18. Raven
Icrashed back first to the surface of the bed and stared at the ceiling. The last several hours had turned the day into something else. If only I could figure out how I felt about that something else.
Valen’s rude treatment and then later inquisition and apology, the Killian telling me he wanted me dead…dead! And Chace. What in all of reaping hell had happened there?
I pressed two fingers to my lips, thinking maybe I could still feel the tingle of his kiss.
Kiss. I had kissed Chace Badden, and…if I was being honest with myself…I didn’t care what either of our fathers thought. I’d enjoyed those moments with him, a lot, and I refused to regret my actions.
What did this new development mean for whatever was happening between Winter and me? And did either development weigh upon the other?
“Oh no, my lady.” Neive dashed in from the adjoining room. “You mustn’t soil the clean bed linens with your muddied attire.”
Too proper to lay a hand on me and drag me from the bed, Neive pinned me with an expectant gaze, as if attempting to will me into submission.
I rolled my eyes. “But I’m tired. And besides, I’m the one who will have to sleep with said soiled sheets. Not you.”
“But, my lady—” Neive gasped at the flutter of wings against the terrace doors.
Several crows landed upon the veranda floor and furniture, scavenging for anything of interest.
“Oh no. Pesky birds.” She threw open the glass doors and chased the birds away. “There have been so many of them lately. It has been quite annoying.”
I lolled my head to the side to better view the feathered flurry and escaping flight. A few of the birds refused to scare, and Neive jumped and hollered, attempting to chase them away. One stubborn bird cawed in response.
I covered my mouth and laughed.
The laughter was a drug easing a part of me that had been wound too tight for far too long.
I felt…oddly enough…rather high on life.
Sure, my situation was less than favorable.
I was isolated from my family, had lost my mentor, and had an unthinkable reap resting on my shoulders, but I’d just fought the Killian…
and I wasn’t dead! And I’d kissed Chace… and I wasn’t even sorry.
Plus, I’d started my day free of icy magic thanks to my mutually beneficial relationship with the winter prince.
So, despite the refuse pile that presently made up the majority of my life, I smiled. And I laughed. Laughed so much that I didn’t hear the apartment door announce the new arrivals.
“What is so funny?” Lucas asked at the same time Winter said, “Now that is a sound I have not had the pleasure of experiencing nearly enough. I believe the last time you laughed with such heart was the week we met. You were still staying at the Bridge Crossings Pub.”
The prince leaned against the bedchamber doorframe, his bent right arm held high against the casting, a crystal decanter in his raised grasp. Relaxed at his side, his left hand held a soft canvas bag.
The fact that Winter would recall the frequency with which I laughed struck a chord within me. Who, besides my parents, ever paid that close attention to me?
Pushing up to my elbows on the bed, I scrutinized him but said nothing. We shared an assessing gaze that spread into mirrored grins.
“We brought refreshments,” he said, breaking the silence and swirling the decanter, setting the amber liquid to swoosh.
I stretched my legs out on the bed, crossing them at the ankles. “So you did.”
Neive returned from the terrace and closed the double glass doors. When she spun back into the room, her gaze dropped upon me, and her eyes blew wide.
“Oh no, my lady!” She rushed forward and tapped the toe of my boot. “No shoes on the bed.”
With another chuckle, I obeyed and swung my feet to the floor.
“And that, dear Lucas, would be the answer to your question. Aside from the bird activity outside my door…” I tilted my head toward the terrace.
“My unladylike behavior seems to have gotten under Neive’s skin this evening, and for some odd reason, I find that fact rather entertaining. ”
Lucas snorted. “I am having dinner sent up. It should be here shortly.”
He turned back into the adjoining room and walked out of view. Neive glanced between Winter and me, gave a tiny start, and then followed Lucas at a dash. The two servants made enough noise in the next room so that their movements were easily traceable.
I narrowed my gaze on Winter and swung a slow, sharp point indicating Neive and Lucas’s odd departure. “Did you have something to do with that?”
Winter’s grin kicked up a notch. “And why would you think that?”
“Why would I not?” I retorted. “I know I haven’t spent a ton of time with them…” Yet. “But that exit was just all kinds of awkward.”
“It was. Wasn’t it?” Winter pushed off the doorframe and stepped deeper into the bedroom, a crooked stance in his motion to match the crooked grin clinging to his lips.
