28 #2
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. The inn is built in the style of a cottage, but with the scope of a palace, several stories high, with countless balconies and a series of dormer windows along the roof.
It’s surrounded by a garden of flowering trees and features three shimmering pools, perfect for a relaxing swim.
Throughout the garden stand translucent pillars of crystal, each one containing a selection of unicorn hairs, glowing and twisting within. At night, they must look stunning.
“Those pillars remind me of the décor inside the Lyre & Vice,” I say.
“This place is owned by the same family, but it caters to a different clientele,” Vawn replies.
The inn boasts a west-facing porch with cushioned swings. Severin halts there, and we dismount. At first I think the two men on either side of the front door are simply attendants, but then I spot their glyphs and their weapons. This place has security, which relieves my mind a bit.
Both of the men bow to Vawn. “Your Majesty.”
“I trust arrangements have been made as I requested?” Vawn asks.
“Yes, Sire.”
“Please explain all the security protocols to my lady here. She likes to know every detail.”
I cast him a grateful glance, and he grins down at me, pleased with himself.
The guards take their time explaining all the security features of the inn and the precautions they’ve taken for our stay here, after which Vawn slips them each a few coins and says, “Thank you for your service. Have a drink on me.”
“When you’re off duty,” I suggest.
“Of course, ma’am,” reply the guards.
“I’m sure they could still do their jobs with one drink in their bellies,” Vawn murmurs to me as we enter the inn.
“Maybe, but I’d rather not take the chance.” My jaw drops as we move through the entrance and deliver our bags to the servants who stand ready to receive them. “By the fates, Vawn—it’s beautiful.”
Stained-glass windows catch the incoming light of the sunset, flecking the shiny golden wood of the floor with shards of color. The vast common room boasts comfortable furniture, multiple fireplaces, and brilliant paintings.
“This doesn’t seem like your sort of place,” I say.
“I like many sorts of places,” Vawn replies. “My favorite is always the one where you are.”
“Saccharinely adorable,” mutters Severin from behind us. “I suppose it’s time for me to be stuffed in my case?”
“Actually, they have special berths for magic carpets.” Vawn smiles at him.
“Silk or velvet-lined—take your pick. There are lights in the berths, too—tiny glass globes filled with the hair from unicorn fetlocks. They provide illumination and they recharge your energy more quickly. If you need cleaning or brushing, or if you want your tassels combed or your handles re-plaited, they provide all those services, too. Just ask for whatever you need. It’s on me. ”
Severin’s glow increases noticeably. I’ve never seen him brighten like that, and it’s a thrill to know that he’s pleased.
“Enjoy yourselves, humans,” he tells us. “Take your time. I’ll be quite comfortable.”
He flutters away in the company of an attendant, while Vawn leads me through the common room.
We’re briefly greeted by the inn’s hostess, who guides us to something called an elevator.
It has a set of gears and weights that enable people to rise from floor to floor without using stairs.
I’ve never been in one before, and it feels like magic.
The elevator takes us to the top floor of the inn. “There are only two suites up here,” the hostess says. “One of them is yours, and the other is empty. You have complete privacy. The food you ordered will be delivered soon, Your Majesty, and then we will leave you undisturbed, as requested.”
She opens the door to the suite and ushers us inside.
The main room has a sunken area with a bench running around it, replete with cushions and soft fringed blankets. In the center of that space is a table of thick stained glass, purple and blue. Upon it sits a bouquet of blood-ivy in an ebony vase.
I know Vawn requested that bouquet. It’s a subtle message that even our most terrifying days were special to him. And the marble tray of dice near it confirms what I suspected.
This is the night he promised me—a night of games, sex, and one all-important question.
My heartbeat trips over itself, and I clasp my hands to my chest, but I don’t speak yet. I want to take everything in.
West-facing windows fill the entire wall beyond the sunken seating area.
Each window features clear glass except for one central pane set with the stained-glass crown of Belavrin.
Curtains of blood-red and royal purple cluster at the corners of the room, cloaking part of the walls and giving way to tall paintings of the Red Mountains, the river that runs through Kyr, and the Lyre & Vice.
The room is luxurious without being ostentatious. Above all, it exudes comfort, beauty, and safety. I can relax here. Except… the matter of the question burns in my mind, stirring my heart into a frenzy of expectation.
