FIFTEEN
Angharad
The carriage ascended the crescent-shaped drive of the Falk estate as the evening sun gilded the horizon. Lights lined the drive and illuminated the face of the pale blue mansion. Hara’s breaths felt short. It was enormous; more like a small palace than a house. It was hard to believe this was only one of two grand residences that belonged to the Falk family. Hara could already see a cluster of guests arriving and ascending the wide steps.
When the carriage had arrived for her at the palace, Hara noticed it had the Falk family crest, a sword wrapped in ivy, emblazoned on the door. Clementine had helped her with her train, almost bouncing with excitement as Hara climbed the gilded steps.
“He sent his own carriage!”
her maid swooned, clasping her hands to her chest.
“His mother made me guest of honor, so I think it is safe to assume she was the one who sent the carriage.”
“Even better, his mother likes you!”
said Clementine, refusing to be dampened.
Now, as she stepped from the carriage holding the hand of the footman, Hara wondered how many of the guests would jump to the same conclusions as Clementine.
Hara took the steps slowly, her heart pounding. In the days leading to the ball, she had tried to practice how she would approach Corvus. According to Gideon, he was jovial, and he could almost appear a little simple. Hara found it difficult to reconcile this version of Corvus with the one that lived in her mind. She decided that the best strategy would be to appear just as harmless as he, a grateful and humble witch who was honored to be included.
When Hara entered the great double doors, the smells of cinnamon, flowers, and roasted meat met her nose. The hall was made entirely of yellow marble, and plush white blooms burst from containers every few paces. Millions of crystal facets winked and shimmered overhead, golden with candlelight.
Massive gilt frames hung heavy upon the walls, and the disdainful faces of Falk ancestors glowered down at her from both sides as though she were an intruder. The delicate click of her heels echoed over the marble, piercing through the rumble of voices that grew louder with every step.
At the entrance to the ballroom, a manservant spotted her and, before she could give her name, he announced.
“Guest of honor and Witch Recruiter, Hara of Mortimer.”
Several heads from the crowd snapped in her direction. She nodded her thanks at the manservant and entered the room. Immediately, another servant appeared to her left and offered her a tall flute of golden liquid. She took a peppery sip and sidled to the edge of the room, wishing to get her bearings before seeking out Gideon and commencing with their plan.
Every guest seemed to be dressed in varying shades of blue, contrasting beautifully with the golden hue of the ballroom. There was a long table laid out with all manner of rare delicacies: oysters swimming in sauce, small golden vegetables that had been painstakingly carved, succulent meats, lobster tails garnished with butter roses, and an entire stuffed peacock, its tail held aloft in a grand display.
Musicians played in a corner, and a small group danced in the center of the room. Glowing bubbles floated above them, drifting aimlessly as their lights shifted hue to the music. The deafening rumble of overlapping conversations filled every corner of the packed room. Some guests she recognized from the palace, but many faces were new.
All this for Gideon’s homecoming, she thought. As the only son of Commander Falk, he must have been cherished indeed.
“Hara!”
a voice called, and she turned to see Sarai making her way towards her, a glass of wine held aloft. The stiffness in her shoulders eased slightly.
Hara had gone to Sarai’s laboratory twice in the past week. She went in the depths of the night when no one else would notice her absent from her duties and worked alongside Melietta.
Melietta was cordial now, if not friendly. Maybe the fact that Hara was willing to help them in their efforts tipped the scales slightly in her favor. Melietta showed her the spellwork she had worked out for the magnetic solution, but the pages of formulas and symbols may as well have been written in a foreign language for all the sense Hara could make of them. It had been many years since she’d studied magical theory, and this was far more advanced than anything she’d seen before.
Though Hara’s academic magic was stunted, Melietta was surprisingly patient and loaned her some books to help translate the symbols and principles. It was difficult work, but she was pleased whenever a long-forgotten concept would lock into place.
This week, they had succeeded in halting the corrosion, but the gold now laid inert at the bottom of the flask as though it sat in ordinary water. She did not mind the late nights poring over calculations and practicing unfamiliar rune shapes. All she could think of was the look on the Widderstone children’s faces when they were reunited with their parents.
Sarai finally pushed her way to Hara’s side with a tall, exquisitely handsome man following in her wake. He was Sarai’s equal in beauty, each sharing the same high cheekbones and liquid dark eyes.
