Chapter 9
Attalus woke from one of the most pleasant sleeps of his life with a smile on his face. Not even his sore hip or cricked neck could ruin the pleasure of waking to a warm, soft mate in his arms.
Lids flickering open, Attalus beheld how she’d tucked herself tightly to him in her sleep. Starlit head under his chin and legs tangled with his, Leita had indeed made herself comfortable.
His throat began to rumble with a gentle croon, his fingers straying to card through her silky hair.
Gods, it shouldn’t be right for someone to be so soft.
He didn’t even have her naked against him, yet he could feel every inch of her and knew it’d be the pleasure of his life to touch her everywhere.
Unable to resist, Attalus bent to kiss the top of her head.
An inhale perked his ears, and he drew back to find her sapphire eyes fluttering blearily. He smiled to see her looking so sleepy and rumpled; it almost made her seem—
Within a blink, clarity returned to her gaze. A startled gasp escaped her, and she clapped both hands on his chest and pushed him away.
“And good morning to you, too, agae,” he sighed as he rolled onto his back.
He bit back another smile watching her struggle to get free of the blanket. More than a few choice curses fell from her lips before she jumped up, staggering a few steps away before catching her balance.
He wasn’t surprised when both Leita and Thalia turned glares on him.
Attalus just sat up on his hands and stretched out his legs, allowing her to admire the full length of his body.
Leita made a sound of disgust as she spun away.
I told you, said the unicorn sourly.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked Leita instead. “You worried me, fainting like that into my arms.”
“I didn’t faint, I…” She threw another glare at him over her shoulder. “I’m going into town. Stay here.”
“It’s still raining,” he noted. “And what town?”
“I can see that.” Lifting her hand, Leita stepped out into the rain—only for the droplets to slide away in an arc around her, as though she carried some invisible barrier over her head. “Thalia.”
With a huff, the mare got to her hooves, flapped her lips at him, and marched from the cave.
“What town?” he called after them.
But they left without another word and certainly no explanation.
Attalus blinked down at Slinky, bewildered. Was it bad to think he already missed sleeping Leita?
Sighing, he climbed to his feet. Somehow sensing his intent, Slinky yelped and tried to run away, but Attalus was faster. With a hold of her wriggling body, he took her and the soap cake to the edge of the cave and plunged both into the rain.
The marten glared at him as he washed her, utter betrayal writ all over her pointed face.
“Everyone else is huffy with me,” he said mournfully, “you might as well be, too.”
What town? Thalia asked.
There’s one a few leagues north, if I remember correctly, answered Leita, ankle deep and stuck in mud.
And we’re going to walk the whole way there in the rain, or…?
Glowering, Leita didn’t want to hear anything about their predicament.
Your predicament. I’m staying out of this, Thalia reminded her from where she stood safely on a rock.
You’re supposed to be on my side.
I am, Lala. But this wasn’t your strongest point.
“I just…” she sighed. “It surprised me. That’s all.”
Mm. And the blush you’re wearing even in the chilly rain, is that from surprise, too?
“Yes.”
I see.
Unfortunately, Thalia probably did, and that just annoyed Leita more.
Hands fisted on her hips, Leita took a long, calming breath. As she let it out, she lifted her arms into the air and began to alternately wave them in front of her, encouraging the rain to move on toward the mountains.
It took some time and effort, but eventually she could feel the shift in the air as the sopping rain finally began to move.
She could possibly turn it off immediately, but all that water had to go somewhere, so best to get it moving along.
They stood there for the better part of an hour, waiting for the final clouds to pass.
I kept watch, Lala, so don’t worry. He didn’t try anything, Thalia told her to pass the time.
Thank you. She didn’t like the idea of being so vulnerable so soon in front of Attalus. Leita should’ve known better, that the sleep would find her one way or another. It was her own fault she’d been in that position, and that annoyed her most.
He was…quite attentive to you.
Leita squinted at the unicorn. I thought you didn’t like him.
I’m ambivalent. He’s your azai, you’re the one who has to like him.
“No I don’t…” she muttered petulantly.
It’d make things simpler. Shaking out her wet mane, Thalia added, He can be tedious, but thus far he’s been otherwise tolerable. Given a little more time to heal, he seems fit and healthy. He can give you strong foals.
Leita choked on her own breath. It’s a bit soon to be thinking of fucking.
Why? I’m certain he already has. How much longer did you want him to court you?
