Episode 119 You Are Maddening
You Are Maddening
“Coffee? You want me to sneak you coffee?” Rominy frowns.
“Just a little more? Please?” Elowyn looks at him with her big gray eyes, and he sighs.
“It will be cold by now. And the only thing worse than hot coffee is lukewarm coffee.” He shudders.
“I can warm it up.”
He stares down at her again. “With your fire magic? That is definitely not happening.”
Her brows wrinkle. “Right. I forgot.”
“Besides, we’re supposed to be listening to Tharios. Remember?”
She groans and presses her head back into the pillow. “I would tell you you’re no fun, but the heartbinding won’t let me.”
Rominy struggles not to smile at that, and Elowyn’s mouth twitches at the corner when she glances up at him.
“You know, you promised me anything I wanted,” she says. “And what I really want right now is coffee.”
He leans close, being careful not to touch or breathe on her ear. “Nice try, love.”
“You are maddening.”
“And you are the worst patient ever.”
“You sound like Tharios.”
Rominy straightens again. “Is that a compliment? I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You’re maddening,” she mutters, and he picks up her book of fables again.
“You said that already.”
“I’m not talking to you.” She gingerly rolls to her side, her back toward him.
“In that case, I agree.” He turns the page to reveal a beautiful illustration of an elf riding a dragon.
“You what?” She looks over her shoulder at him, and he meets her eyes, unable to hide the smile twitching at his lips.
“You said someone was maddening. There are only two people in this room, so if you’re not talking to me, you must be talking to yourself. They teach logic at the university, you know.”
He returns to her book, watching her from the corner of his eye as she thinks through his response.
In the end, she huffs and turns away again. With a sigh, he sets the book aside before lying with his chest against her back. He wraps his arm around her waist, and she doesn’t fuss.
“I adore you. I hope you know that,” he whispers.
“I’m fond of you as well. I would be even more fond of you if you brought me coffee, my love.”
“All right.”
She glances back at him again. “Really?”
“Yep. Just as soon as Tharios says I can.”
Her brows instantly lower.
“If you call me maddening again, I’ll throw you in the sea next time we’re in the heartlanding,” he warns.
With slow words, she says, “You. Are. Maddening.”
Their eyes meet for a moment, and there’s a challenge there as she gazes back at him. Then he looks away. “You know, I think my threat was poorly chosen. Let me try again. I’ll—”
Without warning, she pulls him into a kiss, and he almost chokes. What is she doing? They can’t do this here. Not in the real world.
Before he can pull away, the door opens. Stars above. There really is no privacy in this hotel.
“I’m not certain it’s safe to leave you two alone together.”
Rominy’s face burns as he sits up and turns toward Grandmera, who stands at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed, a dark look in her eyes.
Because that’s not mortifying. And terrifying. Mortifying and terrifying both.
“He started it,” Elowyn mutters.
“I started it? You’re the one who—”
“Looked at you and found you irresistible? You’re perfect and amazing, and I am so in love with you, and I am so tired of being ill.
I just want to do normal things like drink coffee and kiss my binding partner.
Especially with that scratchy beard of yours.
I’m still trying to decide if I like it or not. ”
Rominy glances at Grandmera before clearing his throat and looking back at Elowyn. “Maybe I shouldn’t have lain beside you like that.”
Then Elowyn’s smile reappears, and she sighs. “I am clearly the weakest of elves. Forgive me, my love. I’m in a mood.”
It’s probably best not to respond to that. At least not that last part.
“I love you, El.” That seems like a safe response.
“And I love you. Is that my book of fables?”
He reaches for it again. “I believe so. I asked Tharios for a book, and he gave me this. It would be more entertaining if I could read it, but the illustrations are nice.”
Elowyn stares at him for a moment before she bursts into laughter. “He must not have been thinking when he gave it to you. I’d offer to read it aloud, but my eyes are too tired.”
“How about I read it?” Grandmera offers as she holds out her hand, and Rominy gives the book to her. “That way, I can keep an eye on you.”
She narrows her eyes at them again, and Rominy resists a groan.
“Would you prefer Elvish, or shall I translate?” Grandmera asks as she lowers herself to the chair beside the bed.
“Perhaps if you read it slowly, I can try to follow?” Rominy suggests. “Maybe I’ll pick up some new words.”