He bowed to Hara as Sarai said.
“This is my brother, Robert. Robert, this is Lady Hara.”
“A pleasure to finally meet you,”
said Lord Robert in a smooth, deep voice. The accompanying grin he flashed her made Hara’s stomach flutter.
“Sarai has told me so much about you. I feel I must exercise some restraint and make introductions properly.”
Hara smiled back, curious about what the Winthrope parents looked like to produce such siblings.
“Please share, what has she told you?”
Robert ticked off items on his fingers.
“You are a Seer, an herbalist, and you come from Norwen. And you saved Lord Gideon’s life, though that is common knowledge by now.”
“It feels rather odd to meet someone who knows more about me than I do them,”
said Hara.
“It’s a novel experience.”
“Seer problems,”
said Sarai, smiling over the rim of her glass. Sarai’s shoulders rose bare and elegant out of her gown of silver satin. The top half of her face was powdered white with tiny buttercups painted across her cheekbones.
“I did not think it was possible, but you look even more stunning in a ball gown,”
Hara said.
“The old biddy changed the theme of the ball at the last minute, and she even ordered a peacock. I thought gray was safe and neutral, but I stick out like a rotten tooth.”
She shook her head, then her expression cleared as she grasped Hara’s arm.
“Did you hear the news?”
At Hara’s puzzled look, she went on.
“The couple down in the mines—the man who was injured? The ones you seemed to know?”
“The Widderstones,”
said Hara, her gut clenching. What misfortune had befallen them now? Her heart twisted as she imagined his wound worsening, or another rock fall burying them both.
“An anonymous donor paid their ransom to the Steward. They were released just this morning. Apparently, the donor arranged for transport to Norwen and a small plot of land, all bought and paid for.”
“What?”
gasped Hara. The amount of wealth and influence it would take to do such a thing was staggering. Why were they chosen to be set free? It did not make sense.
“Who would do this?”
Sarai gave her a small half smile, tilting her chin down knowingly.
“Can you not guess?”
It couldn’t be, thought Hara. When had Gideon ever shown a charitable side? But as she had the thought, she felt that it was somewhat unfair. The man who had come to her cottage on the brink of death, prickly and not the least remorseful about his questionable past, wouldn’t give a brass mark about a war-torn family. But she had not seen that man in some time. If it was true that he had done this . . .
Something sweet and molten bloomed in her chest, causing a gentle ache in her throat. Her cheeks felt like glowing coals and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. This was not the time to lose control, with half the court watching. She took a shuddery breath and adjusted her posture. There would be time enough to examine the rapidly fluttering warmth in her chest later.
With effort, she concentrated on the conversation happening between Sarai and her brother. Apparently, they were discussing Lady Eleanora.
“The quickest way for you to put an end to her scheming is if you wed,”
said Lord Robert.
“Or at least give the impression that your star has not dimmed. Dance all night, show her that the Winthropes are immune to sabotage.”
“I hate dancing. And none of these fops interest me,”
said Sarai, taking a sip of her wine.
“Surely not all of us are fops, Sarai,”
said a deep voice, and Hara turned to see Gideon standing at her side. The warm fluttering in her chest awakened tenfold at the sight of him.
He wore a midnight-blue cape over one shoulder, the gilt cords taut across his chest. A white silk shirt opened down his chest to reveal a teardrop sapphire on a chain. Matching jewels dangled from his ears, catching the light with every movement. As he glanced down at her with a warm glint in his eyes, heat tickled along her spine.
“At least you’ve dyed your hair dark again. Lord Cheswyn’s is back to that horrid shade of chartreuse,”
said Sarai.
“You’ll have to thank Hara for that,”
said Gideon.
“She insisted.”
“Though it looks like someone did a better job than what my homemade walnut paste could do,”
said Hara, admiring his darkly elegant locks.
Gideon chuckled, and Hara felt his hand come to rest warmly on her lower back. Something pleasant snared her insides at his touch.
Lord Robert’s eyes flicked over Gideon’s close stance, and a knowing, smug smile lifted his mouth.
“What an attentive escort you are, Gideon,”
he said with cryptic amusement.
“Would you excuse us? I have some people who want to meet the woman who saved my life,”
said Gideon pointedly, and he led them away.
As they walked through the crowd, Gideon flashed his rakish smile and nodded at people, but he whispered to her.
