Chapter 16 Khiona
Ifound Andar in the dining room at a table with an elderly fae and a young—very young—adult. The one we almost ran into last night. The youth said something with animated gestures and Andar threw his head back and laughed. It was a relaxed, genuine laugh that I had never seen before.
Who were these people? And why was Andar more comfortable with them than anyone had ever been around me?
He spotted me and waved me over. “Your—” He cut off just as I realized the only name he had for me was Your Majesty, and he couldn’t say that with the guise we were maintaining.
He stood up and spoke as he crossed the room.
“You’re awake! I’m so glad.” He wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “I hope you feel better.”
I nearly melted into him. But this wasn’t genuine. It was the role he’d accepted. He’d accepted it for me, but it wasn’t because we were actually married or because he cared.
I hadn’t figured out why he’d accepted it, but I had to remind myself that it wasn’t real.
He guided me to the table with a hand on the small of my back. Oh, the way my skin reacted to his light touch! I wanted to lean into him and feel it more securely.
Why wasn’t this real?
Because I had another agenda.
But was it worth it? Wouldn’t this kind of affection be better? Even just a friendship—
He pulled a chair out for me, and as I sat in it, he gestured at the other two fae. “Come. Break your fast with me and my new friends.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”
He smiled easily. “Yes. It turns out making friends here is easier than we expected. Meet Kortan and Gran.”
If I’d given him my name, would we be friends now too?
Maeva set a plate with eggs and rolls on it in front of me. “Lord Taedo is paying for you, so you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Andar turned that new smile on Maeva. “That’s kind of you, Maeva, but we’ll be leaving very soon.” He reached an arm across the back of my chair. “You can see she is still distraught over yesterday. I believe the more distance we put between us and the Kahunamons, the better.”
Maeva dipped a shallow curtsy. “Of course, sir.”
I caught her arm as she turned to leave. “Do you have any more of that chamomile tea?”
She grinned. “Of course, miss. I’ll heat some and bring it right over.”
I put a bite of egg in my mouth and replayed Andar’s words. He’d done it again—spoken for us and announced our plans so I didn’t have to say anything that would give us away. And this time he’d done it with a smile.
The walls around my heart stuttered again, trembling in a way that made me wonder if they would hold. Was I feeling something toward Andar?
But that couldn’t be possible. I’d locked my emotions up behind a woven magic as thoroughly as I’d locked up emotions from my soldiers and attendants and…
And my human.
Andar and the others left me to my food and tea while they chattered about ice butterflies, horses, and how much more pleasant the heat of the Summer Realm is than the ice of the winter. I disagreed occasionally, but I didn’t dare speak. It would be too easy to slip and reveal myself.
* * *
Andar got us out of the inn faster than I expected. After introducing me to his new friends, I was afraid we’d have to spend the entire morning with them. But as soon as I finished eating, Andar made our excuses, said his goodbyes, and led me to the stable.
“You’ll have to wait while I set these two up,” he said as he situated a saddle on Peaches.
Why hadn’t I renamed him yet? Andar tightened a strap around the gelding’s middle.
“You could have waited inside, but I thought you’d like to leave as soon as possible, and if you didn’t come out here, I expect someone would corner you and try to be sympathetic. ”
“You’re right.” And their sympathy was nearly unbearable. My saddle tattoo warmed as Andar finished securing Peaches’s bags and rubbed the horse’s shoulder. I slid up closer to Andar. I wasn’t as comfortable with horses as he was, but I was no stranger to them.
I gripped the saddle, bracing to lift my foot into the stirrup, when Andar cupped his hands and bent down. A sheepish grin crept onto his face. “I know you can jump up, but I’m right here, so I might as well make it easier for you.”
I stared at his hands. This was the sort of thing I used to have soldiers or slaves do. Why would he want to make it easier for me?
“And no,” he added with an eyeroll. “You won’t owe me anything for it. There is no debt for a two-second kindness.”
My indecision was making it take much more than two seconds.
With that thought, I stepped onto his hands.
Air caught in my throat as he tossed me up faster than I expected.
I swung my leg over the saddle and landed neatly—he’d been more effective and more gentle than my memories of soldiers or slaves.
He patted my knee and turned toward Sabir. “This will just take a few minutes, and we’ll be ready to go.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I watched him smooth a blanket, strap down the saddle, and finish getting his horse ready. The spot on my knee was still warm from his gesture, and the heat was working its way up to my heart.
How did he keep touching the organ that I’d deliberately walled off?
There were reasons I’d blocked its emotions, but—in this moment—I couldn’t think of any.
My mind was not willing to think of anything besides the fact that I wanted this fae.
I wanted his no-debt kindnesses and his fiery eyes and warm touches.
And I wanted them to be mine, not a pretend me that kept getting little pieces of him as part of our charade.
What would it take to make him mine?
If you have enough power, you can demand anything you like. My parents’ solution. The most frequent advice they gave me.
Somehow, I did not think any degree of power would convince Andar to stay with me. He finished preparing his horse and hopped into the saddle, leaning forward to whisper something to the animal.
I sighed. The more time we spent in this city, the more relaxed and attractive Andar became.
