Chapter 43
ACKER
My stomach tightens in knots as I watch Jovie get dressed. I don’t regret anything that just happened by any means, but it’s going to make our departure all the more difficult, and it’s as if the Bond already knows, the tether strung tight between us.
Jovie slips her top over her head, shaking her hair from her face, skin still flushed with a rosy sort of glow. “You’re staring,” she says, eyes flicking to me before reaching for her discarded pants.
I grin, but it’s short lived. “You’re stunning,” I tell her, the words leave me in a punch of air.
Her answering smile only deepens her blush, and it makes the painful sensation in my stomach tighten to the point of nausea.
Steps sound outside the closed door of her bedroom, and as if the reality of the situation is hitting her, Jovie’s wide gaze swings to me. “You don’t think they heard, do you?”
Shoving my head through my shirt, I bite my cheek, releasing it as I contemplate lying to her.
“At this point, Fredrich’s heard it all,” I say, chuckling at the shade of red her cheeks are turning.
“And I had to find new sleeping arrangements on many occasions due to Irina bringing her lover to our bed, so think of this as a little bit of poetic justice.”
She makes a face but doesn’t comment on it further.
But a look of determination quickly paints her features, and I know I’m going in for another argument.
“The second you step foot in the palace without Beau or Irina, your father will know you haven’t been doing what he tried to influence you to do.
He’ll kill you and Fredrich both on the spot. ”
Sighing, I sit next to her on the haphazardly unmade bed, wrapping an arm across her waist and pulling her onto my chest as I lie back. “You underestimate me.”
Propping herself up on an elbow, she looks down at me. “I think your arrogance will be your greatest detriment.”
I sweep her hair over her shoulder, getting a peek of her exposed shoulder through the opening of her shirt, running my fingers over the bite marks across the tender skin. “I warned you that I wouldn’t change my mind.”
She gives me a smart look. “If there’s anything your father understands, it’s that he knows you’d never go to Maile and return without your Match.”
That’s … a fair assessment.
I love the idea of keeping her with me. It’s why I went to get her in the first place, aside from just seeking an alliance.
Even though I knew Fredrich was looking out for her, shielding her when possible, it never satisfied the anxiety of not being able to see her with my own two eyes.
It’s tempting, but I could never walk her into the palace, not now knowing the depravity my father’s hiding behind its walls.
I shake my head. “It’s too risky.” Before her temper can spike again, I kiss her, my lips brushing against hers when I beg: “Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
After a long beat, I ever so slowly feel the tension melt from her body, her weight settling over me.
“The message I sent my mother,” she says, laying her chin on my chest. “After assuring her that I was alive and well, I gave her the orders to send the armada up the Yanka River to set up camp in the valley west of the capital.”
I suck on my teeth as I think of an appropriate response, but all that comes out is: “I know.”
“You know?” she asks, dubious.
“The quill had a metal nib inside of it,” I explain.
Her mouth falls open. “You were able to decipher what I wrote just from the sliver of metal inside the spine of the feather?”
“It took a great deal of concentration, but I was able to get the gist.”
Her astonishment doesn’t last long. “Then I think you would agree it’s best that I meet the Maile forces in the valley, to ensure they don’t invade and further complicate your coup.”
I open my mouth, but I’m unable formulate a sound argument against it. She’d likely be safer with her own militia, and she can command them far away from the palace and my father. She takes my hesitation as confirmation, already sitting up and making for the door before I can stop her.
“Wait,” I yell, reaching for the pack that got knocked to the floor before following her out the door. She’s already at the servants’ stairwell when I emerge, “I never said yes.”
She doesn’t bother looking over her shoulder as we descend the narrow stairs. “The word you’re looking for, Acker, is compromise.”
Fredrich is the first to speak when we enter the parlor. “He’s never heard of the concept,” he remarks, sitting with his back to the bar.
I point at him. “Mind your business.”
“It’ll cut our travel time in half,” he says, ignoring my warning. “And it makes the most sense, having Jovie lead the charge from the west rather than risk the wrath of Evelyn.” He lifts a brow in my direction. “I promise you that.”
Jovie retrieves my father’s sword from the mantle once again, swinging her smug gaze at me. “Don’t you trust me?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little.”
