CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
Ilain faced him fully, adjusting the shoulder of her dress when it tried to slip down.
“Ethenn, I understand that you’re still new to the concept of living for centuries,” she said.
“But try to fathom this: The age difference between you and me . . . It’s a fragment.
I don’t see you as a child because of your youth any more than you see me as an old maid.
Yes, I have lived longer than you. And yet, I’d wager that you’ve lived more life—more real life—than I because I was stuck in Doorstunds Reach training for over twenty years. ”
“That’s the whole of my lifetime.”
“Believe me,” she said, holding his gaze steadily, “it’s made me no more experienced than you—not in the ways that matter.”
Though Ethenn wasn’t altogether sure she was correct, he recognized that he wasn’t an authority on romantic relationships and the effects of age disparities within them.
He’d never had a serious romance in his life, and while Ilain was twenty-two years his senior, she neither acted nor looked like it.
At his lack of response, Ilain straightened her shoulders, her grin turning sly once more. “Now, do you want to watch me get changed or not?” she asked bluntly.
Ethenn blinked, caught off guard by the offer. His initial reaction was to be a gentleman, to turn away and give her privacy. But then he thought of her pronouncement that this was a marriage—though it be probationary—and they ought to treat it like one.
“Honestly?” Ethenn said, then shrugged. “Yes.”
Ilain’s confidence slipped. “You do?”
“Yes.”
Her face scrunched in dramatic shock. “No!”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I wanted to see you blush.”
Surprisingly, Ethenn found himself laughing. “I hate to inform you, Ilain, but I’m not that innocent.”
Ilain narrowed her eyes, inspecting him as though he were wholly incomprehensible. “Have you seen a naked woman before?” she asked, a hint of incredulity in her tone.
Ethenn pressed his lips together, trying to determine how honest to be.
The shoulder of her dress slipped again, revealing the thin strap of her chemise, and she shimmied it back up.
He tipped his chin toward her hand, still holding the sleeve in place.
“Are you going to change or not?” he challenged.
After several seconds of hesitation, a slow, bashful grin worked its way over Ilain’s face.
And without any more ceremony, she tugged her arms free of the sleeves to work the dress down and over her hips.
Its silky fabric puddled on the floor around her feet, leaving her standing only in her cotton undergarments.
Ethenn drew in a deep breath. The chemise’s hem ended just below her knees.
Her arms, decolletage, and lower legs were bare, displaying just how creamy white her skin really was.
She looked like porcelain compared to his naturally deep tan complexion, her delicacy like a fragile doll or elegant statue.
Even more alluring, the moonlight streaming through the window beamed through the chemise like it was gossamer, silhouetting her lithe, feminine figure perfectly.
Ilain didn’t exactly meet the Ephrian ideal image of a woman with her trim, narrow frame, long limbs, and angular shape.
But somehow, that made her even more attractive to Ethenn.
His jaw twitched, and he realized he’d clamped it shut as he stared at her.
Ilain shifted uncomfortably on her dainty feet. “I need to put on my nightdress,” she said, motioning toward the bed.
Ethenn nodded but didn’t move. “Yes,” he said, answering her previous question. “I’ve seen naked women before.”
Ilain flinched. “Women?” she repeated, emphasizing the plural nature of the word.
Choosing to set her at ease, Ethenn moved to shut the curtains. “Not many, but I didn’t exactly spend my time in Trollenston’s most reputable establishments.”
“And where did you spend your time?”
“In a shady tavern and fighting clubs.” He turned back to see her sliding her nightdress, a simple, sleeveless thing made of a far thicker cotton, over the chemise. “Granted, I was there to fight or drink, not to see the women. They were just sort of . . . there.”
Sneakily working the undergarment off under the nightdress, Ilain kept her eyes on her task, ensuring she maintained what little sense of modesty she had left. “I had no idea Ephria could be so debauched,” she said with amusement.
“We’re not all Jonn Deckard,” Ethenn said, smiling at her strange blend of decorum and brashness.
“Evidently not.” Ilain lifted the chemise from the floor with her foot before straightening abruptly. She stared at Ethenn with something like worry. “Have you . . . made love to a woman?“
An instant, nervous laugh worked out of him. “No.”
She gave a steady, relieved nod and began folding the chemise.
A strange compulsion to be brutally honest drove Ethenn to add, “But I did get close once.”
Ilain paused. “You did?”
