Chapter 10 #2
Lareth, I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been four months since my arrival at Beinn Ork, and I’ve heard nothing from home. Not from Mother, nor my sisters, not even from Caeryth, who would write to a stone if she believed it might write back.
Aeryn paused, gathering her thoughts.
I’ve sent multiple letters already. I’ve sought to reassure everyone that I am well-treated and adapting to my new circumstances. Yet no response has come. I cannot help but wonder whether my words have reached their intended hands at all.
Dipping her quill again, she continued.
I ask you now, as one I trust, to confirm whether my family has received my correspondence. If they have not, I would be grateful if you might inform them that I am safe, though missing them dearly.
Aeryn signed the letter with a flourish, folded the parchment, and pressed the crease flat before sealing it with wax. She would drop it off in the morning before training.
Standing from the desk, the door opened and Khaeric leaned his head in. “I was headin’ to the baths,” he said. “Wanted to see if ye would join me?”
Aeryn glanced at the sealed letter on the desk, then back at Khaeric. The knot in her chest hadn’t loosened, and the silence from her family still pressed heavily against her ribs. But refusing would mean staying here, alone with her thoughts spiraling into darker territory.
“Yes,” she said, though the word came out flatter than she’d intended.
Khaeric stepped back from the doorway and waited while she gathered a few things: clean linens, a bar of the herb-scented soap she’d preferred. They walked in silence, the crystal clusters casting their steady glow across the walls until they reached Clan Druin’s communal bathing chamber.
Steam rose in lazy curls from the water’s surface. Khaeric moved toward one of the smaller pools set apart from the main bathing area where Mael was already relaxing.
He set his own supplies on the smooth stone ledge, then reached for the buckles of his leather vest. The fastenings came loose, and he shrugged the garment off, draping it across the ledge.
Next came is tunic and breeches before walking into the water.
She set her own linens down and drew the dress over her head, folding it beside Khaeric’s discarded clothing before joining him and Mael.
Aeryn lowered herself onto the smooth stone bench beside Khaeric, the water rising to her shoulders. The communal baths were less daunting, though a flutter of self-consciousness still followed her inside.
Across from them, Mael lounged with his arms stretched along the edge, his lean frame relaxed against the stone. His pale green skin caught the dim light, and his gray eyes tracked their arrival with the analytical scrutiny she expected.
“Princess. Ye’re lookin’ less like a startled rabbit these days.”
Her lips twitched. “You’re as charming as always, Mael.”
“I’m remarkably skilled at it,” he replied, entirely serious.
The heat of the water pressed against Aeryn’s skin, but it did nothing to loosen the tightness in her chest. She let herself sink deeper; the water rising to her chin as she tilted her head back against the edge of the pool.
Four months.
The thought drifted through her mind unbidden. Were they well? Or had they simply forgotten about her, relieved to have fulfilled their political obligation?
A sudden splash shattered her spiraling thoughts. Water erupted across the pool’s surface as Khaeric lunged forward, his hands closing around Mael’s shoulders. Before the scholar could react, Khaeric dragged him under.
The water churned, pale green limbs thrashing against darker gray as both orcs disappeared beneath the surface. Then they surfaced in a spray of water, Mael sputtering, shoving Khaeric. “Ye absolute—” His words cut off as Khaeric dunked him again, briefer this time, mischief outweighing malice.
When Mael came up the second time, wet strands clung to his face, silver eyes blazing. “Childish brute,” he finished, wiping water from his eyes while keeping one palm braced against Khaeric’s chest.
Khaeric laughed, unabashed.
“How unfortunate,” Mael said, his voice carrying aristocratic disdain, “that the future High Chieftain’s intellect remains so tragically underdeveloped. Perhaps if ye spent less time preening in the arena—”
Mael moved too quickly for Aeryn to follow. One hand hooked behind Khaeric’s knee while the other struck Khaeric’s chest. Khaeric toppled backward with a tremendous splash, his arms flailing as he went under.
He emerged moments later, sputtering and shaking water from his hair.
Mael regarded him with supreme satisfaction, his lips curved into a smile so slight and so smug it barely qualified as one. “As I was sayin’ about intellect being tragically underdeveloped…”
The two orcs collided again, this time with Khaeric catching Mael around the waist and lifting him bodily from the water.
“No—” Mael’s protest ended in a splash as Khaeric hurled him backward. Waves rolled across the bath, sloshing against the edges. Other bathers had fallen silent, watching with expressions ranging from amusement to fond exasperation.
When Mael surfaced this time, he swept his wet hair back with both hands. Aeryn caught the ghost of genuine amusement in his eyes before he schooled his features back into their usual austere lines. “Are ye quite finished?”
Mael hauled himself from the pool in one fluid motion. Water streamed down his lean frame as he settled on the stone edge, legs dangling into the water.
Aeryn fixed her gaze on the far wall. The casual nudity still unsettled her. She understood there was no shame in it here, but her upbringing whispered otherwise.
