Chapter 4 #2
“With the Domossans arriving soon, I’d like to send you and the children somewhere safer to continue your work away from court.
I think you can see why we were desperate for a specific type of tutor.
I’ve tried to coach them through releasing their magic, without much success.
You’re far better equipped than I am for the role. ”
“You do have other work to manage,” she offered lightly, feeling no shortage of relief she’d misunderstood him. He was only sending her away. Her heart rate kicked up again.
With a rumble of laughter, the king continued, “You’ve proven yourself invaluable, Miss Kiappa. As long as you’re comfortable, we’d be honored to have you remain a Guest of the King.”
“Thank you, I’d be honored to stay on. And,” she continued, shocked at how comfortable she’d become around the monarch, “I know this doesn’t look like it, but we’re making progress. The prince and princess are improving each day.”
“I was a young naughtbirin once, too. The things I created that your father had to save me from . . .” He patted her on the shoulder.
“We’re happy to have you in the family, Miss Kiappa.
Come, the staff will clean this up. Let me speak with my queen, and we’ll send word soon on where you’ll be going and when. ”
Word came that evening. Nesrina was reading in the grand library when a cough drew her attention from her book about extinct fae.
She hadn’t been able to focus on anything with any substance, mind occupied by the impending changes to her routine.
It was a servant, sent to retrieve her and deposit her in the king and queen’s family salon.
“Come, join us.” Queen Hevva beckoned Nesrina over to where she sat with her husband on a sofa before the roaring fire.
It was nearly summer, sure, but rooms in the stone-walled palace stayed chilly, even on the balmiest nights.
Perching on an unoccupied sofa, Nes eyed the tumbler of dark liquor in the king’s grip. The queen held a glass of wine in one hand, her other toying with her husband’s hair. Nesrina could go for a nightcap. Was that unprofessional?
“Have a drink?” the king asked.
The queen lifted her glass. “Your duties for the day are complete. Please, join us.”
“I will, thank you.”
“Whiskey or wine?” the servant inquired. It was the same man who had brought her into the family salon.
“Wine, please.” Within a breath, she clutched a green goblet of her own. She’d really wanted whiskey, like the king. But she recognized that it wasn’t the most ladylike of drinks, even though Papa always let her imbibe at home. Wine would have to do.
“Hevva and I have discussed the situation.”
Nesrina nodded and took a sip of her drink, jittery, untethered while she awaited news on her new landing place, her new routine.
“We decided,” Queen Hevva interjected, “to have you stay at Stormhill for a time.”
Nes stifled a gasp behind her goblet.
“It’s the second safest place in the kingdom,” the king continued. “And Kas’s—Lord Kahoth’s—windshifting will be helpful to control any . . . flying creations the children might bring into existence.”
Flying creations? For a split second, Nes questioned whether or not the royal pair knew of the first incident with the dragon on the west lawn. If they did, they’d never addressed it directly.
“We’ve already spoken with the children,” Queen Hevva went on. “They’re quite excited to visit their uncle, but my brother’s also a busy man. It’s imperative they leave him to his duties.”
“I understand. I’ll keep an eye on them at all times.” What could go wrong?
“You won’t be alone,” the queen assured her. “We’re sending their team, too.”
“And a guard,” the king chimed in, eyeing his wife.
“And a guard, Ehmet,” she reassured him, returning his gaze with a pat on the head before facing Nesrina once again.
“In the morning, you’ll leave for Stormhill.
We don’t expect any of you to teach while traveling, we only ask that you keep the children in their corporeal forms until you reach the manor. ”
“And after,” the king grumbled.
“Yes, dear. And after. At Stormhill, you can resume your usual schedules.”
Nesrina nodded, anxiety trembling beneath the blanket of warm calm provided by her wine. What usual schedule? Everything was going to change.
“Don’t fret, Miss Kiappa.” Queen Hevva smiled. “You will be well taken care of.”
“Do you have any questions?”
Two. She had two questions. Which guards would be accompanying them? And how long would they be staying? She voiced the second.
The king and queen shared a glance. “Possibly for the summer,” the king replied with a slight grimace.
“It pains us to be away from our babies for so long, but we need to get through this visit from Domos and the onslaught of summer visitors. And we’d like to give the children time and space to hone their magic in safety.”
The king nodded. “When all the hubbub is done”—he waved his hand around as if to gesture at his untenable busy schedule—“we’ll spend a few days at our summer cottage as a family, then return home.”
They shared a soft look full of affection.
“Yes, and until then, Stormhill is the best place for you all. We can’t thank you enough for this, Miss Kiappa.”
Nes returned the queen’s smile, not certain that it reached her eyes. Oh, how she’d miss the enormous library at Kirce. And oh, how she dreaded being a guest of Lord Kahoth. Ugh.
King Hethtar bobbed his head in agreement with his wife. “A toast!” he boomed.
“A toast!” The queen laughed, raising her glass.
“A toast?” Nesrina lifted her goblet, confused.
“To the brilliant Miss Nesrina Kiappa, who turned up to save our children from their own unruly tendencies.”
“To Miss Kiappa.”
Nesrina blushed heavily and joined them in a toast, to her.
When she’d nearly finished her wine, she was struck with the thought that she was lost. Should she leave, or wait to be excused? The latter was probably the proper course of action.
Not for the first time, Nes wished she’d asked Papa how to act in these sorts of situations, just in case.