“Corvus is over by the musicians. He is talking to Ambrosius Tenn, owner of one of the richest mines in Montag. Are you ready?”
“No,”
said Hara.
“But I think it’s a bit like jumping into an icy lake.”
His eyes flicked down to meet hers, then slowly roved over her gown.
“For what it’s worth, you look extraordinarily beautiful.”
He brushed a silky curl from her shoulder and leaned closer, close enough that she could smell the fresh, sharp fragrance coming off of his skin.
“You are extraordinarily beautiful.”
His praise made her sweat slightly beneath the layers of fabric. She stepped away from him.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t stand too close. I don’t want anyone to think . . .”
“My parents are ordering me to seduce you,”
said Gideon, reaching out to wrap his arm securely around her waist again.
“To them, it will look like I am following their orders, but you’ll know the truth. I want every man here to know that those gorgeous legs are mine.”
Hara blushed and gazed down at her legs barely peeking out from the deep-velvet overskirt. The impressive weight of the dress felt almost like armor. She was a glittering, untouchable version of herself, which was exactly how she wanted to appear to Corvus.
Hara swallowed and fussed with the edge of the overskirt. The man had haunted her dreams and served as the lightning rod to her anger since she was a child. He was the reason her life had been thrown away. He held so much power that it seemed an impossible task to dupe him and come out the victor.
Suddenly, it felt as though she could only draw breath into the tops of her lungs, and she could feel her heart thrumming in her throat.
Through her nerves, she felt Gideon’s warm finger under her chin, raising it.
“Look at me.”
All trace of his usual haughtiness was gone, and his eyes were clear and penetrating as he spoke.
“You are a great Seer. He is just a man.”
Hara nodded, trying to will the words to overpower her clenched stomach.
“Thank you,” she said.
“It looked as though you needed the reminder,”
he said, patting her arm where it intertwined with his.
They walked leisurely together, meandering through the crowd. People parted before them with many simpering smiles and whispers behind hands until finally, there was no one between them and the Emperitor.
Bartram Corvus turned to them with a grin, his white hair cropped close and his bald spot shining in the glowing light. He wore a small pair of spectacles, and as he studied Hara and Gideon, he dipped his chin to see them more clearly.
He towered over them both, thick about the shoulders and middle. With his formal attire of a satin sash, glittering medals, and shining black boots, he was an intimidating figure.
Until he spoke.
“Gideon my lad, the prince has returned!”
said Corvus, grabbing Gideon and pulling him into a crushing embrace with many claps on the shoulder. His eyes shone with pride and affection, and his cheeks were ruddy.
“I’ve heard tell of some of your escapades, but I expect to hear them all over a large brandy. Can’t ride a horse anymore, so I must get my adventure secondhand.”
He and Ambrosius chortled together, and then Corvus turned to Hara.
“And this must be the lovely young lady I have heard so much about.”
Hara smiled warmly as Gideon brought her forward and said.
“I’d like to present our guest of honor, Hara of Mortimer.”
“I’m so pleased to be here. I’ve never been to such a grand party,”
said Hara. Let him think her a bumpkin.
Corvus bowed to her, and Hara noticed that he was not wearing gloves. Thank heaven for that.
“Welcome most warmly to Perule, my dear. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. I was never blessed with a son, so Gideon is like my own. If we had lost him, the entire country would mourn.”
“I had no idea I was so well-loved,”
said Gideon wryly.
“You’re as loved as I am, which isn’t saying much!”
Corvus boomed with laughter. He gestured to the overflowing vases of flowers and the general splendor of the room.
“Eleanora does know how to butter the bacon, doesn’t she? No half measures. And why not? Falk’s investment is paying off, isn’t it, Ambrosius?”
“Most definitely,”
said Ambrosius, a stoop-shouldered old man with a bald spot that rivaled Corvus’.
“We’ve had excellent output from the formerly abandoned east sector. Once we cleared out the gas, we found a seam of cobalt that should pay out for years.”
Hara’s hand gripped her glass. How many prisoners were sacrificed before they determined that the gas had been cleared? How many more were there now, breathing air thick with noxious dust?
Disgust rose in her throat, but suddenly Hara thought of the witch that had been imprisoned for her magic seeds. She had refused to work with the farmers and that had left her naked and wretched in the hold beneath the Recruiter offices. If Hara spoke against the richest mine owner in Perule, that could be her fate. Corvus seemed warm and jovial now, but she knew the niceties were only surface level. Any ill words towards his business partners would surely come with consequences.
