The Courtship #2
My body sank. After a day of nothing but straight-backed posture and an evening of vigorous sex, my muscles were relieved at the release.
I speared a piece of fruit with my fork as Rhazien’s gaze bounced from his goblet to the papers, his obligations begging for his attention. “All business all the time, that Gorvin.”
I tipped my head side to side as I chewed on a suspiciously sweet strawberry.
Unable to resist the call to his royal duties, Rhazien collected the papers and straightened them into a neat pile. “May I propose something?”
“As long as it’s not marriage,” I quipped into my goblet. My cheeks flared.
Rhazien’s eyes flashed in surprise before he erupted into a booming laughter, melting away my fear of overstepping.
“Maybe someday, but no, not today,” he said as he composed himself again. My mind clung to the idea that the regent might propose marriage to me someday. “If I know Gorvin, which—of course—is rhetorical because I’ve known him for many decades, he’ll linger. And I’d prefer to remain undistracted.”
Mischief beaded within the greens of his eyes.
“What are you scheming?” I asked, pointing my fork in his direction.
He stood abruptly and strode to my chamber door.
I watched, wide-eyed, as he moved with haste, unable to take my eyes off the expanse of his exposed back.
Muscles perfectly formed for hard labor poured into the deep ravine of his spine.
Down, down, until they met the hem of his pants, held up by brawny thighs and his thick, round…
Thud. My heart pounded.
Thud. My core tightened.
Thud.
No, not a thud. A turn of a doorknob.
“Alba! Oh, here you are.” She must have been just outside the chamber door. Rhazien gestured for her to re-enter and she skittered around him. The door shut softly behind her gray figure and he instructed in a low whisper, “Prepare yourself to be a distraction when Gorvin comes looking for me.”
“What is happening?” I chuckled as I stood, fanning away the heat in my cheeks.
“Shh.” In a blink, he was in front of me. The whirlwind sent nearby candles into a frantic dance. “We haven’t got much time, my lady.” He swooped me into his arms. “But don’t worry, I’ve already planned our escape.”
My chuckle graduated to full laughter as he played out the dramatic, fictional scene. Even Alba, who couldn’t help but steal glances at us from my armoire, was clearly smiling beneath her veil.
I let out a huff of air as my stomach met his shoulder and he continued to role play. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” He pretended to fend off invisible attackers.
Rhazien spun as I playfully pounded his back, insisting he place me on solid ground. ”Keep me safe! Whatever from?”
Rhazien conceded, ending the battle against his invented, invisible forces.
My feet met the floor and I had completely forgotten Alba was there when I saw his face.
Rhazien was smiling so wide it made his eyes crinkle and I returned the expression.
My chest lifted and fell from the unexpected excitement while he stood perfectly still.
“Everything,” he whispered sweetly.
He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and cupped my face in his palm. I leaned into the heat and Rhazien’s blood purred.
“I’ll keep you safe…from everything.”
“And what about your kingdom, Your Majesty?” I tilted my chin, lifting my lips and hoping he would close the gap.
Rhazien pressed his forehead into mine, ran a thumb over my bottom lip, and growled, “The kingdom can wait.”
Flying. We were flying through the night, across an open plain on two steeds bred for racing. The wind whipped my riding cloak away from my face as we raced up a hillside. Moonlight peeked from behind thin clouds, casting the passing landscape in a wintery glow.
As regent, Rhazien didn’t need permission to leave the Hive, but I’d loved the game he’d made of our secret escape.
Complete with military hand signals and all too convenient false alarms that resulted in him pressing me against corridor walls in the name of protecting me and completing the mission, of course.
Now, we rode with abandon, not a chaperone or witness in sight.
At this speed, I was outrunning any worry or doubts. I felt like I was coming home to myself in the wind with no shackles, fences, walls or limits. It was a taste of freedom.
A whistle from my flank caught my attention as we reached the summit of a grassy hill and I pulled the reins of my mount.
I exhaled to the sky, blinking away the moisture that threatened to fall from my eyes.
“You’re no novice!” Rhazien yelled as he cantered to my side. I may have told a small lie back at the stable.
“That was medicine,” I said through a smile.
Rhazien dismounted, then gripped my hips as he lowered me to join him. He chuckled as he held me just above the earth long enough to kiss me beneath the waning moon.
“What else?” he asked, finally setting me down and letting his hands fall to the small of my back.
