CHAPTER TWO #3
Deckard nodded. “Yes, thank you, Thom, you’re right.” He looked at Vayden and Isla then. “And you have a family to spend time with. We appreciate your welcome and hospitality, but we don’t want to forestall your reunion any longer.”
Vayden’s chin lifted in gratitude. Whether or not it was genuine, Evylin couldn’t tell. “In that case,” he said, rising, “allow me to escort you back to Maurus. He’ll have your rooms ready, I’m sure.”
As one, the Ephrians rose, their chairs scraping against the wooden floor. Ilain remained in her seat a few moments longer, her fingers tapping against the tabletop in agitation. The men began to move away, but Evylin paused and leaned down.
“Don’t take it personally,” she whispered. “You’re still our friend.”
Ilain’s eyes widened, then she laughed. “Oh, Evie,” she said with a sigh. She stood, grinning like her old self. “You are delightfully obtuse sometimes.”
“Excuse me?” Evylin said, unsure if she should be offended.
Ilain dipped her head closer. “I’ll give you a hint,” she said, slipping her arm through Evylin’s. “What’s five foot, seven inches with shaggy brown hair and a blush to rival Reyana’s?”
Evylin smirked. “Ethenn.”
“Precisely.”
Allowing Ilain to lead her out of the room, Evylin moved behind the group and back into the hotel’s lobby.
Maurus awaited them at his desk, reading his book.
Evylin tried to catch a glimpse of the title but failed as the clerk handed out keys and gave directions to their rooms. He’d given them an entire wing on the third floor, it seemed.
“Best rooms in the place,” Maurus said. “You’ll find the bathing chambers at the end of the hall, one for the men and one for the ladies.
My son, Hendrin, brought in your saddlebags.
” He gestured to the stack behind the counter, and Thom and Ethenn began to hand them out.
“And earlier, he lit the stoves and stocked each room with additional provisions. You’ll find some new clothes, soaps, oils, those sorts of things.
If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. ”
“Thank you,” Deckard said, taking both his and Evylin’s saddlebags.
Maurus smiled. “It’s our pleasure,” he said, eyes darting to the empty foyer. “What with what all you’re doing for our people.”
Vayden, Isla, and Reyana parted from the troop on the second floor, heading to their previously acquired room.
Evylin glanced after them, wondering what they intended to do with their daughter if the Alliance approved their place on the team.
They couldn’t bring a thirteen-year-old along with them to recover the Relics.
Would they send her to live with family?
Did the Calders have other family? Ilain had mentioned their parents living in the province of the Highloft Moors, but that was at least a week’s journey from Mouroc.
Would they send the girl such a distance alone?
Up the next flight of stairs, they found their rooms at the back of the building, nearest to the bathing chambers.
Six rooms lined the hall, one each for Thom, Rafferty, Ethenn, Ilain, and Auden.
A final room for Evylin and Deckard was at the very end—Maurus had been specific about its location, telling them the other rooms were singles and wouldn’t suit a couple.
Though Evylin only caught a glimpse of Thom’s room across the hall from theirs, the reason was evident in that brief sighting alone.
The singles were narrow, small spaces, though well-lit by a tall window and well-dressed with single-person beds.
However, stepping into her room with Deckard, Evylin felt that Maurus had vastly undersold the difference.
Their room wasn’t just larger—it was a suite.
The crimson wallpaper and mahogany paneling continued through the room, little gold flecks in the damask catching in the oil lamps’ light.
A small stove sat in the corner, heating the room with a two-person table at its side, already dressed for tea, while a kettle awaited warming over the burner.
Heavy draperies pulled back on either side, a grand window flooded the room with light.
It overlooked the back of the building, giving a glimpse of the triangular courtyard.
A golden chandelier, simple but elegant, hung over a settee with brown paper-wrapped packages waiting to be opened.
At the back of the room stood a wardrobe and a changing screen.
And in the center, a large, four-poster bed with crimson curtains and matching bedding beckoned her.
Deckard shut the door, and Evylin’s shoulders slumped as she stared at the bed. “Do you think we have time for a nap?” she asked.
A soft chuckle escaped him. He moved to set the saddlebags next to the packages on the tea table. “It’s,” he glanced at the clock on the side table, “a quarter past two, and Vayden said the meeting is set to begin at seven, so I’d say, yes.”