She held her tongue and smiled pleasantly at Ambrosius as she took a sip of her drink.
A new song began to play, a slow waltz, and Gideon turned to Hara as planned.
“I must go and find my mother—she might need my help welcoming the ambassadors from the Mycan court.”
With a gentle squeeze of her hand he left them, and Hara was alone with Corvus and Ambrosius.
“Oh, this is my favorite dance,”
she said, turning to gaze longingly at the couples turning a few paces away.
“Gideon promised me a dance tonight, but who knows how long he’ll be gone. What awful timing.”
As Gideon said he would, Corvus placed his glass of mead on the tray of a passing servant and held out his arm to her.
“I cannot have you being a wallflower, my dear. Not when you are the guest of honor.”
Hara smiled brightly at him, set aside her glass as well, and took his arm. He led her to the group of dancers, and they seamlessly joined the swirling couples. Corvus’ meaty hand clasped hers, and Hara tried to memorize every aspect of his rough palm, his piney scent, and the sound of his slightly wheezing breaths.
It was almost too tempting to let the influence overtake her senses now, but she had to keep her wits about her. She had the Empirator of Montag in her grasp, and she would not let him go for the entire length of the slow song Gideon had selected.
Before even a minute had passed, however, a slim gloved hand tapped Corvus’ shoulder.
“May I?”
Commander Falk asked, his slight form and austere face such a contrast to Corvus’ ruddy boisterousness. Hara’s stomach sank.
“Now where did he come from? This one is a snake, Lady Hara. He’ll sneak up on you when you least expect it!”
boomed Corvus with a grin, grabbing Commander Falk by the shoulders.
“I’m only thinking of the lady’s reputation, Corvus. She can’t be seen with rabble like you,”
said Commander Falk with a poke to Corvus’ chest. Hara watched this exchange of insults with bemusement.
Corvus bowed to Hara and took up another glass from a passing servant as he strolled into the crowd and was immediately swarmed with courtiers. Hara felt Commander Falk’s hand slide around her waist as he began to lead her through the dance, and she brought her attention to him.
“I’m surprised Gideon did not wish to have the first dance with you,”
said Commander Falk.
“He was off to find Lady Falk and help her greet guests,”
Hara said, smiling weakly.
“Was he? I would think, as infatuated as he is with you, that he would wish to stay by your side all night.”
Hara did not know what to say to this, so she thought it best to smile and say nothing.
“What a lovely gown. Seers wore this color in the old court, as I recall.”
His eyes flicked to her bare throat.
“But no jewelry? I thought Eleanora had taken you to buy some.”
More smiles, more playacting. Hara’s face was beginning to ache.
“Oh, no. I could not accept such generosity after she paid for my dress. And besides, I cannot abide the touch of most jewelry.”
“Such a pity. Gold would look so well on you,”
he said, his lopsided mouth quirking in a grin that made Hara want to run. He knew she had used silverware, and now had caught her in a lie.
Before she could speak, Gideon’s voice reached her like a warm beam of sun on a chill day.
“May I cut in?”
“Of course, my son. Enjoy her,”
said Commander Falk, offering Hara’s hand to Gideon. She tried not to be too hasty as she took Gideon’s hand and began to dance with him.
“I saw the plan had gone awry and I came over here as quickly as I could. You got close to Corvus?”
said Gideon in a low voice.
“Yes, I danced with him for at least a minute. That should be enough for me to get clear visions.”
“Good,”
said Gideon, holding her closer.
“I hope my father didn’t do anything too upsetting.”
“He mentioned jewelry, and I had to lie to him. He knows, Gideon.”
“No, he doesn’t,”
said Gideon firmly.
“Until he’s heard it from my lips or seen it with his own eyes, he knows nothing.”
“What would he do?”
Hara whispered, and Gideon pulled back to look at her.
“He will not do anything because he does not know. Do not think on it.”
He said, pulling her close again.
“Now, let me treat you like my guest of honor,”
The song ended and a more spirited one started up. They stepped with the other dancers, Hara’s skirt swirling across the floor. Gideon smelled divine, his cologne mixing with his clean skin, warm with exertion. She held onto his shoulders as he swept her boldly through the dance, his hand tight around her waist and his cheek brushing against hers.
