Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Merrick
Merrick wistfully watched Esmeray slink off since Sparrow now blocked the door with her arms crossed and a snarl on her face.
She waited until Esmeray’s footsteps disappeared before whirling on him, speaking low and quickly about her house rules.
Most of them revolved around a common theme of keeping Esmeray out of trouble, such as, “ Don’t let Esmeray instigate any more fights,” and, “Never drip blood on the living room rugs,” as if she already knew rule number one would be broken again.
So, Merrick stood there and took the verbal lashing the petite fae female launched on Laurent and himself. All the while imagining what Sparrow looked like under that delicious robe.
Laurent, hands clasped behind his back, concentrated intently on every word Sparrow spat at them.
After Sparrow had run out of rules–deemed by her stuttering and just jabbing her finger at them over and over, Laurent smoothly held out his arm and asked if he could bother her for one more glass of wine, steering her towards the stairs and initiating a conversation that involved his burning questions regarding a particularly exotic plant he spied on the bookshelf in her living room.
“Kiss ass.” Merrick shot through his ring as Laurent guided Sparrow away.
Laurent turned his head ever so slightly and shot a sly wink in Merrick’s direction.
Once he was alone on the patio, Merrick took his leave to the bedroom Sparrow assigned him.
The room was small, yet cozy, with a bed just large enough to fit a gargoyle.
A smattering of plump pillows with floral patterns and the soft greens of the bed sheets beckoned.
Merrick forced himself away, fearing the wrath of the beautiful fae that had expressly forbade him to lay down until he washed up.
Merrick tucked his wings tight as he slid past a low dresser and into the bathroom.
The tub steamed, aromas of jasmine and something woodsy filling the room.
Gods, help him.
She put oils in his bath.
Merrick made quick work of unbuckling his sword belt and shucking off his leathers. With a groan at the muscle-relaxing heat, he lowered his body into the tub and leaned his head back, trying to force his mind to slow down so he could process the day.
Esmeray was nothing like he expected. The wicked, traitorous, blood thirsty monster Adara led two Kingdoms of beings to believe lurked in every shadow waiting to make another kill was, in reality, one of the most fierce, badass, loyal females Merrick had ever met.
It was apparent Esmeray didn’t care how the world portrayed her, and would lean into the role of the villain if it meant it got her closer to getting Keerian back.
She took him waterfall jumping for gods’ sake.
Esmeray had sat and listened to him express his feelings and didn’t mock him for it, only supported him.
And then took down eight of Adara’s soldiers easily.
There were so many similarities Merrick saw between her and Keerian that Merrick knew Carra made the perfect match.
If the world ever got to see it, King Keerian and Queen Esmeray had a nice ring to it.