Elowyn smiles up at him, and Grandmera nods as she opens the book to the first page and starts reading.
Cerian groans as Arisanna’s finger runs over his ear. He’s going to catch fire if she keeps doing that. How did they end up here, anyway, as he leans near her neck, drinking in the scent of her hair and pressing his lips to her sensitive flesh?
They really should head back downstairs. Rejoin the others.
Stop getting so distracted by each other.
He can’t bring himself to unwrap his vines from around her, though.
When a knock sounds, he pulls back, and she whimpers.
“Maybe we should come back later,” Tharios says loud enough for Cerian to hear through the door.
“It’s Tharios.” Cerian straightens and tugs his shirt straight, breathing out slowly and stuffing his fire magic down. Or trying.
“You sensed him?”
“I heard him. Here.” He pulls the shoulder of her gown into place and smooths her hair as she stares up at him and his vines recede.
“I think we got distracted.”
“Just a little. Your face is flushed, but I can’t do much about that. Are you ready?”
“No.” She fingers her pink cheeks and slides her eyes closed, whimpering again.
Cerian holds back a smile at her reaction to his touch. It still amazes him that he has that effect on her. “Should I ask him to return later?”
Then the sound of Arisanna’s father chuckling reaches Cerian’s ears, and he glances over his shoulder at the door.
“What?” Arisanna looks up at him. “What is it?”
“Your father. He’s there, too.”
Arisanna gasps. “He’s here?” She hurries past Cerian to the door, her heat clearly fading at the thought of her father managing those stairs.
She flings the door open, and her breath hitches when her eyes land on King Gerault standing at Tharios’s side.
Her father pulls her to his chest and wraps his arms around her. “Thank you, my sweet girl.”
She clings to him, and Cerian watches, his heart full of emotion.
“Tharios is determined to ensure I die of old age many years from now, and I am determined to do as he says.”
A smile sneaks up on Cerian at that, and he glances at Tharios. “Thank you.”
Tharios merely nods, and soon Arisanna lets go of her father. Her cheeks are still flushed, but hopefully, the others will attribute that to the emotion of this moment.
Viala is there, too, and Tharios quietly translates the Nunian words into Elvish for her.
King Gerault takes in the room as he steps through the doorway. “I see what you mean, Tharios. This is magnificent. You did this with your magic, Cerian?”
Before Cerian can respond, Arisanna nods. “He’s the strongest plant wielder in Lostariel.”
Tharios grins. “He is indeed.”
Cerian stares at the floor and wills his ears not to turn red. Whistling wind. They can stop talking about his magic now.
“And this would appeal to elves?” King Gerault asks. “Make them more likely to visit Feressa?”
“Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Tharios says. “Rumors of the power of Cerian’s plant magic are well known in much of Lostariel. If word got out that a hotel in Feressa had commissioned him to design a room with his plant magic...” Tharios shrugs.
That’s a horrifying thought.
“You know that’s not what happened,” Cerian hisses in Elvish.
“It’s close enough. You make beautiful things with your magic, Cerian. Don’t hide that from the world.”
King Gerault looks back and forth between them. “What am I missing?”
“It wasn’t on purpose, Your Majesty,” Cerian says, not meeting his eyes.
“Gerault. And it hardly matters how it came to be. It’s beautiful.” He turns back to Tharios. “Explain to me again how this will work so I can speak to the hotel owner before I leave tomorrow.”
Arisanna stiffens beside Cerian. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”
The king draws her close again. “I wish I could stay. But Nunia needs her king.”
She doesn’t argue. But then she never would. She understands duty and sacrifice better than anyone.
“We’ll visit as often as we can,” she says softly.
“I hear you’re planning on settling in Darlei.”
“We are, sir,” Cerian says. “Only a day’s journey from Levina.”
Then the king pulls him close, too. “How glad I am of that. I will miss you both. All of you.” He lets them go and turns to Tharios. “Let’s speak to the hotel manager now so I may enjoy one last evening with my family before I go.”
They take their leave, and soon it’s just Cerian and Arisanna again, and he draws her into his arms.
“I think I need to be with my family tonight,” she whispers. “Who knows when we’ll all be together again.”
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s check on Elowyn and Rominy.”
She reaches up to plant a kiss on his cheek, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders as they head to the door.