Chapter 22 #2
“I—I did. We talked in between teachings or when we were in our dorm. But…but they always came and went in twos or threes. It’s unusual here, not to have siblings.
They always had each other in the end. I had my horses and my books.
” His thumb gently caressed my skin in small circles.
It sent a soft blanket of warmth that extended to my lower belly.
My heart rate spiked—I had to break the touch.
Moving away from the window allowed me a glimpse of our reflection in the tall mirror.
In that tiny little second, I managed to observe how we looked next to each other.
I noticed that the top of my head was about level with his shoulders, and the size of my waist was probably half of his, smaller even.
Aegir followed me back to the dining table. I didn’t offer any help as he plated and served us a bit of everything. The beef was beyond anything I had ever tasted—it melted in my mouth, and each side was perfectly seasoned. Pity I couldn’t give Merti a personal compliment.
“The food is delicious,” I said. “And this—I had no idea it tasted this good.”
“You mean the wine?” he asked, lifting a brow.
“Mmhmm.”
“You’ve never had wine before?”
“Never. I prefer it much more than ale.”
“I suggest you don’t drink it in gulps,” he rushed out, extending his arm in an attempt to slow me down. “You’ll get drunk if you down it like that.” I took another small, delicious sip before setting the glass back on the table. For some reason, he smiled at that.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said, leaning back in his seat.
My question required the need of a short pause and a deep inhale. I finally asked, “Do I smell bad?” His little flinch told me that he wasn’t expecting that question. “You asked him to allow me a bath. Was it because my smell displeases you, or because I smell like horses?”
“What? No,” he said, placing his hand on my arm. Well, that sounded and felt reassuring at least. He retracted his hand. “Cordelia, if I’m being completely honest, you do not smell at all. It’s like your scent is…it’s barely there.”
“What does that mean? You said similar words when you…first came here, and I still don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s just—basically every person has their own unique scent. Some scents are more intense than others, but yours, yours I swear is the faintest.”
“Why? Is there something wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s only a little unusual, that’s all. I can scent the salt in your tears, in your sweat, the iron in your blood, but no other distinctive scent.”
“And that bothers you?”
“No. Yes. Well, sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Like when?”
“Like—like when it’s quiet…and your heart beats fast and I cannot tell why. Trying to figure it out the limited way can be very frustrating.”
“You mean the human way?”
“The human way, yes. I honestly don’t know how you do it, figuring out what another person is truly feeling without getting that reassuring shift in scent.”
“I don’t have a scent,” I whispered. “That’s what Georgious was going to say that day, when he tumbled onto me, isn’t it?”
Aegir didn’t have to answer; his face was telltale.
“You ordered your men not to say anything about my lacking scent?” I asked quietly.
“Well, I didn’t order them exactly. I only asked them to be a little bit sensitive.”
“I’m fairly certain that sensitive is an adjective none of your men would want you to use on their behalf.” I took another sip from my wine. “And you literally growled, Do not disobey my orders.” The last few words came out deep as I mimicked a fragment of his tone.
Aegir pursed his plump lips. “Fine, yes. I specifically asked them not to say anything, but only because I was certain Joel would blurt it out the second you came close.”
“But then, why bother asking for a bath?”
“I figured you’d rather bathe than spend one more hour in that laundry place. The dress was an extra touch. I can see now that I’ve made the right request.” I caught his eyes roaming down my neck, my side, along the length of my legs—my skin visible through the luminous mesh. They lingered.
I took another sip—all right, another gulp—of wine, then cleared my throat. “Yes, I much preferred the bath. Thank you.”
He stared back at me, then asked, “Have you ever been to other Lands outside of Ramel?”
“Never. I’ve journeyed only from the orphanage to here. Dunehaven is the farthest I’ve ever been away from the castle.”
“Do you wish to stay here forever?”
“I’ve always wished I could visit Ilma. I’ve never seen the sea, never seen giant trees or waterfalls.
But you know, with the current situation, that is of course out of the question.
Maybe one day I would journey to Sijar instead.
I hear it’s green and beautiful there—full of life. But for now, I’ll stay here.”
“Yes, the Land of my goddess Sylva is indeed beautiful, as is the Land of my god…Silch is quite magnificent, you know.”
“I’m not sure if a girl from Ramel can handle that much cold.” My lips flickered.
“There are ways to keep you warm.” For a second, I imagined how that could be achieved.
How I could lie sprawled before him between soft furry blankets, in a bedchamber made from icy walls and a frosted ceiling.
Warmth coursed through my belly. I blamed the wine.
But at least it gave me the courage to change the dangerous subject.
“Enough about me. Tell me something about you.”
“What do you want to know?” Aegir asked, resting his elbow on the back of his chair while sipping on his wine.
“Mmm…tell me something like…what kind of animal are you?” He almost choked on his wine. I almost chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“No, I meant, when you shift, what kind of Fae animal are you?”
“Oh, I…I do not have the ability to shift.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” A pause, then, “It seems that I, too, started with the wrong first question.”
I smiled at his laugh. Then he told me, “Most Demi-Fae cannot shift. Only those who come from a very strong line of shifters do. And you shouldn’t feel sorry. I don’t. Boreas blessed me with other gifts, you know. Gifts that I am very grateful for.”
“What kind of gifts?” I asked curiously.
“This. Locks and barriers,” he said, gesturing to the walls and ceiling, “and another one. One that I was sworn to never reveal.” He leaned forward.
“This one.” He grabbed my wrist and moved my arm towards his mouth.
His full, light brown lips were soft, just as soft as I had imagined they would be, softer perhaps, and he pressed them against my arm, right on top of my most recent bruise.
And with his little kiss, the mark was gone.
The pain was gone. What lingered was the familiarity of it.
I recognised that sensation of ethereal calm—his power being emitted and absorbed within my skin. It was him, then—the reason my cycle pain had disappeared shortly after leaving his room. It also explained why his palms were silken and free from calluses.
I searched his eyes, my own flickering. He—he was not only made to fight and destroy everything, he was also made to protect and to heal.
My pulse quickened, and I was sure he could feel its throbs as he kissed away another bruise somewhere close to my wrist. He let go of my hand and looked at my face.
First in my eyes—he came so very close, I noticed that his own irises, green, had an outer golden-brown rim, similar to the colour of his skin.
Absolutely striking. Then he looked at my right cheek, the one with the little crack, and made to lean forward.
I really wanted to know what it would feel like, a gentle press with his tender mouth on the skin of my face, but I found myself lifting my hand. I gently pressed two fingertips against his lips.
“Don’t,” I said softly. “He’ll wonder how it vanished.” My hand joined the other on my lap. “He’ll start asking questions, and he will tell King Belzari. He and the king, they are strangely close. He saved his son’s life once, the eldest, the heir.”
“Still, that does not give him the right to treat you like that.” His eyes were no longer soft. White mist formed along his lips; the crisp tendrils cooled my lungs.
“I know that. I do everything on the hush around him. Because what can I do? I am not strong or powerful. And besides, whoever tried to report him ended up without a job, or perhaps worse than that.”
“Do not make the mistake of underestimating yourself. By all means, allow others to do so for you, but don’t ever do that to yourself.”
“I am not underestimating myself; it is the truth.”
“It is not the truth for me,” he all but barked. I broke his stare. Silence.
He brushed my hand, a gesture that made me look at him. “Cordelia, I promise you, just tell me one word—one word—and I will remove him from your life completely, king’s friend or not.”
“No,” I said, my hand instinctively going to my necklace. What would Selmira think of me? What would my mother think of me? Defying Amfir like that.