Attractive? I checked myself. He hadn’t changed his appearance—he was just as tall, muscle-bound, blue-eyed, and black-haired as when we’d first met—but all the unexplainable kindnesses he’d done for me made him terrifyingly attractive.
I was closer to the door, so I nudged my horse toward it. Just as Peaches put his head outside, a loud, irritatingly familiar voice cried out.
“Mallifuff!”
“Oh no,” I moaned under my breath.
Bummel’s voice returned. “But how did you get here, my ferocious equinox?”
“Just equine,” a tired voice corrected him. Aakil. The librarian.
The door swung open to reveal Amador’s curious face. So all three of them were still together… though clearly not performing for the queen of Kerebos.
“How did you come to be riding on this gelding?” Amador peered up at me as he asked. His voice was not so demanding as it was filled with the ragged edge of a fae who was tired and annoyed at the world.
“You are in no place to question me,” I hissed, dropping the glamour around my face and hoping nobody outside of the stable could hear or see me.
Amador’s brows popped up. “Your Majesty!” He bowed his head and elbowed Bummel, who did the same. “We did not expect to see you here.”
I folded my arms. “Nor did I expect to see you. I thought you were performing in Kerebos?”
Each of them let out a different sort of sigh.
Aakil rolled his eyes, Bummel shook his head dramatically, and Amador lifted his expression to mine.
“Tragically, our journey has been something of a disaster. The queen’s wedding has been cancelled, and we are returning home without pay.
After the money we spent traveling and…the money we will spend replacing our horses, it has become a very expensive trip. ”
At least his trip wasn’t frequently interrupted with obnoxious musicians.
A hand on my knee distracted me from the annoying fae.
Andar’s hand. He must have climbed down from his horse while I was talking.
He leaned close to me with a look that encouraged me to bend down so he could whisper.
I bent at the waist, and he shifted to speak in my ear.
The heat from his lips close to my skin sent a warm shiver through me…
and then his words chilled and froze that heat.
“Perhaps it is time to return the geldings.”
My jaw fell. I snapped it shut and straightened up in my saddle. “Why would we do that?” It wasn’t our fault they didn’t have more money.
Andar smiled, and the fiery blue in his eyes burnt with a warm sincerity.
It was new, but it was not unpleasant. More endearing.
Something I wouldn’t mind seeing more often.
“Because,” he said, “it is in our power to make their lives more pleasant. My Gran used to say that when you improve someone else’s life, you also improve yours.
And I think both our lives could use some improvement. ”
My life had improved considerably since his lamp had washed into it. I hadn’t had to improve anyone else’s life for that.
Though… things hadn’t worsened when I’d given him a room outside his lamp. Or freed him. Or made him tea. In fact, everything had improved each of those times.
I studied Andar’s features. They’d grown more open. Was that really just his performance for me, or had all the things he’d done for me changed him during the last few days?
Was it changing me?
I needed a mirror.
Or a sheet of ice. I could make that and—
Andar gave my knee a gentle squeeze, bringing my mind back to the topic. The horses that he wanted to give away.
“How would we make our journey?” I asked.
Andar shrugged. “It’s less than a day’s ride to the Summer Chasm—an easy two-day walk. I’m sure we can find another set once we get into Veran if we want.”
I turned from him to the three worn-out fae in the wide doorframe. They looked too hopeful to say anything—until Bummel swept his hat off his head and wrung it between his hands. “It would mean the weeping world to us. Lift our hearts and make our souls sing.”
Huh. He’d managed that without messing up any of the words. I faced Andar again. I was more willing to do it because he wanted me to than for whatever good those other three—or I—needed. I wanted Andar to stay with me, and the best way to encourage that would be to do as he asked.
And he did ask nicely.
I leaned into the stirrup closest to Andar and lifted my other leg over the saddle. The glamour made layers of my non-existent dress flutter with the movement, but my simpler leather leggings made the dismount easy. I landed with a light hop and pointed at Andar. “I’ll do it for you, not them.”
He smiled, a youthful energy filling his face. “I’ll take it. The results will be the same.”
Bummel buried his face into the horse’s throat and started muttering. “Mallifuff! I feared we’d never see each other again. That you would be… Oh, Mallifuff!”
Aakil caught me staring. “We think he meant to call the gelding something like Magnific. Or Malik. Or Magnus.” He shrugged. “There’s only so much we can do.”
Bummel was a strange one. All the musicians were. But Aakil was the least obnoxious, so I turned my attention to him more fully. He caught my gaze and bowed his head, perhaps realizing he’d been less formal with me than he should have.
“We are grateful, Your Majesty,” Aakil said, drawing the attention of the other two. “I fear this is a debt we cannot repay.”
There is no debt. Andar’s insistence over the last few days almost answered without permission, but those were his words. They would not come so easily from my mouth.
“It is not a debt you are meant to repay,” I said instead. “Also—” I extended my hand and wrapped it in magic. “I would like to end our previous bargain.”
Bummel shifted closer. “Your Majesty is most generous—”
“It is nothing to do with generosity,” I interrupted. “I decided I’d like to wait to announce my return. I have… some things to take care of first.”
A harmonica appeared in Bummel’s hand. As he lifted it to his lips, I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. “Stop. Sing my praises after we part ways.”
The terrifying instrument disappeared into the folds of his cloak. “As you wish.”