Chapter 14 Cethin
Cethin
The sound of the bedchamber door opening down the hall had him glancing at the clock above the hearth.
It was the early morning hours of dawn, when most people in Avonleya were only a few hours into their sleep.
Despite ignoring him the rest of the day yesterday, he knew Kailia had only gone to bed a few hours ago.
She might be avoiding him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of her every move.
Unsure if she simply didn’t sleep a lot or if it was something more, he stilled and waited.
He didn’t hear footsteps, but he’d quickly learned she was incredibly light on her feet.
Whether it was an Ash Rider thing or her own talent, there wasn’t a godsdamn sound to tell him if she was nearing or if she’d stayed in the bedchamber.
It wasn’t until he saw her in his periphery that he slid his piece of charcoal into the leather-bound journal in his lap and closed it.
She slipped quietly into the room, leaving ashy footprints in her wake as she made her way to the windows.
Pulling back a curtain, she peered out, but he didn’t miss the tremble in her hand as the fabric shook where she still held it.
Clearing his throat softly, he said, “I didn’t expect you to be awake so early.”
“Most places rise with the sun,” she murmured.
“Avonleya is not most places,” he replied.
She nodded, still staring out the window.
“But I suspect it is an adjustment considering you’ve been in the kingdom a year at most,” he added nonchalantly.
That had her entire being going still for a few moments before she slowly turned to face him, the heavy drape falling closed once more. Any satisfaction he’d briefly had at throwing this at her to catch her off guard quickly faded as he fully took her in.
The smoke in her eyes was swirling faster than normal, the amber in them almost completely obscured.
Faint ashes flowed among her midnight hair that was a mess of tangles, as if she’d been thrashing around.
She was still in her nightclothes—a black silk nightgown that reached the floor with thin straps at her shoulders and was more than a little revealing in the front.
If it weren’t for the rest of her body language, he’d be far more appreciative of the attire.
It wasn’t just her hand that was trembling, but her whole body shook with a faint tremor.
Her breathing was a little too quick and shallow, and she kept reaching as if she was going to run her hands along her arms or torso but then stopping herself.
Haunted.
That was how she looked.
He stood, setting the journal on the side table, and she took a step back right into the drapery.
“Kailia…” he started, hesitating. He cleared his throat lightly again. “There’s a robe in the bedchamber for you. Several of them, actually.”
As if just realizing how she was dressed, she looked down at herself.
“I’m not cold,” she replied, her brows knitting together.
He paused, as confused as she appeared. “That’s not what I was suggesting.” When she continued to stare back at him, he added, “That’s rather revealing night clothing.”
“You are the one who ordered my wardrobe. If you didn’t want me to wear it, why did you provide it?” she asked, sounding exasperated. Then she lifted her arm, turning it to apparently…study her forearm?
This whole interaction was becoming rather bizarre, but by the gods, he was more than drawn in at this point.
He found himself distracted, spending his time trying to come up with ways to figure her out rather than focusing on things that needed his attention.
He’d already pushed off an entire council meeting, but every time he thought he was making headway, something like this conversation happened, making him realize he hadn’t figured any part of her out at all.
She’d become an obsession—a distraction he couldn’t afford right now—and he needed to stop. He knew that.
But he also didn’t want to.
Her fingers brushed over her forearm before she looked him up and down. “You are still dressed from yesterday’s activities.”
“I am,” he agreed. He’d discarded his belt and boots, and his tunic was loose over his pants. Still far more casual than he’d ever be seen outside these rooms.
“And the other side of the bed was not slept on.” It was his turn to stay silent and hold her stare. “Where did you sleep?”
“I haven’t gone to bed yet.”
“But you sleep?”
“Of course I sleep. At the very least to restore my magic.”
She nodded, breaking their stare and her gaze darting to the side. He stepped forward, but she immediately stepped back again, pressing against the window behind the curtains.
Pushing out a frustrated breath, he ran his hands through his hair. He thought he’d made progress with the touching yesterday, but apparently not.