“Tell me, is Lord Robert expecting a dance with you this evening?”
murmured Gideon. Hara was surprised by the question, but Gideon took her hesitation as something else. He hurried on before she could answer.
“I would say it’s all right, but it’s not. It makes me seethe. I don’t intend to give you up for the rest of the night, or any night for that matter.”
She knew he was a practiced courtier who probably said such things to countless women, and so she shouldn’t delight in his words the way that she did. But the idea of Gideon being jealous tickled her.
“He’s very handsome,”
she murmured back.
“And he’s your friend. Maybe I’m beginning to understand your attraction to the forbidden.”
“Gods, Hara. Don’t say that,”
he said, and Hara felt something firm pressing against the boning of her bodice. Anticipation curled in her belly as wet heat gathered between her thighs. She pressed back against him, arching into his hardness.
“Damn,”
he breathed, the curse warm against her neck. Then he brought his lips to her ear and whispered.
“I want to bend you over and lick you senseless.”
Hara’s heart thudded, and she wondered if he could feel it through all the layers of her gown. This was not flirtatious courtier talk. The growing heat was beginning to ache with emptiness, and Hara couldn’t stop herself imagining him kneeling behind her and giving her his tongue.
She became overwhelmingly aware of the warm silk covering his arm, and the way his legs continuously slipped between hers as they turned in the dance. She closed her eyes and moved closer so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. His sapphire rested against her flushed skin, cool and smooth.
She became lost in the rhythm of their steps and the slight rasp of his cheek. His arousal was trapped between their melded hips, and it was so easy to imagine his breaths above her, the rhythm inside of her, as they took what they had been denying themselves for months.
When the dance ended, his chest rose and fell in rapid pants, his eyes half-lidded. Hara knew that her own lips were parted as she fought to control her breathing. A loud voice broke their haze.
“Marvelous, simply marvelous!”
said Lady Falk, coming up alongside them and clapping her hands daintily.
“What a beautiful pair you make.”
Hara stepped away from Gideon, the heat lingering under her skin.
“You’ll forgive me for stealing you away, Hara dear. Everyone wants to meet the star of the evening. Gideon, go make yourself useful and translate for those Mycan lords—their accents are rather thick after a few glasses of mead.”
Eleanora linked arms with Hara and led her to a group of people. Hara spent the next hour in smalltalk with relations of the Falk family, telling the same story of how she had saved Gideon over and over. She did not realize it was possible to know this many people, but Eleanora seemed to know everyone.
“I’ve never seen Gideon look so at ease since he’s come back. Wasn’t I saying so just yesterday, Silveta? He looks positively glowing with health,”
said an old aunt of Gideon’s. She had iron-gray curls and wore a fussy lace dress. Her twin sister by her side nodded sharply, observing Hara through small spectacles, much like those Corvus wore. Silveta reached out and grasped Hara’s arm.
“So good to see you setting an example for your kind,”
said the older woman sternly.
“You have found a use for yourself at court, and you seem sweet as a flower. One would hardly know you were one of them.”
“Indeed so! A fine example. And I hope you will note that Eleanora made you guest of honor without hesitation—a decision supported by all of our circle. They can say what they like about us in the south, but we are as open-minded as they come,”
said the old aunt in fussy lace.
Hara pasted a bland smile onto her face as she listened to their chatter. To hear them talk, one would think they had expected her to enter the ballroom draped in rags and muttering curses.
The evening wore on, and Hara fought back a yawn. She glimpsed Gideon every now and again, but he was busy playing the role of host. He and Robert moved through the crowd like royalty, and she could not fail to notice that women followed them wherever they went, with many coy smiles and carrying laughter echoing over the din of the party.
“Looking for someone?”
drawled a voice next to her, and Hara turned to see a young man Eleanora had introduced her to earlier. She thought he might be a cousin. His hair stuck to his sweaty brow, and he held an empty glass in his hand.
“Oh, I was looking for the Empirator,”
she said.
“I danced with him earlier and I haven’t seen him since.”
“He’s probably gone to bed early, the old sot,”
said the young man. He was clearly drunk.
“Always leaves before the fun begins.”
Hara took a step back, but the man—Farrington, she suddenly remembered—reached for her hand.
“Have a go with me. Let’s dance,”
he said, dropping his glass. It shattered at their feet.
“Doesn’t bother me that you’re a witch—never had one of your kind before.”
