Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kjeld hoped for adjoining bedrooms. He prayed to every Northernlands god and goddess who might listen for adjoining bedrooms. Because if he had to share a bed with Caelian, if he had to lie next to her every evening, then that was the most pure and evil form of torture.
The gods despised him.
There was no other excuse.
For why else would they seek to curse him by forcing him to share a room with Caelian?
She paused in the doorway right in front of him, her breath catching, soft enough only for him to hear.
The room was elegant and spacious, nothing at all like the dreary quarters King Marius once kept for guests.
On the far wall, a fire roared within a giant stone hearth, and there was a black fur rug spread out before it.
No doubt that was where they would keep the dragon eggs.
Two leather high-back chairs were seated before it, and thick draperies framed the arching windows to keep out the cold.
The walls were papered with slate gray flowers trimmed in metallic gold, and positioned along the opposite side of the room was a decadent four-poster bed.
It was made of rich cherrywood and piled high with a mound of satin pillows and a gilded downy comforter.
He could collapse onto that bed and sleep forever.
“These are your quarters for however long you wish to stay.” Queen Viktoria offered a smile, but it was slightly off.
Secretive almost. It set his nerves on edge, and awareness prickled at the back of his neck.
Her uncanny eyes flicked over him. “General Holtstom, your attire is suitable for Evarfest, but I will send a maid with a few options for Lady Caelian.”
Caelian spun around, almost careening right into Kjeld’s chest. She stumbled back a step, dropping into a half-hearted curtsy. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I appreciate your generosity.”
“Think nothing of it.” The queen lifted her chin, maintaining her sense of authority despite her absurdly petite stature. “Take your time to freshen up, and I’ll see you both at the witching hour.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught Caelian slowly entering the bedroom, but he kept his gaze focused on the queen and her entourage of advisors and guards as they rounded the corner at the far end of the corridor.
Their heavy footfalls told him they were heading toward the throne room, and since the courtyard was in the same direction, it would make prying into closed-off rooms more manageable.
Kjeld knew every inch of Castle Brackroth by heart, which meant he would be able to keep Caelian out of harm’s way.
For the most part. Especially since he found Brynhild Falk and Elder Lothaire deeply untrustworthy.
Byrnhild appeared ancient, as though she had walked the earth with the first of men. And Elder Lothaire…well, he looked otherworldly. Unsettling. As though he was something else altogether. And Kjeld vowed right then to make sure he kept the elder as far away from Caelian as possible.
Once he was certain the envoy was out of sight and earshot, he stepped into the bedroom, closed the door soundly behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to find Caelian running her fingers along the trim lining the golden comforter.
She peered over at him, her lips pursing.
“How is it your attire is appropriate for this ball, whereas mine is not?” Caelian threw her arms out in exasperation, as though making her point. “This is one of the finest traveling gowns I own.”
Kjeld was grateful for the distraction, even if it was mundane talking about the necessity of clothing.
“Because Evarfest is how people of the Northernlands welcome the coming of the summer’s first new moon.
It’s held outdoors and is celebrated with dozens of glowing bonfires.
There’s food, and music, and drink, and some find it customary to dress in a certain manner.
The men usually wear leather and fur, the women wear lace and fur.
” He gestured to his riding leathers, to the worn straps where Kaldflam was bound to his back, to where his cloak of silver fur was pinned to one shoulder.
“If anything, my lady, you are overdressed for the occasion.”
“Oh.” She blanched slightly, a line of concern pinching across her brows. Caelian shifted her weight, pulling lightly on the sleeves of her expensive gown. “I see. And what did Queen Viktoria mean by the witching hour?”
Kjeld roughed his knuckles beneath the underside of his jaw, trying to figure out the best way to explain it to her.
“The witching hour isn’t an exact time of day, it’s more like a feeling.
A sensation of knowing. It’s after twilight but before the dawn, when the veil between worlds and realms is at its thinnest.”
Caelian clasped her hands together and rolled her lips. “Sounds enchanting.”
Kjeld shrugged. “Or terrifying, depending on what you make of it.”
Her gaze snapped to his, eyes round with something like fear. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that—”
A swift knock interrupted their conversation, and a maid with mousy brown hair and nervous eyes scurried into the room. She deposited a heap of leathers, furs, feathers, and silks onto the bed. Then she faced Caelian, keeping her eyes averted, and bobbed a quick curtsy.
“For her ladyship.”
The maid bolted from the bedroom before Caelian even had the opportunity to thank her.
“Well.” Caelian began sifting through the pile of clothing, inspecting the different fabrics. “That was odd behavior.”
“It’s not at all odd for someone who doesn’t know what to expect from a fae.” Kjeld sauntered toward her and leaned against the spiraling post of the bed frame, mildly surprised when it didn’t budge beneath his weight. “I told you before, they weren’t so kind to the fae when your sister was here.”
She scoffed. “Yet these same people were so quick to accept a bastard witch as their queen?”
Her quip was sharp and honed, much like an arrow, and Kjeld smirked in spite of it. “An excellent observation, Starweaver.”
Caelian didn’t acknowledge the use of the nickname again, but her heartbeat fluttered in his ears, and the corner of her mouth lifted before she pressed her lips into a firm line.
She unhooked her diamond brooch and removed her navy cape, laying it gently over the edge of the bed.
Then slowly started to take off her dress.
“Well,” she said, eyeing the pile of skirts, corsets, and gowns. “I suppose something from this assortment will have to do.”
Her gown slipped from her shoulders, then over her waist and shapely hips, before pooling around her ankles like liquid stardust.
