40. Rahzlyn
Rahzlyn
I awoke with an insatiable craving between my legs.
At some point I’d drifted to sleep, with blazing eyes framed by black curls having replaced the drowning nightmare.
Tempted to let my fingers take care of the need stoked by last night’s encounter, I settled into the bed and slid my hand down my torso.
I hiked my nightgown up, my breath catching as I pretended my hands were his—large and strong and heartbreakingly curious.
My manhood is far from insufficient. Such a silly phrase—born from a poorly executed retort—shouldn’t have turned me on so much. I’d never ached so fiercely for a man. Not even Kole.
Letti’s abrupt knocks cooled my arousal. With a frustrated groan, I readied myself—physically and mentally—before granting her entrance.
Letti’s disruption was for the best. It was one thing to trust Raithe and find his company safe.
Comforting, even. It was another, forbidden thing entirely to yearn for his presence and ache in his absence.
If I touched myself, Felaf would hear everything, and I wouldn’t be able to face her afterward.
Still, I feared it was only a matter of time before I gave in, chasing the forbidden fantasy of Raithe.
The rest of the day dragged on slowly as my mind drifted to Raithe’s bedroom, wondering what he thought of last night. I knew desire when I saw it.
I missed Mel’s company more than ever. She’d be relieved to hear me gush about someone other than her brother for a change, especially when her brother paled in comparison to the flutters Raithe elicited in my chest.
My distraction earned chastising gripes from the advisors that I chose to ignore, along with additional reading assignments I now found myself trying to catch up on.
Exhausted and defeated after hours with Gregorios, I sat in my bed with a book on hudro propped between my knees, having reread the same line over and over. To have power over anything, especially the sacred element of water, one must first have power within oneself.
I skimmed through the book in frustration. How could I have power that I didn’t yet have? I wasn’t getting any closer to finding hudro, and the clock was ticking. And I wasn’t going to focus until I talked to Raithe again.
When at last darkness blanketed the room, I snapped the book shut, hopped over the stream of water surrounding my bed, and burst into the hall. I told myself it was to clear the air, but deep down it was more than that.
I found Raithe standing stoic as expected. I grinned, feeling elated from the weight of the realm’s expectations at the mere sight of him.
Something was… off. He didn’t turn back to look at me. I ignored the quiet warning creeping in the back of my mind. “Sleep well, today?”
“Fine.” His voice lacked any semblance of knowing.
My smile faded. “Everything alright?”
With his eyes locked forward, his arms at his back, he might as well have been a portrait—a statue. He was only a few inches taller than me, so when I stepped in front of him, I figured he had no choice but to meet my gaze. He looked right through me. My stomach sank.
“Have I offended you?” At his continued cold silence, I demanded, “So, that’s it. You’re ignoring me now?”
His jaw clenched. Seconds ticked by. Anger replaced my apprehension.
“Are we not even going to talk about what happened last night?”
“Nothing happened last night,” Raithe said. His nostrils flared in warning.
I resisted the urge to flinch. “Nothing happened?” We both knew that wasn’t true. “You’re being cruel.”
“I’m being your guardian.”
He wasn’t wrong. Still, my heart refused to hear reason. It only heard rejection. “I thought we—”
“I comforted you when you needed it. That’s all. Do you fall for every man who shows you a sliver of kindness?”
I sucked in a breath, and I could have sworn he did too. “Perhaps my mistake was ever thinking you capable of such a thing. Thank you for reminding me of who you are.” I waited a few seconds longer, secretly hoping he would prove my doubts wrong.
“Of who we both are,” he clarified. “Anything else, Princess?”
My heart cracked a little. He’d never called me by my title before.
It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. I fled before he could see my quivering lips.
Once inside my room, I let my tears flow quietly free.
My pillow muffled what little sounds slipped out of me, but Raithe undoubtedly could hear it all.
Good.
Beyond my forbidden desire for him, I thought we’d found a kinship beneath our hostility: an understanding, an acceptance of one another. But all of that had vanished, dissolved by his piercing indifference.
In the weeks that followed, the servants grew bolder with their gossiping. Some maids called me cursed, others called me a fraud. The guards, at least, had more tact to keep their thoughts to themselves.
All the while Raithe met my stiff greetings with detachment colder than the frigid tundra of Pisces. Even Felaf detected a shift in his demeanor.
