7. Hevva sits on a blanket.
seven
Hevva sits on a blanket.
H evva re-emerged from her chamber a few minutes later in a dress of cornflower blue. She liked this one because it fastened up the front and didn’t require her maid’s assistance.
The king had returned and awaited her. Leaning against the wall across from her room, he somehow managed to give off the distinct air that he regularly hung out in hallways. Casual was the man’s middle name. That wavy chocolate hair was tousled, and he hadn’t bothered with a shave. He hadn’t bothered to don a jacket either, and the sleeves of his fresh linen shirt were buttoned at the wrists. One muscled arm bent across his chest as he fiddled the cufflink with his opposite hand. Vibrant fern eyes snapped up to hers,
“Countess.” King Hethtar offered his arm once again. “Another new dress, I see. How did your items fare in the fire? Yours, your brother’s, Aylin’s things?”
“You know my maid’s name?”
“Yes?” He eyed her curiously. “Why shouldn’t I? She’s a guest in my home.”
A soft little sound escaped the back of her throat as they paused at the base of a narrow set of stairs. He gestured for her to go first. Well, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it already . She ascended, possibly adding a little extra sway to her step .
“You haven’t answered my question.” Despite climbing behind her, and thus being on a lower stair, the heat from his words sent a few wayward strands of Hevva’s hair flying, tickling against her ear. The sensation was shockingly arousing.
She pinched her own arm. “Our luggage fared well. Aylin is nothing if not quick thinking. As soon as the fire broke out, she shoved our items into a chest and doused the entire thing. Then I tossed it out the window. I may have lost a few toiletries, but nothing irreplaceable.”
“You— you threw your chest out the window?” He’d stopped a few stairs below, so she waited for him on the landing, not sure where they were supposed to go next.
“Yes. There was no one gathered down below yet. It didn’t even pop open, sturdy old thing.”
He chuckled, and as he reached the top of the stairs, the king bypassed offering an escort by arm, instead splaying an enormous palm across her lower back. Heat from his touch flooded her, coursing out from the point of contact and threatening to melt her into a puddle right there on the floor. With a slight application of pressure, King Hethtar directed Hevva to the left and down a short hall. Once they were moving again, he let his hand fall away. Ever the gentleman...sort of.
She chanced a glance over at the young king. Daylight filtered in through the windows beneath the eaves, highlighting his strong cheekbones and the day’s stubble darkening his chiseled jaw.
Attractive.
He was, she could admit it. It was an objective fact, after all.
“ D o mama and papa need me to help them this afternoon?” the innkeepers’ eldest child, a boy of twelve asked.
“They do not.” The king went on to update Haidar and his younger siblings on the work underway on their parents’ establishment and all of the exciting changes they could expect in their new living quarters. Hevva trailed behind carrying the littlest, Haifa.
King Hethtar had known all five of the children’s names when he introduced the lady in turn to Haidar and Hala, the eldest and middle child, whom she’d gotten out of the flames and to safety first when the fire began. Then she officially met the oldest daughter, Hiba, and the youngest two children, Hesham and Haifa. Hevva wasn’t sure how the king kept everyone straight, what with the H-theme and all. Throw Hethtar, and her own name in the mix, and it was really a lost cause. They were the sweetest children though, all playing together in the hall’s unused nursery when Hevva and the king first went upstairs. And now, the eclectic group was making its way outside for an afternoon of fun in the sun, per the monarch's command.
She couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on his impressively formed rear as he pounded down his home’s granite steps, kids in tow. Haifa and Hala—she thought that was right—clung to one hand each while Hesham rode atop the king’s shoulders. The eldest boy, Haidar swayed into and away from the group as he ambled along beside them.
The surprises with this man never end.
Sure, they’d been at a few of the same events over the years. But they’d never been formally introduced to one another, and it had always been in a polished setting, each movement choreographed down to the steps attendees should take during dances and the proper number of sips of champagne to have during each segment of the night. This was...different. Very different. Much more in line with how she preferred to spend her time when at home in Stormhill or visiting her people in Kabuvirib. Simply, living. Sure, there were enough duties to attend to that one could ostensibly fill every waking moment of every day with work. But there was also time for life. Hevva would be the first to admit—to herself, only—that she hadn’t expected the king to make time for such mundane, to some, activities.
On the back lawn of Hewran Hall their group of seven was joined by four young members of his staff: two watercourser maids, a firebearer from the kitchens, and another who worked in the stable .