“Hmm?” I looked up at him, too distracted by his beauty to think straight.
“Gardening feels like home. Riding feels like medicine. What else?” He planted a kiss in the middle of my forehead and I melted beneath him. “Say the word and you’ll have it.”
I was at a loss for an answer. After a life of being trained to do one thing—be a good wife to a successful man— I didn’t know where those expectations ended and my own interests began.
I knew what I should want, but I’d never had space to explore what I liked or didn’t like. Years of practiced obedience had cultivated an internal voice that was now scolding me for considering exploring the ideas.
I frowned as I realized how little I knew about myself. Shame and embarrassment swirled in my belly because even though I’d tested boundaries, arguably more than other ladies of the human court, I’d still deprived myself of so much. I didn’t know who I was, or what I liked.
“I can tell you what I don’t want,” I chirped.
Rhazien’s attention floated from my wild hair to my bare neck to my parted lips. “Seems a good place to start.”
“I don’t want to sew, or darn, or embroider anything.” Somewhere back in Illica, my mother turned over in her grave.
“Done. Next.”
Elation simmered down my spine at the idea of living a life absent the activities I despised.
There was only one other thing I wanted to ask for. I bit my lip as I mustered the bravery to speak the words. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Cova and I had shared a room growing up.
Our childhood home had enough rooms for us to have our respective spaces, but we preferred to be together.
It wasn’t until I became pregnant with Lydia that I slept alone for the first time.
Father sent me to our seaside cottage, far away from the prying eyes of society to witness the growing evidence of my poor choices.
With no company other than my lady’s maid—whom father paid triple for her discretion—and the child inside of me, I would often cry myself to sleep.
The scene replicated itself again and again as the wife of Hollis Ashford, who was absent far more often than present.
That is, until I urged Hollis to hire Beau.
Rhazien had said our life could be different—would be different. The truth was, I wanted this, and him. I wanted him to weigh the other side of the bed. I wanted him to choose me every day and every night. I never wanted to experience the suffocating loneliness again.
“Done.” He squeezed me tighter, as if sealing his promise with his embrace.
I smiled at him through the alluring, hazy hope that this time, this man just might be all he said he would be.
“If there’s anything else, tell me, and I’ll see it done.”
One consuming kiss later, Rhazien turned to his mount, pulled a blanket from the saddle, and laid it flat on the hillside.
“What’s all this?” I crossed my arms against the chill of his absence.
“Just making us comfortable.”
I muffled a squeal of surprise when he produced two small pillows for our hilltop perch. This wasn’t a random excursion. He had planned this.
“You are —” I stopped myself short.
“I am…what…Lady Reyva?” A coy smile spread beneath his stubble.
Charming. Chivalrous. Playful. Attentive. Adventurous. Handsome.
“Not at all what I’d expected.” My cheeks ached from smiling.
“What did you expect?” he inquired as he fluffed a pillow.
“Commander Thorne had said I’d be treated well. I guess it’s just now sinking in that he wasn’t lying.” Rhazien’s blood recoiled at my thoughts of Dommik. It was then I’d realized I hadn’t thought of him yet that evening.
Rhazien stretched his hand, inviting me to the pallet of blankets under the moon and stars. We nestled together like two young lovers.
“You can call him Dommik when it’s just us.” A featherlight thumb trailed my cheek.
Calling Dommik by his formal title hadn’t been an accident. I wanted to distance myself, be less familiar, and give this growing thing with Rhazien a real chance.
I hummed a small, indifferent response and sank deeper into his hold.
“You think he’s dishonest?” Rhazien asked, his eyes tracking a shooting star.
It was a sticky question.
“I think he’s…” a lot of things, “...morally complex.”
“Mmm.” He placed a lazy, lingering kiss on the side of my head. “Why’s that?”
“Well, he was dressed as a Traveler when I met him.” My words became breathless as Rhazien’s finger hooked under my chin, turning my face to his.
“A forgivable manipulation, don’t you think?” His stubble tickled my cheeks as his nose circled mine. A delighted hum vibrated through my body, melting my thoughts of Dommik away like the snow after the Spring thaw.
Was it the blood making me feel so at home in his arms or was I falling fast for this man? Was he feeling that same sense of effortless comfort with me?
“I’ll forgive him this time,” I jested, our lips still touching.
“Reyva, the merciful,” he laughed into my mouth.