A soft noise outside the terrace doors snagged my attention. I stole a glance without turning my head. A big black bird, with a coveted rolled message, waited. For some reason I couldn’t identify, my heart did a tiny flip.
I pushed to my feet and rounded the bed, meeting Winter mere feet inside the door. I pressed the palms of my hands into the flat lines of his chest, halting any further forward gain.
“How much of that stuff have you already had?” I lifted my chin, indicating the liquor sloshing back and forth in the decanter.
“Not much.” His lips smashed together with a slight downward curve. “Or just enough. Take your pick.”
“Mm-hmm.” A smile teased my mouth as I began to push him back, out of my bedchamber.
His gaze swiveled to take in where I guided his body. “What are you doing? I thought we could—”
“You heard my lady’s maid. I’m a filthy mess in need of a bath. I’m going to clean up and…should you choose to wait…I shall see to you after.”
“But I came bearing gifts.” He raised the canvas bag.
“Thank you.” I snatched the bag from his grasp then spun and stalked back to the bedroom. “Later, dear prince.”
I closed the door between us, Neive and Lucas’s burst of chuckles a tiny, warm reward.
After a quick glance to verify the message-bearing raven waited for me at the terrace door, I tossed the canvas bag onto the bed, darted into the bath chamber, and began filling the tub.
I was in need of cleansing the day from my skin, but the running water also helped mask any sounds made by the bird or terrace doors.
Thankfully, both were relatively quiet when I collected the message.
Resisting the urge to unroll and read the letter immediately, I first filled the tub with fizzing soaps and aromatic salts.
The awaiting letter had to be from Chace, and after what had transpired between us earlier in the day, or especially because of what had taken place, I wanted to be clean when I read his words.
The dirt upon my body shouldn’t matter. I knew that, but I had every intention of honoring that irrational feeling.
Leaving the scrolled message on the counter near the sink, I dropped my filthy attire in a puddle, slipped under the water, and attempted to rinse away all my crimes and traitorous, sinful thoughts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“What are you doing in there?” Winter called through the closed bedchamber door. He continued to linger in the outer receiving room with Lucas and Neive. “I heard the water drain over an hour ago.”
“It has not been an hour,” I retorted.
Twenty minutes at most.
I sat on the bed, scrubbed clean, hair brushed, and clothed in an oversized shirt and male’s sleeping pants that Neive had acquired from somewhere. The pieces were baggy but comfortable.
In my hand, I held Chace’s message. I’d already read it several times and was chewing over the lines once again.
Winter scoffed response sounded through the barrier. He was clearly inebriated, a side of him I had not seen before this evening.
“Are you pleasuring yourself? Because if you are, I could—”
“Your Highness!” Neive squeaked.
“Sire,” Lucas cut in. “That was a bit too brash, even for you, if I do say so myself.”
The sounds of them tugging Winter from the other side of the door followed.
“Let Neive take this. Yes. Yes.” A soft shuffle. “We all agree you’ve had enough liquid courage for the night.” Lucas’s voice dropped as if intended for only the prince. “Don’t embarrass yourself any further.”
I smiled in spite of myself. If Winter was drunk, would he be able to reveal necessary secrets regarding the palace, the queen, and the curse?
Pressing Chace’s corresponding parchment flat, I scrambled to the head of the bed and slipped the message into a crevice along the backside of the headboard, right next to the first message he’d sent a few days prior.
If my room were to be searched for any reason, the pillows and mattress would be tossed, drawers pulled and emptied. Every space searched. I hoped the slight slot between fitted wood pieces would stand a better chance of remaining undetected. Still, I needed to find a better location. Just in case.
“Bath times and eager princes aside.” Lucas’s voice returned to the other side of my bedchamber door. “Your supper is getting cold.”
I leaped off the bed and padded toward the locked door separating me from my uninvited guests. “I’m coming.”
“Please do,” Winter drawled, his smile evident in his drunken delivery.
Both Neive and Lucas quickly admonished him.
This should be fun.
I heaved a deep breath and pulled open the bedchamber doors. “Supper, you said?”
My gaze immediately found Lucas. His features were tight, clearly trying to hide his true response to the situation.
With a flourish of a hand movement, the manservant presented an awaiting chair and the food spread out on the center table.
Two chairs stood beside the otherwise stand-alone piece, and Winter sat slouched, rather unroyal-like, in the opposite seat.