If she’d framed it as a hypothetical, he’d probably have talked.
The familiar pang of loss burrowed into her chest, tightening her throat.
It used to be worse, but time lessened the stabbing agony to a moderately uncomfortable sense of sadness.
Still, she missed her papa every lened day.
“Do you think they need more guards?” the king asked his wife.
“I don’t, Ehmet. I think they’ll be fine with one per carriage and another assigned to the children. Best not to draw attention to the group.”
“Is the journey particularly dangerous?” Nes asked, having noticed the king seemed preoccupied with their safety.
Queen Hevva sputtered with laughter. “Not at all, Miss Kiappa. It’s quite safe. My dear husband here is a worrywart and would send an entire battalion along if I allowed it.”
Nesrina was relieved to hear that the road to Stormhill wouldn’t be paved with danger. Though, she wasn’t sure about the halls of the estate itself.
“I’m allowed to send one soldier of my choosing,” the king lamented, a charming pout on his face. “I’m sending Sarma, by the way,” he added for the queen’s benefit.
“Good choice. He’s a fine young man.”
A fine young man, indeed. Nesrina couldn’t help the heat rising to her cheeks at the thought of Rihan Sarma escorting her—well, escorting the prince and princess—to Stormhill.
Forget the stress of the dratted duke and travel days ahead, everything felt bearable knowing her golden-haired guard would be coming along.
“Oh, Miss Kiappa!” The queen startled. “While you’re at Stormhill, would you please keep an eye on my brother, too?”
Her Rihan-induced blush drained away, and her brow pleated in spite of her best efforts to remain neutral.
Queen Hevva continued, “He was looking far too thin for my liking on this past visit.”
The king grunted his agreement.
“I want you to ensure he’s eating, as often as you’re able to, of course. Kas . . .” She scrunched her brow. “He gets lost in his own head, regularly. And I’m entrusting you with this task. Reminding him should do the trick.”
“Five additional gold pieces per month,” the king added, “for aiding my beautiful queen in her endless quest to keep her baby brother fed.”
Queen Hevva laughed, while Nesrina balked at the absurdly large sum of money being offered.
Her salary was nine pieces per month, and with the Rashooli family it had been four.
She’d be a fool to decline, especially when that amount would allow Mama to retire as planned before Papa’s passing.
She sipped the last of her wine and mulled the offer over.
All she had to do was remind the lanky lord to eat a meal from time to time?
Permission to pester the infuriating man and a larger paycheck?
Nesrina smiled placidly at the king and queen. “I’ll do it.”
“Ah, fantastic!” The king moved to clap his hands, forgetting he was holding a tumbler of whiskey. One of his rings tinged loudly against the glass, startling them all.
The distinctly human error reminded her, these were people too, not just nobles.
Emboldened, she asked, “May I make one request? Would you be able to have payment sent directly to my mother for the extra task? I would send a portion on my own, but with the distance between here and Stormhill, and back to Napivol . . .”
“Certainly,” Queen Hevva agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s no trouble at all. And thank you for agreeing to assist me with my whims.”
With that, Nesrina was dismissed.
The road to Stormhill was long and dusty. On their third and final night of the journey, Rihan invited Nes for a walk around the town. She readily agreed to join him, in dire need of fresh, cool air, and a moment alone with the handsome man.
“I don’t think I’ve ever asked where you’re from,” she mused as they ambled back toward the inn.
“In the west, near Midlake. My cousin’s the earl, actually.”
“Of Midlake?” She cocked her head at him as he led them down the road.
Nodding, he flashed her a charming grin. “Yep. My dad was second born. He’s a knight, though. What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Napivol,” she offered. Did that make him a commoner or an aristocrat? “But my mama’s from Midlake.”
“That’s really interesting,” Rihan murmured as the back of his hand brushed hers.
Passing beneath a back gateway they found themselves by the quiet stables.
Inside the inn, however, was a raucous affair.
The ground floor burst with light and sound as boots stomped and a jaunty tune shook the walls.
When the lively song ended and the din of applause wafted from the open windows, Rihan stepped in front of her, offering a hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
The new song seemed a bit depressing and slow; she imagined the folks inside were taking the opportunity to catch their breath and maybe grab a fresh pint before the tempo kicked up again. Still, she accepted, allowing him to sweep her into a slightly plodding routine on the hard-packed earth.
Little clouds of dust kicked up from Nesrina’s slippers as he dragged her about, and a giggle escaped her. The song came to an end, and Rihan held her in position, one hand laced in hers and the other resting on the small of her back.
She tipped her face up, enjoying the way his eyes appeared dark with need, or perhaps because of the low light. She preferred to think it was the former. His hand on her back slid lower, coming to rest on the swell of her bottom as he pulled her closer. “You are so cute.”
“Oh,” she breathed, processing the sentiment. She abhorred adjectives that made her feel—
They finally kissed, his warm lips crashing into hers, cutting her off mid-thought.
Mouths already slightly ajar, his teeth clinked against hers, forcing them both to draw back as their bodies absorbed the uncomfortable shiver.
He leaned in again, this time with less force, and they made a second attempt.
His big lips overtook hers, kneading against her, and his tongue poked out, urging her to let him in.
She did, not entirely enjoying the sensation of their moist muscles shoving against one another.
But as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a warm embrace, she got over it, because it was exciting, after all, being kissed by a handsome guard.