“Did Mercury retrograde your attitude lately?” She’d pestered him one evening when he came to relieve her of her post as I stepped outside my chamber. “You’re moodier than usual. And for you that’s saying something.”
I concealed my snort with a forced cough into my shoulder. It was the one time I thought he might have looked right at me, but I was only imagining it.
“Sleep well, Felaf.”
She flashed a smile at me, followed by a wary glance at Raithe, before disappearing around the corner.
I cleared my throat. “I’m heading to the dining hall.” The kitchens with Nio were too reminiscent of our recent evenings together.
“Maryn is there at present.”
I stiffened at his first words to me. My gaze slid up his broad chest. It aggravated me how good he looked by simply standing there. “Wonderful,” I said tersely. “Off we go.”
“After you.”
“Fine.” I brushed past him. He trailed after me in silence, leaving me to my noisy thoughts.
These past weeks I’d diverted my attention to my studies instead of letting myself sulk. The men in my life had dictated my self-worth for too long.
Admittedly, I didn’t mind the dancing portion of my lessons.
Each territory had its own style of music and subsequent dance etiquette that I was expected to perform following my trial at my coronation ball with the other royals.
What I’d dreamt about all my life was coming to fruition—in ways I never could have imagined.
More pressingly, I had to master Scorpio’s dances before the upcoming ball for the barons.
When the pressure built and my emotions became too much, I relied on Raithe’s grounding technique. It didn’t have nearly the same effect without the deepness of his voice or pinning fervency of his eyes.
Stars, I was too dependent on others.
I reached the dining hall and found Maryn seated at the head of the round table large enough for nearly thirty individuals.
Barto and Chessah stood along the wall, their faces smug.
I glowered in Chessah’s direction, making my loathing known before shifting my anger to Maryn.
She sat poised in her chair, dressed in a shimmering black gown, her sleeves once again mirroring the glyphs Chosens bore.
Behind her, the wall gave way to a balcony with plants and a waterfall that spewed over the edge where the sun loomed on the horizon.
The hall was gorgeous, with its dramatic stonework and black and crimson decor. The stone walls bore hundreds of years of secrets from every conversation that once took place in this room. I tried to believe I was worthy of existing in such a sacred space.
I approached the onyx table, opting for a seat as far from Maryn as possible.
We’d exchanged a handful of words since my intervention in the training yard.
Maryn’s silverware clinked in ignorance of my presence, plucking at the delectable feast sprawled between us.
I was relieved to learn that no untouched leftovers went to waste.
Instead, they were distributed amongst the staff.
Awkward tension permeated the air as a member from the kitchens set my area of the table with dishes and appropriate silverware. The woman poured water from a pitcher into one glass and a generous amount of red wine into another.
“Queen Regent,” I greeted finally. One of us had to break the ice.
“The ball for the barons is next week.” Maryn’s voice serrated the tension and grated my ears. “The advisors tell me you still don’t have the names of the barons and their family members memorized.”
“Yes, but I have memorized the dances.”
The servant decorated my plates with roasted carrots, buttered salmon, steaming bread rolls, golden potatoes, and a nutty green slice of cake. “Thank you,” I whispered to the woman. She averted her eyes to Maryn before walking away.
“Dancing is not the only impression you need to be making on your nobles,” Maryn said. “The barons are representatives of the people. They govern regions of the queendom in the absence of the queen regent, ensuring taxes are collected and carrying out my orders.”
“The queen’s orders,” I clarified. “And isn’t a queen’s authority absolute compared to theirs?”
Her eyes narrowed. “They represent the reigning sovereign’s interests, overseeing the people the way I tell them to. And if they don’t respect their reigning sovereign, the result is calamitous mutiny.”
“I see,” I said, leaning back into my seat. “I learned it today during my lessons, which you were noticeably absent from. Again.”
Maryn’s smile was chilling. “Do tell what you learned, nomad. How to read?”
“I read the Treaty of the Twelve crafted by the very first Chosens. Chosens must adhere to all twelve decrees, yet it’s the barons and baronesses who hold their territory’s court accountable to them.
The Treaty states any violations of it can be punishable by death, but any death of a Chosen must first be voted unanimously on by their barons.
Same for regent replacements. From there, the congregation of all twelve courts is called to also vote—”