The king set down the boy he’d been carrying and instructed them all to go run around. Hevva held on to the baby, who was rather sweet. It was a wonder that the innkeepers had so many children. Their marriage must have been blessed by the fates; it was the only thing that made sense in an age when most families had two children tops.
“Why the team of servants?” she inquired as they took up positions on the grass.
“To help dispel fears after last evening’s events. A routine to calm the mind,” he explained with a shrug. As if caring for the psychological wellbeing of a near strangers’ children were the norm.
How thoughtful. Her heartbeat quickened a bit, from the exertion of carrying the child, of course. The whole day had been strange, and this was not a situation she’d ever expect to see the king in. It was not one she’d ever expect to find herself in either, to be perfectly fair.
Re-centering herself, Hevva decided to help out with the set up. She pushed out a pulse of magic, smoothing the earth beneath where the king lay out the blanket, and making sure any stray twigs and stones sunk down into the pliable ground. She fluffed the grass a bit too, to make their sitting area plusher.
King Hethtar, who’d already sat upon the throw with the second youngest child, Hesham, glanced up at her, his eyes sparkling. He must have sat on a rock and noticed when it had vanished beneath his bottom. His very well-defined bottom...
Oh. Why’d I go and think of that again?
The firebearers put on a show for the children, a demonstration of skill to assure them that fire wasn’t all horror and destruction. The middle ones seemed nervous at first, before they calmed and clapped with excitement. Water came into play as the coursers and firebearers staged a mock battle, something the king had clearly asked them to choreograph beforehand. Water, of course, was victorious. Even the eldest boy, on the cusp of being a young man but still a bit younger than Kas, watched the display entranced. The entire effect was exciting, riveting, and all around adorable.
A spray of stray water hit them. As Hevva raised a hand to shield the baby’s face from getting wet, a few droplets made their way down the tip of her nose. The children were excessively excited by the new development, requesting more water, more spray. They were hot and wanted to be splashed again.
King Hethtar leaned over suddenly, and before Hevva could recoil in confusion he’d thrust out a finger and brushed away droplets from her face. It seemed there’d been more than one. The drop on her nose she’d known about; the one on her bottom lip was a surprise.
The young watercoursers eyed the king, awaiting his approval before they acted out of line.
“Yes. But let’s move away from the blanket, and the sleeping babe.”
The four other H-children celebrated before dashing off across the field. The middle daughter, Hala, backtracked to grab the king’s hand and drag him along.
“Fine, fine, I’m coming.” He rolled up his sleeves, first one and then the other as he joined the kids in the grass. “One second,” the king called out, before doubling back to deposit his boots and socks near Hevva and the littlest H. Just like that, he was dressed exactly as she’d found him in the solar not so long ago.
She smiled up at him, squinting into the afternoon sun.
“Lady Hevva, I should have asked. Would you like me to stay with the babe while you play with the children?”
“Oh no, I quite enjoy her company the most.”
“Even over mine?” The teasing was unexpected.
She peeked at the sleeping child to hide her rising blush. “Mm, debatable.”
He rumbled.
She rather liked when he did that.
The king returned to the field. It wasn’t long before he’d swung Hesham up onto his shoulders again, as his watercourser staff members exhausted their day’s magic supply, squirting sprays and streams all over the place at varying intervals for the children...and the king...to run through. Hevva didn’t think she’d ever laughed so much in her life as she watched the uninhibited exuberance unfold.
Eventually, when little Hesham also seemed ready for a nap like his baby sister, the king suggested they move back inside. He waved off the kitchen watercourser who offered to take the sleepy toddler.
“You four, take the afternoon off. Thank you for going above and beyond in your duties today. Go, recuperate, head into town, whatever.” He waved them off, but not unkindly. “I’ll send word to your stations, so you’re not thought delinquent.”
With that, the staff members dropped into low curtsies and bows before taking off in a variety of directions. She didn’t miss the way the stable boy firebearer and a young watercourser maid headed the same way, the backs of their hands brushing against one another now and again each time their arms swung a little too close.
She let the king and other children amble ahead, falling back with Haifa snuggled up against her shoulder. King Hethtar walked with the children, his boots hanging from one hand. Their group jostled and bumped into one another, laughing at something one of the little girls said. A booming laugh rippled over to Hevva, bringing a smile to her face.
Looking over his shoulder, the king caught her mid-grin.
She shook her head and held his gaze.
Strange, half-formed thoughts swirled about her head. All she could coherently think was he didn’t look very much like a king at all. In fact, he was very handsome. She could admit that, would happily admit that, freely. Ehmet Hethtar was a very good looking and surprisingly delightful sort of man.
Too bad he has a title...and the worst one to boot.