Slipping his hands into his pockets, he said, “While I have not been to bed yet, you didn’t sleep long.”
“I rarely do.”
“Sleep long?”
“Sleep,” she answered simply.
He nodded as he pulled a hand from his pocket and sent a message off in a swirl of darkness. Her eyes narrowed, and before she could ask, he said, “I requested tea be brought up for us.”
“I didn’t ask for tea.”
“Yes, but you seem…out of sorts,” he ventured, settling on the phrase, but it was a lie. He didn’t know her well enough to know if this was unusual. She was odd enough, it could very well be normal behavior, but that was exactly what he was trying to figure out.
Stepping to the side, he gestured to the sofa. “Come and sit, Kailia.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t fight him despite her tentative footsteps.
Ashes still fluttered with her movement, and once she lowered to the cushions, she lifted a hand, drawing a tendril of smoke to herself from the fire burning in the hearth.
It danced around her fingers as she got lost in her thoughts, and he let her be, using the time to study her until there was a knock on the door twenty minutes later.
Opening it, he found staff with the tea tray, along with Razik Greybane leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Cethin didn’t bother acknowledging him as he took the tray and thanked the staff.
Kicking the door shut behind him with his foot, he returned to the sitting room and set the tray on the low table in front of the sofa before taking a seat on the other end.
Kailia seemed to have settled some. She wasn’t trembling anymore, and her breathing had evened out.
But she was still on edge, stiff and alert.
He took his time pouring two cups of tea and sliding hers to her. “I don’t know how you take your tea,” he said, adding sugar and honey to his.
She said nothing as she reached for a lemon wedge, smoke trailing her hand. More than before, it now swirled with her ashes.
Cethin waited until she took her first sip and had set her cup back down before he said, “You were upset with me earlier. Is that why you are having trouble sleeping?”
Her head tilted as she met his gaze. “Why would you affect my sleep?”
And once again, he wasn’t sure how to respond to her.
“Because you were angry with me, and stewing in anger can cause restlessness,” he finally ventured.
Reaching for her tea again, she said, “My thoughts do not revolve around you, king, and emotions fuel carelessness.”
“Yet you were feeling many of them,” he countered, ignoring the way that small hit to his ego made him bristle inside.
She rolled her lips before setting her teacup down on the saucer and pushing back to her feet. “You know nothing of my emotions.”
“Which is why I’m trying to have a conversation about them,” he replied, standing as well. She immediately took three steps back from him, and it only made his irritation grow. “I told you we need to be convincing, tiny fiend.”
“And that requires this sort of conversation?”
“Yes,” he said, not bothering to hide his exasperation now. He took a step towards her, and before she could move back, he said sharply, “Don’t.”
To his surprise, she actually fucking listened, whether from his warning tone or the command in it, he didn’t care.
His voice was low as he caught a lock of her hair, winding it around his finger. It was the one part of her he touched as he said, “You say you have no experience with scorned or wronged lovers, but I’m beginning to suspect you have little experience with any lovers.”
“It’s just fucking,” she retorted flatly, the smoke in her eyes swirling faster once again.
“Fucking is not what I’m speaking of, Kailia.
Although, I still question your experience with that too,” he said, the words fanning across her lips as he leaned in a bit more.
“Lovers know each other intimately. They can predict each other’s reactions and understand the other’s emotions with a simple look.
They share secrets that no one else knows.
They steal glances and moments, appearing as if lost to their own world. ”
She didn’t move, and he could swear his words weren’t having any effect on her. There was no throat bobbing with a swallow. No hitched breath. No shifting on her feet or averting her gaze.
“But the physical is just as important,” he added, releasing her hair.
He let a ribbon of his darkness appear, tangling with the tendrils of smoke still lingering around her.
That was when the small gasp fell from her lips.
And fucking Fates, he hadn’t expected to feel that sound all the way down to his cock, but there it was.
Twitching behind his pants as his blood heated and something primal lifted its head in his soul.