17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
S unlight fills the compact room when I wake. I nestle into my pillow, wanting to go back to sleep.
I’m so comfortable.
Maybe these beds are of a higher quality than I thought. My hands are parallel with my face, clutching fabric. Then I realize. It’s not a pillow I’m resting on.
It’s Viridian’s chest.
Instantly letting go of his shirt, I lurch upright into a sitting position. Viridian lays on his back, chest rising and falling with sleep. His arm still lingers around me, hand dangerously close to where my lower back was just a moment ago.
How long did I sleep in his arms?
I brush my hair off my face in some effort to make myself look presentable.
Viridian stirs, eyelids fluttering as he adjusts to the light.
“Morning,” he says, voice low from having just woken up.
“Morning,” I reply, lowering my hands.
He merely looks at me, not bothering to move his arm. Then, he smirks. “So much for keeping to our sides.”
I don’t have to see myself to know that my cheeks turn a deep red.
“It was probably your fault.” Humor fills my voice. I poke his shoulder.
“Is it now?” Viridian challenges, voice light with amusement.
“Yes,” I say, letting the grin rise to my cheeks.
“I beg to differ.” He sits up, leaning forward so that his face is inches away from mine. “It was my side you woke up on, was it not?”
“All part of your ruse.” My words slow. Heat trickles over my face.
“My ruse.”
“Yes.”
I swallow. Abruptly, I stand and back away from the bed.
“We should gather our things.”
“Yes.” He tilts his head and presses his lips together .
I approach the door and pull my cloak from the hook, wrapping it around myself. Viridian crosses the room and does the same, adjusting his hood so it covers more of his face.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Yes.” I nod.
Even though I only want to stay here with him, away from the castle, away from our designated roles, for just a bit longer.
T he ride back to High Keep is shorter than I thought it would be.
I expected to feel resistant upon our return. That I would feel the same as I did when I first arrived. Hesitant and unwilling to enter.
But I don’t.
Instead, I feel oddly relieved. As if I am returning to a place I’ve come to know.
There’s a pang in my chest. Have I truly been here that long?
We disembark, and Viridian returns Nightfoot to the stable. Following him inside, we remove our hoods.
Servants bow and greet us as we pass through the main corridor.
Viridian dips his head, acknowledging all of them with a polite smile. I offer a small wave .
Then, he takes my hand.
My eyes widen, and it takes nearly all of my effort not to stare at his hand clasped around mine. Butterflies swirl in my stomach, yet all I want is for them to be chained in iron.
I can feel the servants eyes on us as we pass and I know they see our hands together. I move to pull my hand away, but Viridian tightens his grip.
“Play along,” he whispers, his mouth by my ear.
Ah yes. The ruse of the happy couple. Our cover story for our little excursion in Keuron.
I frown at him. He turns his face from mine, beaming.
I do the same, plastering a smile on my face. Dread lines my stomach.
It isn’t as difficult to pretend as it should be. Viridian must be a better actor than I am.
“You there,” he beckons to the closest servant. “Find Lord Tarrantree and Lady Wynterliff. Tell them to meet us in the first-floor library.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” The servant bows.
Still holding my hand, Viridian and I move further down the corridor, past the staircase, and toward the first floor-library.
Without warning, he hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. But this time, there is no butter knife between us.
I slam into him, with only my palms to his chest to catch myself .
The intensity of his amber stare steals the breath from my lungs. He parts his lips, filling my head with unholy thoughts.
Thoughts of his mouth on my neck. His tongue on my collarbones.
My breasts.
Is this all part of the ruse?
If so, then he truly is far more convincing than I could ever be.
He smirks, eyes falling to my lips, and then back up to mine.
“Tell me, Little Fawn. Are your thoughts as impure as mine?”
“No,” I lie, though my voice is a shell of what it should be.
Viridian clicks his tongue, a dark haze coloring his expression. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you should.”
“Mmm, is that so? Why should I believe your words when your eyes are saying something else?”
“And what are my eyes saying?” I ask coyly.
He lowers his face to mine, until our mouths are merely inches apart. “That you crave my touch as badly as I crave yours.”
I suck in a breath.
“Is that true, Little Fawn? Do you want me to touch you?”
I can’t deny it. Not anymore.
“Yes.” Disgust courses through me. I shouldn’ t do this with him, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Why do I want him so desperately?
“Good.” He grins, and I hate myself for encouraging him.
I turn my face, but his hand on my cheek stops me. My eyes are drawn to his, and I can’t look away.
Molten amber pours from him and into me, melting my core.
Viridian presses his face to my neck and inhales deeply. “You smell divine.”
If it’s true that fae males can smell arousal, then there’s no way I can hide from him.
“If you want me to please you, then you need only say the word.” His words only confirm my suspicions.
