Chapter 13 Auria
Islept past dawn.
Again.
Which meant that Bylur was a bear.
Again.
Which meant I had to wait another whole day and hope to stay awake long enough to see him again tonight.
I glanced at his side of the bed. The blankets were pulled into pristine layers—he’d clearly been here, left, and attempted to tidy his side of the bed. Had he avoided me deliberately?
Another question for my list.
I marched across the bedroom, sitting room, and office, but I froze when I saw my list from last night. Under my ten questions, a neat and sturdy hand had added a new list.
1. What details do you want? We covered the essentials.
2. Yes. I told you I would, but I also told you I would not touch you when I lay down.
You have nothing to fear. (I suspect I might have to make an exception to touching you tonight, though, because you are currently sprawled across most of the bed.
I will be true to the intent of my statement—if I touch you, it will only be to return you to your side of the bed.)
I rolled my eyes at the paper. That bed was huge. There was no way I covered “most” of it.
3. Yes. We are two nights in and have 398 more to go.
4 & 5. That is not a safe discussion for this paper.
6. Can you clarify the question?
7. Also unsure what this means. Do you want a fae marriage?
8. If you mean how we speak the same language, I’m not sure. We (fae) have an ancient Mother Tongue that is rarely taught anymore, but the Common Tongue is consistent throughout the four fae realms… and apparently wherever you are from.
9. It is better for Kalshana, its people, and me.
10. Ah, my precious human. You are like a snowdrop—so clever, so beautiful, so full of life-saving secrets, but also terribly dangerous. I haven’t spoken this answer aloud to even an empty room. I wouldn’t dare put it on a paper, even for my confusingly brave wife.
I read it three times.
I’d come over here with another question in mind, but his answers made me completely forget it.
The fact that he’d taken the time to respond to my questions when I hadn’t expected it filled my whole mind with a rush of emotion.
And then he’d called me so many things—precious, clever, beautiful, life-saving, and brave.
A lump snagged in my throat, and I swallowed hard to get rid of it.
I had not been called so many sweet things since I’d been a child.
Of course, he also threw in confusing and dangerous.
It left me with too many feelings to figure out on an empty stomach. Instead of trying to analyze it all, I added one more question under his list:
What is a snowdrop?