Kjeld’s heart thundered at the sight of her, his gaze lingering on the scars shredding her abdomen, before jumping to her full breasts, then back to the smooth swath of skin between her thighs.
His blood roared, crashing through him, filling him with carnal desire.
He crossed his arms, it was even a struggle to breathe at this point.
He’d seen her naked before, but not like this.
Not in perfect health. Not when she seemed to care less about the fact that he was standing right next to her.
Caelian’s complete disregard for his presence and her own modesty sent a hot bolt of lust straight to his cock.
His shaft expanded, lengthening and hardening, until he thought it would burst free from his fucking pants.
Caelian stepped out of the gown, sighing a little, as though she was relieved to have been rid of the heavy silver fabric.
Her shoulders dropped, sagging with an unknown weight.
Heavy. Despairing. She tipped her head back, rolling her neck, expelling a breath so deep it seemed to resonate in her soul.
Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she slowly started to massage as tiny lines of uncertainty burrowed across her forehead.
Kjeld stared, watching as her composure cracked, as her perfect ladylike exterior crumbled the moment she realized no one was watching.
Except he was still there.
Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she felt safe revealing this vulnerable side of herself before him, and perhaps it was because he’d already witnessed her on the edge of death.
Either way, she didn’t mind him loitering against the bedpost, she didn’t shrivel into herself or hide her scars, and he would forever consider it an honor to witness this pure version of her.
Caelian glanced over at him then, her gaze flicking down to his rather obvious erection before sliding back up to his face.
Her expression never changed.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling the jeweled pins from her hair. “I assumed we were past the prudent awkward stage since we’ve already seen each other naked.”
A grin tugged at the corner of Kjeld’s mouth. “You’ve never seen me naked.”
She stiffened to the point of pain, hardly sparing him a glance as she grabbed a crimson dress from the bed. “I saw you in the forest.”
Kjeld scoffed, knowing damn good and well what she saw. His cock, yeah, but she had yet to see him fully in the nude. That, however, was only a matter of time. “A glimpse of what’s below the belt hardly counts, Starweaver.”
Caelian pulled on the dress and did a small spin.
It was strapless, with a devastatingly low neckline.
So deep, in fact, that only a swatch of sheer black lace disguised her rose nipples protruding against the fabric.
Lace flared from her hips, and black fur lined the hem, including the slit that ran all the way up to the middle of her thigh.
Kjeld was five seconds away from pumping his cock in front of her again.
“I’d say it counts enough, General.” She smoothed her hands over her waist, admiring herself in the full-length mirror propped against the opposite wall. “Now that I know what’s there.”
His chest seized when she called him by his formal title. He always tried to keep some kind of formality between them, but the way she said it this time was different than before. It was alluring. Damning.
“Not interested in seeing the rest of me, then?” he teased.
“Maybe.” Caelian pulled up her hair with both hands and turned, showing him her back where silky red laces remained loose and undone. “Maybe not.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Will you tie my ribbons, please?”
Kjeld shoved off the bedpost, then hesitated. Opening his palms, he glanced down at his hands. They were large and calloused, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the fabric or, worse, hurt her.
“I don’t think—”
“Kjeld, please.” Exasperation lit her tone, and she made a show of fumbling with the delicate ribbons. “I obviously can’t do it by myself.”
Grinding his teeth and silently cursing her name, he reached for the laces with meaty fists, giving them a gentle tug.
Caelian sighed again, this time with annoyance. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before, because lying is incredibly unattractive.”
He bit his tongue to keep from lashing out.
Of course he’d laced a woman into her dress before, he was just keener on taking them off.
But the point of the matter was all the times he’d performed such a task, he’d been a human.
Not a fucking fae. And they were getting along so well, he really didn’t want to sour the moment with that not-so-subtle reminder.
Until she decided to let a snarky little retort slip from between her lips.
“If you can’t do it…” She swatted at his hands. “Then I’m sure I can find someone else to help me. Elder Lothaire seems rather capable.”
Kjeld’s temper flared, pent up from too many excruciating hours of tension. “What the hell did you say?”
He grabbed her hips and spun her around to face him, then pulled the ribbons with both hands, yanking hard. Her back bowed and a harsh gasp pulled from her lungs as he pressed the full length of his erection into her lower belly.
“I…I said…” Caelian’s sapphire eyes were wild with dizzying emotions, but the rise of lust burning hot in their blue depths was unmistakable.
“I know what you said,” he ground out, tugging tight again, binding the laces all the way down her back. “No one else touches you. Except for me.”
She nodded sharply, chest heaving, and his gaze dipped to the rising swell of her breasts.
It was then he realized he could see the fullness of their curves perfectly, along with the hard little peaks of her nipples.
The corset did a wonderful job of showcasing her cleavage, the tempting lace made him want to suck her nipple right into his mouth.
Kjeld squeezed his eyes shut. A dull ache formed at the base of his neck, causing the rest of his head to pound with a vengeance. But it was nothing compared to the throbbing of his cock.
“What’s wrong?” Caelian asked, her soft voice filled with concern. She pressed the back of her hand gently to his forehead. “You look unwell. Pained, almost. Is everything alright?”
He didn’t answer her directly but instead only offered her his arm. “We should go. Queen Viktoria will be expecting us soon, and I want to see what I can find before the bonfires are lit.”
The second her slender fingers curled around his arm, Kjeld led Caelian out of their shared bedchamber and into the long stretch of a dimly lit corridor.
It was time to see what they could discover about Viktoria Kalstrand, the Witch Queen.