“Leave me alone,”
said Hara in a raised voice, but he held her hand tightly.
“What, only Gideon’s allowed to touch you?”
he slurred, grinning lasciviously.
“I’ll be gentle.”
Hara’s hand was torn from his grasp and the next moment Farrington was on the ground. He howled in pain as he landed on the broken glass, and Hara looked up to see Gideon there, his fist raised. A look of icy fury shone from his face as he stared in disgust at the man curled on the floor.
“She said no. How dare you touch her.”
A shocked silence had fallen over the ballroom, and all she could see was the throng of gawking faces, the excited eyes of Lady Falk darting between them, and Gideon. His fist trembled slightly as he lowered it, and his jaw clenched in disgust. His perfectly coiffed hair had become a dark mess. Then his cold eyes met hers, and they softened.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,”
she murmured, crouching beside Farrington and inspecting his cuts.
“But he needs help.”
Spots of blood littered the marble floor, and someone called for a physician. Hara thought about performing her pain relieving spell on him, but she decided to let him hurt. She did not fancy the idea of whispers growing around her as the court watched her perform magic. He wasn’t worth it.
Two men in medic robes came to crouch beside her, unpacking their kits. She saw Gideon’s hand held before her, and she took it to pull herself up.
“I’ll escort Lady Hara to her rooms,”
said Eleanora, and she stepped forward to take Hara’s arm. Eleanora walked purposefully from the ballroom, holding onto Hara as though she were a protective mother hen guarding her chick.
Hara looked over her shoulder, and found Gideon’s eyes among the sea of faces.
How could pale blue look so warm?
Eleanora had planned ahead with beds made up for guests who may have overindulged, and she had prepared a suite especially for Hara to stay after the ball.
She led her up the sweeping staircase to some handsome rooms that were paneled in dark wood, and she drew up a bath while Hara stepped out of her gown.
A merry fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth.
“What a way to end the evening,”
Eleanora tsked, removing her long silk glove to test the water.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, my dear. You must not judge us all by his example. He wasn’t even a Falk, after all; he was only a Sneppet. Ill-bred rogues, the lot of them.”
She helped Hara into her bath and said.
“There. You just soak and wash. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
It was almost like having a mother, Hara thought, and the back of her throat began to ache. As Eleanora turned to leave, Hara found her voice.
“Thank you for being so kind.”
Eleanora paused and smiled gently.
“Thank Gideon. He did what you or I could not. Well, at least I couldn’t. You might.”
Hara gave a soft smile.
Somehow, she did not think the party would have carried on if Hara had been the one who punched an aristocrat’s son.
Lady Falk left the bathing chamber, and Hara heard the outer door click shut.
Hara scrubbed the makeup from her face and washed her hair, trying to calm her nerves.
She felt restless and hot, unable to stop thinking about the way Gideon looked as he lowered his fist, his eyes cruel and his shoulders tense.
She would never get used to how easy it was to fill a tub, she thought as she filled it again with fresh water, and sank back to lean her head against the lip.
Her hand wandered over her stomach and lower down, seeking some relief.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the clean scent of Gideon’s skin and his erection straining against her as they danced.
Sparkles of desire raced across her skin at the memory of his tousled dark hair, the merciless expression on his beautiful features as he stood above Farrington.
He was so kind and playful with her that she almost forgot the brutal nature that lurked within him.
She could feel herself growing slick and swollen under the water, and the tickling, burning pleasure was making her breaths shallow.
Then she heard the click of the outer door opening again, and the unmistakable sound of a lock sliding home.
Hara froze, wondering if a servant had entered her room, but then she knew.
Slow footsteps crossed the carpet, and Gideon’s form filled the door to the bathing chamber.
His eyes flicked to her hand under the water as she moved it away from her thighs and tucked it behind her.
“Are you all right?”
he murmured. This time when he asked, his voice was calm. It touched her that he sought to confirm her well-being away from the prying eyes of the court.
“Yes,”
she replied.
“But you know how I feel about you fighting.”
A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He brought his hand up to his shoulder and jerked on the cord that fastened his cape. It fell to the ground heavily, and he stepped forward.
“I told you I wanted to lick you senseless,”
he said, undoing the buttons of his shirt and exposing the shadows of his ridged stomach. He tugged the ends of the shirt free as he approached, letting them fall open.