“Ye’re starin’ at the wall as if it insulted ye,” Khaeric murmured near her ear.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I’m admiring the stonework.”
Khaeric’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “The stonework. Of course.”
Mael seemed unconcerned, as comfortable in his skin as every other orc she’d encountered.
Beneath the water, Khaeric’s hand slid along her thigh, moving higher with deliberate slowness.
Aeryn glanced sharply at him, but his attention had already shifted back to Mael. “So ye’ll actually show tomorrow, then? Or will ye find another dusty scroll that requires yer urgent attention?”
“I said I’d be there.” Mael said dryly. “Unlike some, I honor my commitments.”
Khaeric’s fingers brushed the apex of her thighs, and Aeryn’s breath caught. Her hand shot beneath the water, snatching his wrist. He stilled, but didn’t withdraw. His amber eyes held hers, questioning. The warmth of his palm lingered against her inner thigh.
After a beat, she released his wrist with the slightest nod.
His fingers moved, tracing slow circles. Khaeric’s other arm slid around her waist, and before she could fully register the shift, he drew her through the water. She settled in his lap, her back pressed against his chest, facing Mael.
His thighs bracketed hers beneath the water, spreading her legs. His hand returned to where it had been, fingers finding the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Aeryn bit her lower lip as his fingers slid through her folds. Her hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into the dense muscle.
“Ye were sayin’ somethin’ about commitments?” Khaeric asked, voice steady.
Mael’s gray eyes flicked to her face, then back to Khaeric. “Aye. I was makin’ the point that some of us keep our word.”
Khaeric’s touch grew more purposeful, circling Aeryn’s sensitive bud with a pressure that made her thighs tense against his. The water lapped at her ribs, but Khaeric moved his grip on her waist, pulling her higher against his chest.
The movement lifted her breasts clear of the water. The air kissed her wet skin, and she felt her nipples harden in response. Her breathing had gone shallow, each exhale careful.
Mael’s attention hadn’t wavered from the conversation, his expression composed in its usual scholarly detachment. He knew. The way Khaeric held her, the change in her breathing, the flush spreading across her chest—everything was perfectly visible.
Still, Mael spoke as though they were discussing the weather. “The archives have been particularly demandin’ of late. Several texts require restoration.”
Khaeric’s finger pressed inside her, and Aeryn’s hands clenched harder against his thighs. Her walls clenched around the thick digit as he worked it deeper, curling slightly as he withdrew before pushing back in.
“Restoration,” Khaeric echoed, his voice carrying casual interest while his finger continued its steady rhythm. “Sounds tedious.”
“It requires patience,” Mael retorted. “A virtue ye’ve never possessed in abundance.”
A second finger joined the first, drawing a sharper gasp from Aeryn before she could swallow it. Her core tightened, pleasure coiling low in her belly as Khaeric’s fingers moved inside her.
Mael’s eyes drifted to her face and lingered before returning to Khaeric. No judgment colored his expression, no shock or disgust.
“Ye should join us more often in the baths,” Khaeric said as his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles. “Instead of hidin’ away wi’ yer scrolls.”
The rhythm shifted—faster now, more insistent. Each thrust of Khaeric’s fingers sent pulses of pleasure through her. The surrounding water rippled, small waves lapping at her exposed breasts.
“I’m no’ hidin’,” Mael protested. “I’m workin’.”
Khaeric’s fingers curled inside her, finding a spot that made her entire body tense. The pressure built rapidly, spiraling through her core once his thumb pressed harder against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Workin’,” Khaeric repeated, his low voice vibrating against her back. “Is that what ye call it?”
The tension wound higher, her thighs trembling against his. A soft whimper escaped her throat.
“Among other things,” Mael said.
Pleasure seized her, stealing breath as her body clenched around his fingers.
A broken moan echoed off the stone walls.
Her head fell back against Khaeric’s shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut as the sensation rippled outward in fading waves.
His fingers remained inside her, gentler now, drawing out the last tremors until her body finally went slack in his arms.
Only then did he slip his hand away and lower her back into the water until it covered her breasts once more. His arm remained firm around her waist, keeping her in his lap.
“I should return to my work.” Mael rose from the pool’s edge and reached for a drying cloth. He wrapped it around his waist. “Unlike some, I have responsibilities that require my attention.”
“Tomorrow,” Khaeric called after him.
Mael paused at the entrance and glanced back over his shoulder. “Tomorrow.” He disappeared through the archway.
They’d mentioned something about tomorrow twice now—some shared obligation or arrangement that apparently required Mael’s presence despite his obvious reluctance to commit to anything beyond his precious scrolls.
She had no idea what they were talking about.
The warmth of Khaeric’s body against her back should have been comforting. Instead, the knot remained, tight and insistent, refusing to loosen despite the pleasure that had just rolled through her.
Khaeric shifted behind her, his chest expanding as he drew a deep breath. His fingers traced idle patterns against her hip beneath the water.
She should say something. Ask him about whatever he and Mael had planned for tomorrow. Make some light observation about their ridiculous wrestling match. But the words wouldn’t come.