Chapter 35 #2
This is about you. He pulled Grim alongside Arlys, slipping a finger beneath her bridle.
I swallowed as he drew me in close, our knees brushing together.
The mare snapped her teeth, causing the bay to squeal.
Mordric will use all the resources at his disposal to keep you safe. You have to trust me to do the same.
I glanced between him and the gates. Mordric beamed as he met my gaze, raising a hand in greeting. A small part of me was bothered that Enhart would leave me here. But why did I care? I ignored the unease that dug its claws into my chest.
“Now, now,” he purred. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Fine then,” I said aloud. I trust you.
He winked before swinging Grim around and galloping off the bridge. I watched, bewildered, as he disappeared into the city.
Mordric pulled me into an embrace the moment I dismounted, crushing me to his chest. Relief flooded me as he held me in his arms. I relished the knowledge that our journey was behind us and I was finally safe. I closed my eyes, burrowing into the folds of his shirt.
“Welcome home,” he whispered into my hair.
A hot, sluggish emotion that I couldn’t quite place seeped out of him as I sighed, inhaling his scent. “It’s good to be home.”
Mordric slipped his fingers under my chin, bringing my lips to his. All the aches and exhaustion that had plagued me for days ebbed away for that brief moment, withering in his glow.
When my eyelids fluttered open, a smile played on his lips. “Where has my brother run off to?”
I sighed. “I honestly have no idea.”
He chuckled, threading my arm through his. “No matter. Come, you must tell me everything,” he said. “You can’t imagine what I was thinking when I received Enhart’s letter,” he said. “The Chancellor is fortunate that the Pass of Pelthen stands between us, or I would’ve come after you myself.”
“I’m alright now,” I assured him.
“I will see to it that the guilty parties are punished, mark my words.”
Nerves skittered down my spine. I didn’t want to see Ivor and Agnes punished, but I held my tongue as his anger pulsed from the skin beneath my fingertips.
We roamed the familiar corridors as I regaled him with stories from our travels, carefully omitting the incident with Luc, and Enhart’s revelations about Ophelia. Mordric’s guards trailed after us, the metal plates of their armor clinking together as they walked.
When I arrived at the story of the witches, his grip on my arm tightened.
“Savages,” he growled. “My Keeper of Secrets is already looking into it.”
I pictured Victoria on the only occasion I had met her, the solstice ball. She’d hovered on the periphery the entire night, a warning lurking behind her narrowed eyes. I’d hate to find myself on the other end of her knife. “Do you think you’ll find them?” I asked.
He scoffed. “I’m the King of Valen, Finn. Of course I will.”
He ushered me into his study, positioning himself behind the orderly stacks of parchment lining his desk.
The ruby on his finger sparkled as he folded his hands together.
I marveled at how little seemed to have changed in my time away.
Except, perhaps, for the presence of the guards who had trailed us into the study.
Not guards, I realized, peering more closely at their uniforms as they settled against the wall to Mordric’s back. Each of them bore a crest on their chests, but instead of the familiar silhouette of Valnar Castle, they touted a sword and a banner.
Soldiers.
“So, you mastered the Ealdorfyre,” said Mordric, recapturing my attention. “I’m so proud of you.”
I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, my eyes trained on the smooth mahogany of the desk. “I don’t know what Ivor’s been telling you, but I haven’t exactly mastered it.”
“Ivor didn’t tell me that,” he corrected me. “Enhart did. He’s very proud of your progress. As am I.”
My cheeks warmed. “That’s very kind of him.”
“I can’t believe I ever let you leave,” he continued, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. Especially these last few nights.”
The sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. “How about we draw you a hot bath to soothe your aching bones? You’ve more than earned it.”
“I’d like nothing more.”
Mordric’s soldiers detached themselves from the wall as we rose. “Where are we going?” I asked as he pulled me to the left just outside the door to his study.
“I’ve had your things moved to the north wing of the castle.”
My brow creased. I hadn’t wandered into the north wing since I was a chambermaid.
The windows pointed away from the city, and even on the brightest of days, there would be no sunlight to spill across the flagstones.
Our footsteps were muffled against a worn carpet woven with a trellis of black and crimson.
Throughout the castle, one could often hear the excited babbling of the nobility, spurred by the latest scandal at court.
But here, the only noise was the bored shuffling of the soldiers behind us.
Even the air was stale, as if we were the only souls to pass through the winding corridors in an age.
I wondered if he’d sent word of my return to Niamh and Vesper. Perhaps not, given the circumstances.
“The north wing?” I echoed. “Why?”
“Security,” he explained. “After everything that happened at Hollybrook, I would feel better if you slept here.”
I pulled him to a stop, my fingers wrapped around his wrist. My eyes skirted over the rivulets of red surrounding his irises. “You’re worried,” I observed.
He ducked his head. “I’m always a little worried about you,” he admitted, clasping my hand in his. “But now, even more so.”
“I’ll be alright,” I assured him. “I’m safe here.”
My breath caught in my throat as he pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
Sweeping his fingers under my chin, he tilted my face toward his.
That strange emotion spilled out of him again, the one I couldn’t quite place.
“Allow me to spoil you,” he implored. “If only for a few nights until I’m sure the witches won’t come crawling in through the windows. ”
I chuckled. “If that’s what you want.”
The suite Mordric had prepared for me was extravagant, complete with a private dining room, washroom, and a bedchamber that was even larger than my last. The upholstery was puffy and plush, decorated in the colors of the royal family.
A cloud of incense hung in the air, its perfume thick enough to nearly lull me into sleep.
“Are you sure this is all for me?” I asked, my brows stretching upward.
He beamed at me. “I’m sure. You may leave the doors open.” He gestured at the heavy metal doors at the main entrance. “So that the staff may enter. The interior doors lock, and I’ve instructed the guards outside to make sure that no one bothers you.”
“Alright,” I said, yawning as I sank into the armchair closest to the fire.
“I have some business to attend to, and you should get some rest. But I’ll meet you here for supper this evening?”
I frowned. “We won’t be taking our supper in the dining room?”
“I thought this would be more intimate.”
I sighed, shrugging off my cloak. “If you insist.”
“Allow me.”
I stopped short, recognizing the hungry look in his eyes. His words ignited a spark within me, stoked by the many weeks I’d spent out of his reach. The long, cold nights I’d spent without him in my bed. “If you insist,” I repeated.
Mordric closed in on me like a ravenous wolf, pulling me roughly to my feet.
His hands brushed the back of my neck as he eased the cloak from where it now hung on my arms, his lips lingering just inches from my own.
I shuddered as he inched his fingers through the laces that kept my shirt closed, my breathing shallow.
Suddenly, I was no longer tired. I pressed my lips to his, slipping my tongue between his lips.
A low growl escaped him as he returned my kiss, his desire making itself known against my thigh.
His hands wandered to my waist, easing my belt from my breeches.
It dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.
“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty.”
I cursed silently, recognizing the voice of one of the pages. Mordric’s hands halted in their path.
“What do you want?” he growled.
I craned my neck in time to see the page’s eyes practically pop out of his head. “I, er, I’m afraid there’s an urgent matter that requires your attention. Lord Volorthen sent me.”
“Good gods,” Mordric whispered, his eyes ravishing me. “They pick the worst times to interrupt.”
I chuckled, brushing my lips against his cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time,” I promised.
He wound his fingers through my hair, his eyes flashing. I wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or his scent that made me forget about the page who lingered awkwardly just a few feet away. I sighed as Mordric finally detached himself from me, squeezing my hand.
“Yes,” he assured me. “We certainly will.”