The sapphire swayed and glinted as he planted his hands on either side of the tub and leaned over her.
“I plan to honor that.”
Hara rose from her bath and Gideon stepped back, his eyes raking over her shining skin. They rested on her breasts for a moment before drifting down over the lines of her waist and hips and stopping at her sex.
A hot, feral look was undoing the courtly composure he usually maintained. Hara let him look, watching the way the firelight sent flickers of warmth and darkness over his exposed chest.
Her skin sang with awareness, and as he leaned closer she felt the heady rush of surrender.
Gideon grasped the back of her thighs, and then he was hoisting her up out of the bath. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he turned and began walking them to the bed.
Their lips crashed together as he did, devouring and raw, yielding and surging until Hara let out a whimper. Sharp little nips caught at her unexpectedly amidst the softness and heat of his mouth.
They jostled against a chest of drawers, and Hara let out a breathless laugh before he set her onto it, knocking a vase of white flowers onto the carpet.
While his mouth returned to hers, he cupped her breasts, rolling them under his palms and brushing her nipples with his thumbs.
Flits of delight raced from his stroking fingers to her cunt, and Hara placed her hands over his.
Their tongues slid against each other with each devouring kiss, until Gideon broke away to travel down her neck.
The light flits of pleasure transformed into a burning tether straight to her sex when he fastened his mouth over a nipple. He sucked her peaked flesh, and each flick of his tongue tugged on the tether.
Gideon grasped her thighs again, hauling her up to place her on the bed while Hara gripped the front of his undone shirt and pulled him on top of her. Every part of him was hard and warm.
“All I could think about during those endless hours, through the dull conversations with merchants and ambassadors, was the way you came on me this morning,”
he whispered, grazing her nipple with his teeth.
“I was hard all evening. I kept needing to adjust myself not to show it.”
He sat up on his knees and let his shirt fall from his shoulders, tossing it to the side.
There was nothing extra about him, only enough spare corded muscle to lend a graceful masculinity to his form.
He leaned over her and made a hot trail between her breasts with his tongue.
Hara gripped his hair as his mouth made a rough, wet journey to the underside of her breast.
He found her nipple again, and a sound escaped his chest as he clasped it into his mouth, laving and nipping until Hara felt her wetness running down onto the bed.
Seeking some relief, she moved her hips to press herself onto the stiff erection straining his trousers.
He stopped abruptly and looked up to her with raw hunger.
“I can feel you,”
he said.
“You’re soaking through, onto me.”
Hara stopped writhing and flushed in embarrassment, but he smoothed a thumb over her hot cheek.
“I love it, Hara. I love how eager you are for this.”
With a deft motion, he undid the fastening of his trousers and slid them down his hips. He began to rub his burning hot erection onto her, closing his eyes as he was coated in her arousal. When he stopped, Hara let out a small moan of frustration.
“So wet,”
he murmured.
“Lay on your stomach. I want to taste you,”
Hara turned over, her breaths coming quickly. He bent her legs and spread her open, pulling her hips slightly upwards. Then he leaned down and swiped his tongue along her wetness.
“Oh!”
Hara breathed, shocked at the warmth. The way he had her spread made her feel completely exposed as he began to slide his tongue across her most sensitive places. Lovers had done this with her before, but softly, briefly.
Gideon licked at her as though he wanted to eat her alive.
She shivered as he suckled her clitoris, stroking over the burning peak with the roughness of his tongue as he did.
She could already feel herself straining with the beginning of a climax when he moved higher, kissing and caressing her cleft as he would her mouth.
He stroked every fold and parting, leaving no crease unexplored by his tongue.
It felt so intimate that she whimpered, and she felt her inner thighs growing wet from him.
His breaths were hot and rapid against her flesh, and all at once Hara felt herself rising, cresting, and shattering as she came on his tongue.
As she did, he slipped it as deep as he could go, letting out a hungry groan of pleasure.
“The taste of you.
I love it,”
he said between kisses to her inner thighs. His tongue began to flutter over her in gentle caresses, and Hara gripped the sheets.
Gideon waited until she began to shudder with release again, and then he landed wet kisses on the round firmness of her backside, sucking her flesh and squeezing her thighs, spreading them wider.
“Please, Gideon,”
she whispered, her orgasm cut short.
He crawled up her body, landing soft kisses on her back and shoulders.