He shrugged.
“Hm.” Ilain turned to stare at the wall in thought. “I don’t like that.”
“And I don’t like that you wear provocative gowns that other men purchase to win your affection,” he returned. “We’re all hypocrites.”
She gave him a decidedly unamused smirk. “She must have been quite special, this one woman.”
Ethenn couldn’t decide if she sounded jealous or just disappointed in his impurity. “Not special, just . . . willing.”
“I see.” Ilain tucked the chemise and a few other items back into the bag before setting it on the floor next to his boots.
Hearing the accusatory nature of her words, Ethenn couldn’t help his smile. “I’m telling you these things, Ilain, because I want you to understand,” he said. “I’m not your knight in shining armor. I’m not Deckard, and I’m not particularly honorable. But . . .”
Ethenn paused, considering whether revealing these parts of himself was the right choice.
If he didn’t want to be the man she desired—if he couldn’t be that man—then he ought to save himself the heartache of growing even more attached to her, of pretending that she could ever love him the way he loved her.
“But . . . ?” Ilain prompted him softly. She stood beside the bed, looking small and lovely in the dim light. Her hair shone like the brightest fire. And his breath caught, recognizing that she was there; she’d come to him, chosen him, even if it wasn’t out of the same regard he carried for her.
Choosing to take Deckard’s advice, Ethenn came to stand an arm’s length away, the bedside rug bristling against his bare feet.
“But I love you,” he said. “I pledged my life to you. And no matter what you think of me, no matter what you wish I could be that I’m not .
. . I will do what I can to make you happy, even if I’m not the one you truly want. ”
Ilain stood there for several long seconds, playing with the tie on the collar of her nightdress absentmindedly.
Ethenn’s gaze dipped, catching the smallest glimpse of the creamy skin beneath, feeling the heat rising in his back.
He imagined tugging that ribbon free, loosening the collar, and kissing every inch of flesh, every freckle along her sharp collarbone.
His throat went dry, and he met her eyes again.
“I think,” Ilain finally said, “we should go to bed.”
“Go to bed?” Ethenn asked. “Or go to sleep?”
The faintest pink tinged her cheeks, and he was pleased to find that he could make her blush too. “To sleep,” she clarified.
Though Ethenn wasn’t entirely sure what he would have said if she’d chosen the other option, he nodded. “I agree.” He glanced at the mattress. “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“This bed is made for only one person.”
Her signature grin lifted the edge of her lips. “I guess we’ll just have to cuddle then,” she said.
While Ethenn’s imagination conjured less than chaste thoughts of such behavior, Ilain left him standing there and climbed under the blankets. Since the bed was pushed into the corner of the room, she lay with her back against the wall, providing ample room for him on the outer edge.
Ethenn hesitated, unsure of what to do. Usually, he slept in his shirt alone, as was the habit of most Ephrian men. But with Ilain next to him, he wasn’t sure he cared to be so . . . free. So he kept his trousers on, not bothering to remove his shirt either.
With a deep breath of courage, Ethenn joined Ilain under the blankets.
It took a good deal of shifting to get comfortable, and he wasn’t sure whether he should be elated or uncomfortable with the way her body pressed into his side.
He kept his arms and hands to himself, but still, she snuggled against him as though this was perfectly normal behavior for them.
Ethenn stared at the crimson canopy over their heads, Ilain’s breath heating his collar as his neck burned with a blush. Her feet first only brushed his, then stayed tucked against his soles. It was difficult sharing a pillow, but somehow, they managed. Her hair tickled his cheek.
“This isn’t exactly cuddling,” Ilain whispered, the words overly loud right next to his ear.
“I’m not very good at that,” he admitted.
“What is there to be good at? You just do it.”
“I don’t.”
“You live a sad life.”
That he did.
“And who have you been cuddling with?” he asked in a manner somewhere between agitated and playful. “I thought you were beyond reproach.”
“I am,” she returned. “My family is very affectionate.”
Ethenn snorted. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m trying to picture Auden cuddling with anyone, and it just doesn’t work.”
She poked his side, and he jerked, turning into her involuntarily. “My brother may be an academic bore, but he has the most loving heart you’ll ever know.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Ethenn shifted, trying not to notice the press of her chest against his arm.
She set her chin on his shoulder. “You’re supposed to put your arm around me, you know.”
Ethenn shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Do you remember me saying I’m not very honorable?”