Chapter 35
A fter a long, sleepless night, the next day brought a different kind of tension.
First, Rowan bounded downstairs like a maiden ready for her first walk around the gardens. I wasn’t even aware she knew how to fix her hair, but she had the top part braided back into something resembling submission, revealing her full face for the first time since the Summit.
Her eyes glowed brighter than usual, accented both by her emerald dress and her obvious excitement at the choice of breakfast. If I had realized food would do so much to lift her mood, I would have shoved a few biscuits her way ages ago.
She fidgeted while she waited for breakfast, her hand twitching anxiously toward her hair, like it had so many times at the Summit.
I was reluctantly prepared to revisit our conversation about how the day needed to go, when she did something entirely unexpected. As soon as she realized butter was a luxury my men didn’t often enjoy, she used the smallest possible amount before pushing the dish away from herself. It was surprisingly selfless, for someone I had rarely seen consider the people around her.
All at once, I had even less desire to fight with her again. Perhaps she had more sense than I gave her credit for, once she understood the stakes.
She looked longingly around and I glanced down at the extra biscuit on my plate. We had a better chance for success if she was in a better mood, which I had already learned was far more likely if she was well fed.
That was the only reason I deposited the plate in front of her before going to ready my things. Practicality.
It was the only thing that made sense.
Since she’d been marginally less difficult than usual during breakfast, the princess seemed to be more than a little determined to make up for that now.
It started when I told her she would be riding with me to the negotiations. Her viridian eyes went wide when I seated her on my horse before climbing up behind her.
Maxim’s black eyes also widened, but in his case, it was more annoyance than surprise.
“Why—” Rowan began, cutting off just as I slid my gloved hands around her waist to grab the reins.
“Because, Lemmikki,” I sighed, accidentally inhaling a deep breath of her citrus and amber scent. “I do love to hear you complain.”
She huffed a sound that was somewhere between irritation and amusement. And then, for the next several hours-long ride, she did nothing but fidget and squirm in her seat, making for a rather uncomfortable journey, to say the least.
Each time she leaned into me, she shifted her hips away, causing more and more friction. Between that and her wild curls blowing back into my face, it was a never-ending assault by my feral little lemmikki for hours on end, and I was more than ready to be at camp.
Apparently, the feeling was mutual since I had to physically restrain her from leaping off the horse before we even came to a stop.
“Wait,” I growled in her ear, and she stilled.
I caught my cousin’s eye, signaling for him and Dmitriy to head in to find Arès. I needed to confirm that his soldiers were here before I just let my captive run headfirst into some trap Iiro might have set for us.
Several Elk soldiers glared from their position at the edge of camp, along with a man I didn’t recognize. Despite the Socairan clothes he wore, his posture and his smug expression were entirely Lochlannian.
It wasn’t just that though, there was something about him that I couldn’t quite place. Something almost familiar.
Though he kept his expression fairly neutral, he clenched his fists as he glared at the spot where my arm was securely locked around his princess’s waist. Were my initial suspicions about their relationship correct? It didn’t quite look like jealousy, at least not as blatant as that being shown by Korhonan, who was all but frothing at the mouth.
Once Taras emerged from the tent, signaling that all was good and Iiro was not at the camp, I released my grip and the princess practically flew from my arms. She raced across the clearing, her eyes locked on her guard and not Korhonan.
The soldier met her in the middle of the field, just as desperate to get to her as she was him. She threw her arms around his neck, and he lifted her into the air in one fluid motion.
I was off my horse and closing in on them before her feet even hit the ground. The greeting was even more familiar than their letter had been.
Then again, she seemed to have that effect on people—getting them to let down their guard all too quickly while she weasled her way into their affections.
I thought of my men. Of Yuriy. Storms, even Taras last night with the arse-print contest…
And now, this guard and a sanctimonious Korhonan standing just behind them.
I narrowed my eyes, studying the way he watched the two of them. For all of his scruples, and the fact that he claimed to be head over heels in love with her, he certainly didn’t seem to overly-mind this display.
“Well. It seems you’ve gotten yourself in quite the pickle this time, Row,” the guard said, breaking the silence.
Row?
Theodore didn’t even flinch at the nickname. Common in Lochlann or not, there was an intimacy here that should have bothered him. Strange that it didn’t…
She laughed softly, then faced Korhonan, like she was seeing him for the first time since we arrived.
Interesting. All of it was…interesting.
Then she was in his arms, sighing against his chest in a way that made me want to grab my sword and run it through both of them, or possibly myself.
“You’re awfully cozy with my pet, Korhonan, and you know I don’t like to share,” I said after clearing my throat pointedly.
“And you’re awfully cocky for someone who stole the Lochlannian King’s favorite daughter.” The guard said it like it was a fact, and even Rowan didn’t argue.
She really was the favorite then, wayward middle child and all. Just when I thought things couldn’t get more complicated.
Anger turned his sharp blue eyes into icicles. “Either you’re arrogant enough to believe you can withstand a war against our people, even when the first one failed, or you’re too stupid to realize it will come to that. So, which is it? Arrogant, or stupid?”
He was testing me. I could see it in his eyes, the way he was looking for a reaction.
“Davin.” The princess hissed the name in warning before glancing over at me.
Something niggled at the back of my mind. That name, the familiarity between them… Not that she was opposed to having dalliances with those beneath her station. If a stable boy was acceptable, why not a guard?
Then again, he was supposed to be a eunuch, wasn’t he? And yet, he was decidedly masculine for someone with that…affliction.
“This must be the eunuch guard you’ve told me so much about,” I said, glancing between the two of them.
The guard kept his expression neutral, but red crept into Rowan’s cheeks while she fought back laughter.
“Mhmm,” Davin replied quickly. “That is me. A…big ol’ eunuch.”
There was something in the cadence of his voice and the way he moved his mouth when he spoke that told me exactly what I had been missing. I could have kicked myself for not realizing it sooner, for not noting the distinct cupid’s bow on his upper lip. The one that almost perfectly matched hers.
Then there was the fact that while Davin might be a common name in Lochlann, it was also the name of her cousin—the only son of Prince Oliver.
What I couldn’t figure out was why she had kept it secret… Had that been her idea or Iiro’s? A glance at Theodore’s bemused expression told me that he knew exactly who Davin was, so his brother did, too.
Arès's voice cut through the air as he beckoned us to enter the main tent to begin negotiations.
“My, my, Lemmikki,” I said, so only she could hear. “It would seem you have been keeping secrets of your own.”
Rowan blanched at the implication, though she refused to turn around and face me. Instead, she marched directly into the tent like she could pretend she hadn’t been lying to me about everything since the moment I met her.