The hostess retreats from the room with a quiet smile, closing the doors and leaving us alone.
“I don’t know what to say, Vawn,” I whisper. “It’s beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” he says. “And when I say beautiful, I don’t mean just your shape, or your face, or any of that.
I mean your strength, your sense of duty, your humor, your loyalty.
I’m talking about your tenacious mind, your quick instincts, your passionate nature.
The way you cared when it felt like no one else did.
The way you pulled something out of me that I didn’t even know was there.
” He touches his chest with a soft laugh, as if he still doesn’t quite understand it.
“I’m going to ask you the question now, love, because I know you’re expecting it, and you won’t be able to enjoy yourself until it’s settled.
Please know, darling, that you are free to respond however you wish.
If you would rather remain as we are, I will accept it.
I simply want you in my life. I will take what I can get. ”
He sinks to his knees on the soft crimson carpet and takes an ebony box from his pocket. When he opens it, a large ruby flashes in the golden sunlight streaming through the windows.
The ring is of dark metal, glyph-graven to match the shield symbol I always carry on my right index finger. In Belavrin, a marriage ring belongs on the dominant hand, on the first finger, as a symbol of how the pair will value each other above all else.
Vawn looks up at me from his knees, the pink strands of his hair falling back from his handsome face. Sincerity and devotion glow in his eyes. “Syth, will you have me?”
I draw in a shaking breath. “Let’s be very clear about what you’re asking.”
“You’d be my queen, sweetheart. Still my bodyguard, if you like, because I’m rather fond of us being together constantly, and I know how much you enjoy protecting my pathetic ass…
but you’d have the royal title as well.” He grins up at me, but the grin disappears when I don’t answer right away.
A flicker of tortured doubt enters his eyes.
I can’t bear to make him wait any longer, so I lean in and kiss him eagerly. “Yes.” Another kiss. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Thank the fates. Let me put this on you.”
I let him slide the ring onto my finger. “If you were planning to ask me this, why did you react in that odd way to the announcement of Inaya and Jillia’s wedding?”
“Because I wanted us to get married in the Chapel of the Fates.”
“Silly king. We still can.”
“I know, but I thought it might feel less special if you attend another wedding there first.”
“If anything, I’ll be more excited for our own wedding.” I freeze for a moment, looking down at my ring. “Our wedding, Vawn.”
“Bodyguard to queen.” He smirks. “Not a bad career trajectory.”
“Unintentional, not calculated.” I poke his chest, then wrap my hand lightly around his throat. “You ensnared me against my will, you arrogant bastard.”
“Guilty.” He’s still smiling, but a faint shadow crosses his face, and he clears his throat nervously.
“There is one other thing we should discuss. As the last of my line, I will be expected to… well, there’s the matter of…
certain duties that may eventually become necessary, that would require… um…”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I interrupt. “Yes, I will have babies with you. Gladly. But let’s wait a bit, shall we? Let everything settle first.”
“Yes.” He gets to his feet, exhaling as if a huge weight has left his chest. “Although hearing you say that you want my babies… it’s doing something to me here.
” He touches his heart. “No, not there…” He takes my hand and slides it down his body, all the way to the laces of his pants, beneath which there’s a hard bulge. “Here.”
“Imagine that.” I stroke the area pensively. “Is this a risk to your health, my lord king? Because you know I’m charged with protecting you against bodily harm.”
“I do believe that neglecting it could lead to some dire consequences.”
“How dreadful. Lift your shirt, Majesty.”
He draws the shirt up, exposing his stomach.
I run my palm over the hills of his abdominal muscles, and then, yielding to impulse, I kneel, and I trace each of those lovely muscles with my tongue.
Vawn’s stomach sucks in with his eager breath, and his abs harden still more as he tenses with pleasure.
Someone knocks on the door, and a muffled voice says, “Your Majesty? Your food is here.”
I go to the door, drawing a knife and keeping it behind my back, out of habit and an abundance of caution. But I don’t need to worry. In this place, we’re the safest we’ve ever been.
The attendant rolls in a golden cart laden with bottles of wine and covered dishes of food, then departs quickly after Vawn gives him a few coins.
Vawn locks the door, and then he leaps for me.