She would have been content if he mounted her from behind, but he gently turned her so that she was looking up at him.
His cock had been stiff before, but now it burned and pulsed against her hip.
“Do you know the first time I thought about doing that?”
he said, his face half in shadow.
Hara shook her head.
“That first night we washed the dishes together. You had gone out to see that man who chopped your wood, and I didn’t like it.”
“You were jealous?”
Hara said, secretly pleased.
“I couldn’t stop imagining if it was me in your bed instead. I’ve thought about opening your legs every day since then.”
He kissed her deeply, and Hara could taste herself on his lips. She felt as though she had been conquered, but somehow, she liked the feeling.
If he was being honest, she may as well confess, too.
“The first time I wanted you was after I dyed your hair. You looked so handsome, I wanted to climb into your lap and ride you.”
“Mmm,”
he said, nuzzling into her neck.
“That was when we agreed it would be a bad idea to sleep with each other.”
“A very bad idea—”
His mouth smothered her words before she was finished, and he spread her legs, driving forward with a subtle movement of his hips.
Hara let out a gasp as he breached her, the empty neediness replaced with a different sort of ache as her body adjusted to him.
He swore as he felt her, and Hara clutched at his shoulders, her legs reflexively lifting around his waist.
He stretched her so deliciously that she couldn’t help the keening sounds that escaped her.
Like blowing on sleeping coals, her stalled climax rekindled, and with each movement, she felt the burn of pleasure build.
She locked her ankles together and pulled him deeper, and Gideon moaned as he sank fully inside.
“You take it so well,”
he rasped.
“Fuck, Hara.”
He moved his hips slowly, watching her face as he did, and Hara covered her mouth to muffle the cry that escaped her. Gideon grabbed her wrist away from her mouth and pinned it to the bed in a strong grip.
“This is my house, and the walls are thick. I want to hear you.”
He began a pounding rhythm.
It was rough and graceless, need straining from him in every muscle.
She could feel the weeks of denial in his movements, every suppressed desire, every shortened glance or tense gesture.
They were scattered, forgotten, as he gave to her what he had wanted all along.
Every curl of his hips pulled gasping little cries from her throat.
Hara closed her eyes and moved her hands to hold her knees wide apart.
He brought his mouth to her again, biting her lower lip almost to the point of pain.
He entered her to the base, barely pulling back with each furious thrust as if he could not bear to pull away from her any further.
Soon the repeated pressure made her forget everything but the release simmering close to the surface.
She was drowning in it, paralyzed, and then she felt herself clenching as white-hot sparks clouded her vision and she cried out his name.
Gideon withdrew, and before she could do or say anything, his mouth was between her legs again.
A new jolt of sweetness darted up through her, her sensitive flesh not yet recovered from her peak.
He licked deeply, making warm groans of satisfaction as he sucked and lapped at her.
Then he drew away, but he was not looking at her face.
He stared at her swollen sex, his own lips shining with her.
“You’re so gorgeous,”
he said, running his thumbs down her inner thighs and using them to spread her slightly.
“Gods, Hara. I’m afraid I’m possessed.”
Then he lowered his head and began to suckle her more gently, teasing her clitoris with feathery brushes and suckling caresses.
The sharp, fluttering sweetness of his tongue was such a contrast to his deep pulsing thrusts.
She was ready to beg for more pressure when he coated his fingertips with her wetness.
Hara let out a trembling sigh when he slid them in and began rubbing them firmly along her upper wall.
As she began to arch and strain, whimpering, his mouth became more eager.
With his other hand, he reached down and began to stroke himself as he licked her, as though he couldn’t resist.
She clenched her fingers into his hair, holding him to her, feeling that her world would shatter if he stopped.
Then with a groan she reached it, the satiny pulses of her release making her tremble and pant.
Gideon made a deep grunt as he reached his own climax, the sharpness of his teeth sinking into her inner thigh as the surges lessened.
He had given her no rest between her peaks, and she felt warm and swollen and well-used.
With a groan, he crawled up the bed and collapsed next to her, closing his eyes.
They listened to the softness of their breaths, and Hara concentrated on her slowing heartbeat.
She clenched her muscles around nothing, feeling deliciously sore and needy, primed to come again.
Even his panting breaths next to her aroused her, but the weight of the day was descending, pulling at her eyelids.
Hara curled against his side and rested her ear against his chest, comforted by the rapid beats of his heart.