Evylin sighed and flopped face-first onto the bed. “Praise Allore,” she mumbled into the comforter. Then she lifted her head to look at Deckard, propping herself on her elbows. “When is dinner?”
He took a seat at the foot of the bed. “We just ate, and you’re already concerned about dinner?”
“We had a snack,” she corrected. “And I haven’t eaten properly in months. Now, when Vayden was giving you our schedule, did he happen to mention when we’ll be eating?”
Deckard smiled fondly. “He did.”
“And?”
“The meeting includes a meal.”
Evylin pursed her lips. “Well, at least we’ll have nourishment while we listen to people drone on for hours.”
“You expect the meeting to be boring?”
“My father is a magistrate,” she reminded him. “I grew up going to ‘hearings.’ All of them were boring. And none of them had food.”
“Poor child.”
Evylin poked his thigh. “Don’t mock me,” she said. “I’m testy when I’m hungry and even more so when I’m tired.”
Deckard snatched her hand from the bed and kissed her knuckles. “So I’ve learned. But may I make a suggestion?”
“If you must.”
“Perhaps you’d enjoy your nap more should you take a bath first.”
Evylin sucked in her bottom lip, enjoying the tender way Deckard was looking at her, yet feeling shy all the same. “Are you suggesting that I smell poorly?” she teased.
He shifted farther onto the bed, moving to sit at her side. She rolled over to look up at him, and he dipped his head lower. “Not at all,” he promised. His fingers traced the edge of her braid, which trailed across the comforter. “I’m merely thinking of your comfort.”
With Deckard hovering over her like that, Evylin found words rather difficult. She wasn’t yet accustomed to the newfound intimacy in their marriage. For all their flirting and time together, for all their kisses and united feelings, her body still faltered when she thought of being with him again.
Evylin wondered if he could see her unsteady pulse thrumming through her veins.
She didn’t know whether she wanted him to kiss her or if she wanted to run from the room and hide.
“Then perhaps,” she murmured, the words coming out in a breath as she held his green-blue gaze, “you ought to move away so I can get up.”
He drew his thumb along her jaw. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, then leaned closer.
Evylin’s hand shot up, pressing against his chest to keep him back. “Jonn,” she warned, “if you kiss me now, I—I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”
His jaw twitched with a faint smile that turned into a grimace. “I’m not sure I would be able to either,” he admitted, then pulled away with a heavy sigh. He climbed off the bed, reaching for her hands. “Come on. We ought to get ourselves moving so you can get to your nap.”
Evylin let him pull her from the bed, even as she groaned.
She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for his practicality or annoyed by it.
As he helped her search through the packages and gather supplies for a bath, she found herself wishing she’d let him kiss her, nap be damned.
But being the conscientious and solicitous man he was, Deckard sent her off into the hall, arms loaded with a fresh change of clothes, a towel, and soaps, with the promise of a fresh pot of tea on her return.
While lounging in one of the oversized tubs within the women’s bathing chamber, Evylin decided she was, in fact, grateful for Deckard’s practicality.
It’d been far too long since she’d had a good soaking bath, possibly since their time in Loclight two months ago.
Even at Renaul’s, the servant had scrubbed her skin with a fury, rushing through the process.
Now, Evylin leaned back, luxuriating in the steam and allowing the pads of her fingers to wrinkle.
When she began to doze and the water took on a chill, Evylin finally forced herself out of its embrace.
She toweled off and slipped into the new clothing provided for her by the Alliance.
Though not a perfect fit, they’d done well enough.
She tucked the white blouse into the light brown skirt she’d chosen, the petticoats soft against her legs.
Forgoing stockings, Evylin slipped out of the bathing chamber. The carpet tickled her toes as she darted down the hall to their room. Using the key Deckard had placed in with her supplies, she opened the door. The heady, floral scent of olifera and illus tea wafted to her nose.
“Oh, that smells divine,” Evylin remarked, then frowned, realizing Deckard wasn’t there. “Jonn?”
“Over here,” he called, peeking out from behind the changing screen. “I’m just putting things away.”
Evylin crossed the room, setting her belongings on the tea table on her way.
She found him tucking folded piles of clothing into the wardrobe.
“Jonn,” she said again, smiling. “We aren’t staying here for .
. . Well, surely, not longer than a few days.
Why are you wasting time stocking the wardrobe? ”
“It’s not a waste of time,” he said. “No matter how long we’re here, having piles of clothing and personal items strewn about the room will be a nuisance.”