He’s hardly courting me—he’s been healing!
So once he’s healed, you’ll consider fucking? You’ve always said you wanted foals.
An undignified, frustrated sound echoed in Leita’s throat. Instead of answering, she reached out her hand and waved at Thalia. “Help me get out of this mire.”
I’m trying, Lala, but as usual, you’re being an obstinate foal.
Taking hold of Thalia’s horn, Leita glared at her mama mare. You know I hate metaphors.
The town was called Hallevale, and Leita marched into it determined to avoid Thalia’s knowing looks and innuendos. She didn’t slow until she’d nearly reached the center of town, and it was there that she finally noticed all the stares.
Most of her life, Leita had avoided coming into towns.
After leaving behind the bones of her human family to lose herself in the wilderness, she’d had no need of interaction.
She knew how to hunt, forage, and weave.
She had Thalia for company and her magic for strength.
Towns could offer nothing but complications and possible danger.
The months in Fallorian hadn’t made her any more comfortable with it. Fallorian, as the great fae city it was, seemed its own realm; a forest of stone and architecture full of entirely new things. Whereas a town…a town she knew well enough.
Hallevale was one of the larger towns near the eastern border, with a few thousand souls spread between the town center and neighboring estates. She’d gambled that it was large enough to have what she needed—news and supplies for Attalus.
Dozens of faces peered curiously at her, with more and more poking out of windows and doors and around houses and fences.
Leita stared back, not having planned what to say.
Charis had lectured her about this again and again. Plan a friendly greeting and be prepared for anything.
Her palms were beginning to sweat as Thalia came to stand alongside her.
There was no reason for fae to fear unicorns, but seeing a mare in the middle of town certainly would be a sight. Murmurs began behind hands, and Leita could sense their growing concern.
Say something, urged Thalia.
Leita wanted to. She did. Except, whatever it might be was stuck in her throat.
Damn it all, why was the simplest thing so difficult for—
“My word, is that you, Your Highness?”
Although Hallevale was mostly made from wood, the buildings were all elegantly built, with sweeping gables and artfully carved columns.
The various hardwoods had been stained to rich, reddish browns and lacquered to a high shine.
Doors were inset with pearlescent shells, iridescent beetle wings, and elaborate scrollwork, some depicting whole scenes of famous plays or popular myths.
It was from one of these large doors, carved to resemble the tallest peak of the northern Griegen Mountains with the Twins depicted as stars above it, that a kindly older fae hurried out. Leita bit back her instinct to deflect his outstretched hand and instead offered her own in return.
The man pumped it vigorously in the human way of greeting before bowing to press his forehead into the back of her hand.
Straightening, he positively beamed at her, and Leita was struck by the brightness of his eyes. His sclera were white, his veins unseen beneath his skin. Had the fae of Hallevale already managed to break their subsistence on magic?
For a fae, the man was somewhat ruddy, his cheeks gleaming a warm plum color. His hair had been cut unfashionably short, perhaps because it couldn’t be contained. It stuck out every which way in curling white tufts, giving him the look of an excitable cloud as he patted her hand and grinned.
“Forgive my surprise, Highness. We were told to expect you, but with the fire and the weather, well, we were just as pleased to hope you wouldn’t be caught in it, too.”
Leita held back her wince but only just. “No one was hurt in the wildfire?” The burn scar had ended about a league away from town, but still, far too close for comfort.
“Not a one, thankfully,” said the old fae. “It was a strange fire, strange indeed, but at least the winds kept it south.”
“Strange? How so?”
“Glenys, my dear. Introductions, I think.” A stately fae matron came to stand beside the man. Whereas he was all enthusiastic exuberance, the woman was calm serenity. Her white hair hung in soft ringlets to her waist, framing a lined but kind face.
“Indeed, you’re quite right, my dear, quite right.
” Bowing once more, this time with an elegant flare of his left hand, the man again touched Leita’s hand to his forehead before declaring, “Welcome to Hallevale, Queen Leita. I am Glenys Berengion, duana-daín of this fine town. And this is my azai, Narinda.”
“It’s a pleasure to have you visiting us, Your Highness,” said Narinda, bowing herself.
The townsfolk watching on murmured and gasped before a cry went out, “It’s the new Queen!” Then, Leita was presented with dozens of heads as the fae bowed to her.
She clenched her teeth together to keep herself from squirming. The less fuss she made, the faster the formalities went.