decent thing I could find to sleep in.” Her nose wrinkled. “Everything in my trunks were lacy and see-through.”

Lace and see-through sleeping attire, how very intriguing. He scowled, pushing the thought away. “Why do you think this is your room?”

“Because Jaessa brought me here two nights ago and said it was so.” She stabbed a finger at the end of the bed. “Plus, my trunks are here.”

He eyed the trunks, frowning. How had he not noticed those last night? Or the fact that there was a little human in his bed? He side-eyed the pillows. They betrayed him. She must have been buried underneath all the fluffiness.

There was only one person who could have orchestrated something like this.

Lumi.

His jaw tightened. His bloody sister had overseen the organizing of the princess’ things when they arrived. Why did she place them here when she knew he wanted her in the tower?

He shuffled to his discarded clothes and yanked on his leathers, leaving the ties loosened. Neve stalked around the bed, feeling like his skin was too tight. Dahlia tracked his progress as he caged her against the bed.

“This has all been a misunderstanding. This…” He gestured to the chamber. “…is my room. You were not meant to be here. It’s a mistake I will remedy. But for the time being…” He lifted her onto the bed. “…go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

He stormed away.

“Where are you going?”

“To shower. Alone .”

“How’d you get those scars?”

He cursed. Qovving female.

Neve slammed the bathroom door behind him and turned the water on cold. He tore off his trousers and tossed them to the ground with a disgusted slap. Unwinding his braid, he ducked under the cold water, and hissed as the icy torrent doused him. He ran his hand down his face and then tipped his head back, letting the spray fall onto his cheeks.

What a mess.

His body still throbbed with unfulfilled desire for a saloes . It was wrong. She was the enemy, no matter how soft and curvy she was.

He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her.

Maybe if he thought it enough, his body would start believing him.

When Neve exited the shower room, he was a lot calmer. He paused, holding the towel around his waist. Dahlia sat on the end of the bed, her bare feet resting on the middle trunk, peeking out from beneath a gauzy gold dress. She didn’t look toward him but continued to stare out at the frozen lake through the arched windows.

He pushed the false door right of the fireplace and entered his wardrobe.

Neve stopped in his tracks, noting all the gowns, both Loriian and Asteran. They mingled with his own clothing. It was bizarre, but surprisingly not unwelcome.

Quickly dressing, he pulled a black lace gown from the rack and pushed out of the hidden wardrobe. His reilleve still didn’t glance his way. He steeled himself for another confrontation, and walked to the end of the bed. He scanned her profile before sitting on the mattress next to Dahlia, the dress in his lap.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, attention dropping to the dress. “You’ll look pretty in that.”

He quirked a smile. “It is for you. I prefer leather to lace.”

She straightened, brushing her hands along her lap. “You don’t like this one?”

“No, the color is beautiful on you, but it is too Asteran. You need to wear lysterm black.”

“In my culture, it is a color of mourning.” She pulled a face. “I’ve never looked good in dark colors.”

Odd . Didn’t her people use it as a sign of nobility as well? He hadn’t heard of it being used for mourning except in Fierre.

“Here it is the color of royalty.” He paused. “You need to look like your new people.”

She nodded, staring at her palms. His chest squeezed at the scars from the rope marring both.

“You want to make me more palatable to your court,” she concluded.

“That, among other things.”

His wife sighed. “What do you expect of me, my lord?”

“My lord,” he tsk ed. “Now you use the honorific. I think we’re well past that in private.”

“Are we? Because you still look at me like I’m the enemy even though you orchestrated this marriage. I’m wondering just what you want from me.”

“Peace. Nothing else.” A lie, his soul insisted.

“What does that look like?”

“Today, it is meeting my council and court. Tomorrow, something else. The day after that, it is up to you.”

She twisted her lips. “Is that all?”

“I won’t bore you with the details, but the marriage alone gave me what I wanted. You were a means to an end.”

“That’s surprisingly honest.”

Dahlia slid from the bed, over the trunk, and held her hand out for the dress. “Alright, let’s play king and queen, shall we?”

He placed the dress over her arm. “There’s jewelry in the wardrobe for you. I’ll send for your ladies-in-waiting. We need you to look like a reilleve .”

“Don’t worry, lae reillov . I won’t disappoint.”