Her answering smile is pure brass and I can’t help the grin from spreading across my lips as I stride across the parlor, pulling her by the neck into a kiss.
I’ve learned my lesson to never underestimate her again, and I just pray to the gods that she’s on my side moving forward, or Mother help me otherwise.
If Jovie lays a trap from this point forward, I’m willing to walk into it with a fool’s heart.
A grumbly noise of exertion draws our attention to the entrance hall where Irina heaves what appears to be a bundle of furs over the back of a settee.
She swipes the fallen strands of hair from her face and straightens.
“I found these in the coat closet. Should be enough for everyone, assuming Messer won’t need one. ”
Jovie detangles herself from me, my hands slipping from her as she moves toward the woman I’ve called my wife the past four years; the girl I once courted in hopes of a successful union.
Somethings flipped in Irina since we left Kenta.
She’s been less volatile. Happier, almost. And as she looks at my Match with a small, accepting smile, I wonder if I underestimated how miserable she was as my forced spouse, regardless of how I tried to cater to her.
She wades through the different furs before settling on a white and speckled coat, holding it up for Jovie to see. “I think this one may fit you,” she says.
Jovie takes the coat from her hands, running her own over the soft fur, appreciation in her gaze when she looks up at Irina.
“My armada is likely anchored at the mouth of the Yanka River. When we get to where the men are camped in the valley, I can make arrangements for a ship to take you across the gulf to Strou,” she says, voice soft.
“If you’d still like to return home, that is. ”
Irina’s answering smile is small when she nods. “I’d like that very much.”
The poignant moment is interrupted by the front door whipping open and a wind beaten and naked Messer trouncing inside, bringing forth a blast of icy cold with him.
He stops at the entrance of the parlor, gaze swinging between the four of us.
The man is entirely too comfortable with having his cock out at any given moment.
Irina takes it upon herself to throw one of the furs at him and he thankfully wraps it around himself.
His gaze stops short on Jovie with a healthy amount of trepidation. Rightfully so, considering he went behind her back to secure the alliance with Kai under my command. I can’t see her face, as her back is to me, but whatever Messer sees has him deploying the full effect of his puppy dog eyes.
“Would it make a difference if I said your Match threatened to pluck out my feathers if I didn’t comply?”
I sneer at him. “You fucking snitch.”
Jovie lifts a hand to stop whatever Messer was about to spout back. “Did Kai seem satisfied with the terms of the agreement?”
He dips his head in a nod. “Yes.”
Jovie’s gaze swings toward Fredrich as he tries and fails to slink away from the conversation, knowing he, too, was aware of the decision made behind her back. “Go get the horses ready,” she says, giving him a pass.
He nods. “Will do.”
Irina, uncomfortable with the turn of discussion, excuses herself, pulling on a fur coat as she follows Fredrich out the door.
Jovie’s attention turns back to Messer, and I have a feeling his betrayal hurts just as bad as Fredrich’s and mine combined. “Just say you’re sorry so we can move on,” she says, curtly.
If the poor bastard wouldn’t have just ratted me out, I might actually feel bad for him as he spits the apology out quickly. “I’m sorry, B.”
Although she demanded the apology, she doesn’t immediately accept. There’s a pinch between her shoulder blades that hasn’t abated. The emotion from her end of the tether is sharp. Maneuvering closer, I place a hand against her back, rubbing the tension there.
The gesture diverts Messer’s attention, a grin slowly overtaking his features. “This,” he says, pointing a finger between us. “This is cute.”
Jovie glares at him. “This is a serious discussion, Messer.”
“Sure,” he says with a halfhearted shrug. “After finally giving in to the sexual tension you two’ve been harboring for weeks now, it’s actually quite adorable.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “How are you able to discern that?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, actually, and I think it’s an animal instinct,” he says, expression turning contemplative, as if my question actually is worthy of a considered response. “Like, an additional sense I’m more attuned to because of my shifting.”
Messer’s musings are effective in knocking the wind out of Jovie’s sails. “What am I going to do with you?”
Messer’s answering smile is full, simply happy that Jovie has decidedly let the anger over his decision go.
I would love nothing more than to dim it a little. “You could roast him over a spit,” I offer.