“There could be others around,” I tell him. He seems to have forgotten that. Or maybe he wants them to see. To think we’re smitten with each other after our “romantic” time away.
“I don’t care.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s holding himself back.
Part of me wishes he wouldn’t. That he means every word he says.
He moves his leg in between mine and raises his knee to apply pressure to my sex.
I gasp.
Viridian groans in my ear. The sound sends an electric current trickling across my skin.
“Tell me how that feels, Little Fawn.”
“So good,” I breathe. I’m so aroused now that even the faintest touch to my erogenous zones will be enough to send pleasure flowing through my body.
“That was quick,” Viridian remarks, no doubt sensing it.
I blush. My body has never responded like this to a man. Not even Loren.
Oh gods.
Loren.
In all this time gallivanting around Keuron with his captor, I’ve forgotten all about him.
Viridian touches his lips to my neck. I let out a breath.
He drags his lips down to my shoulder, then back up again. I grab his arm and squeeze it, so I don’t make a noise.
“If only we were alone,” Viridian purrs. “Then you wouldn’t have to be so quiet.”
“Gods,” I grind out. Since when was he so seductive?
“The gods are not looking, Little Fawn. There is only me and my mercy.”
I bite my lip.
A cough behind us tells me that we have an audience. Footsteps scurry in the other direction.
My heart leaps into my throat.
“Myrdin and Lymseia will be waiting for us,” I say, my voice stiffening. “We should stop this.”
His hands loosen their grip, but don’t leave my body. “Yes,” he murmurs, seeming to remember himself.
I slip from his touch, starting down the corridor. Viridian’s steps quicken behind me, and he falls in line beside me, keeping his distance.
I peer at him from the corner of my eye. His eyes have narrowed and are fixed ahead. Tensing his arms, he keeps them stiff, rigid at his sides.
Something in him has shifted.
What changed?
I almost think to ask, but the words don’t form on my tongue.
My stomach sinks. Perhaps he’s merely dropping the act now that there are no servants around to watch us. Somehow, that thought makes me feel so much worse.
When we arrive, Myrdin and Lymseia are already waiting for us. Myrdin sits at the small desk, while Lymseia paces about the room.
“You’ve returned,” Lymseia says when she sees us.
“Yes.” Viridian nods. “Thank you for meeting us.”
“Of course, cousin.” Myrdin’s brows furrow. “Your faces tell me you weren’t as successful as you would have liked.”
“No,” Viridian says while glancing at me. “But we did learn something.”
“Do tell.” Lymseia puts her hands on her hips.
“The talk of the town is of our engagement ball,” I say. “And how it’s the first ball to be hosted by the crown in a century.”
“The people seem to think that something happened at the last ball.” Viridian’s voice slows. “Something that turned my father into a recluse. ”
“You mean…” Myrdin pauses. “Something that happened before your mother died?”
“Yes,” Viridian says.
“What do the people think happened at this ball to make the High King wary of the world?” Lymseia asks, crossing her arms.
“Nothing conclusive,” Viridian answers.
“Ah.” She leans her head back. “Very helpful.”
“It’s given us a starting point,” I say, my defenses rising. “We’re not finished.”
“Cryssa is right,” Viridian says. His support eases my rough exterior. “We must continue searching for the answers.”
“Have you given this some thought?” Lymseia asks slowly, as if she were treading with caution. “If your father truly wants these secrets to stay buried, and he finds out that we’ve been poking around his dirty laundry, we could be arrested for treason.”
“Or worse, hanged,” Myrdin adds darkly.
My stomach clenches at the thought.
“I have,” Viridian says, firm in his resolve. “I won’t let any more miners die. My father might choose to do nothing, but that doesn’t mean I will. Human families need the metals to survive. They are the backbone of our kingdom.” He turns to me, and his eyes instantly find mine. “Without them, we are nothing.”
I open my mouth slightly, lips curving into the hint of a smile. His words resonate, striking a chord within me .
Spoken by the future High King of all Inatia. Spoken like a true king, who cares for and protects all of his people. Not only those closest to him.
Viridian’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, before turning his face back to Myrdin and Lymseia. “I understand if you don’t want to be part of this.”
“If you’re doing this, then so are we.” Lymseia bows her head. “I would follow you into the fires of hell.”
“As would I.” Myrdin copies her motion.
Viridian places a hand on Myrdin’s shoulder, glancing between him and Lymseia. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Myrdin says. “For Inatia.”
“For Inatia,” Lymseia echoes.
“For Inatia.” Viridian’s words are solid, like the earth.
“For Inatia,” I say. For Father and Acantha. For every human family who has lost someone to the mining sickness or risks losing their livelihood if the earth is fully drained of metal.
Viridian looks at me and nods, setting his jaw.
“Well then,” Lymseia says, puffing her chest. “Where shall we begin?”