Chapter 21 Cethin
Cethin
He straightened from a stretch with a muffled groan.
Sleeping in that godsdamn chair was getting old.
There was no way to get comfortable, and he was still sore from the stabbings and the broken ribs.
The external wounds had healed, not even scars left behind.
Bones always took a little longer. Add in the delayed healing, and it was taking days longer.
Kailia emerged from the bathing chamber, her feet light as she moved, always with a predatory grace.
Fallon had brought her spare clothing yesterday, which she had immediately changed into.
Loose linen pants sat low enough on her hips that they didn’t aggravate the wound, while the tunic was cut short, exposing her midriff.
“We need to change that,” Cethin said with a nod to the bandage wrapped around her middle.
She nodded, coming closer. They’d done this three times now, and each time her hesitation appeared to lessen a fraction.
She was still tense the entire time, but instead of closing her eyes tightly until it was over, she watched him.
He never acknowledged it. Gods, if he did, he was certain she’d retreat right back into herself and her defenses would return.
But he was also trying to be smart with their time away from Aimonway.
Here, it was just them. And Jarek, Fallon, Razik, and Wren because no one was leaving the king and future queen alone after two attacks in less than a day.
He was used to people constantly milling around though, and for the most part, they were treating these chambers like his private floor at the castle.
Sending his magic first, like he always did, he dipped his fingers into the bandage where it was secured, tugging it free.
They’d started doing it this way rather than cutting the bandage away like before.
She liked to be up and moving around, and this allowed her to get used to being so close to someone.
To him. And he was absolutely taking advantage of every moment.
This close, he could feel her body heat.
He could smell the lavender and honey scented soap she’d just used with a cloth since a fully submerged bath wasn’t an option until late tomorrow.
As he maneuvered the bandage and unwrapped it from her torso, stray strands of hair, loose from her braid, fluttered against his skin, and this time, as he passed the bandage to his other hand, he let his arm brush against hers.
It was feather-light, hardly a touch at all, but he still watched her stiffen.
Watched her fight the urge to jolt back.
Watched her fingers flex and move, searching for a dagger that wasn’t strapped to her thigh.
Felt her breath of relief when he stepped back, giving her space while he retrieved the pot of herbal paste.
He’d never been more aware of his movements and the space he took up until she’d snuck into his life cloaked in smoke and ashes.
Making his way back to her, she was sliding the blue crystal at her throat along the cord. Back and forth. Back and forth. She stopped when she noticed him watching the movement, letting the thing settle again, just above her breasts, and instead shaking out her hands a little.
Lowering to a crouch before her, he dipped the flat stick into the paste, smoothing it along her deeply tanned skin as he said, “I need to discuss something with you.”
She was already preternaturally still as he worked, watching him, but she somehow went even more tense. Her muscles were coiled tight, and a faint trace of ashes vibrated around her, making him pause what he was doing so they didn’t get caught in the paste.
His gaze flicked to hers. “We have conversations all the time, Kailia.”
“Yes, but when a person starts a conversation like that, it never leads anywhere good,” she said.
“Do you have a lot of experience with conversations like that?” he asked casually, tending to his task once more when her ashes faded. Her wound was also almost healed. Only a slightly raised and faint pink line remained.
There was a pause before she answered, “No, but I’ve observed many.”
“So you are a busybody, then? Eavesdropping on other people’s conversations?”
“No,” she argued. “I… No, I’m not a busybody.”
The way she said it, with such conviction and resoluteness, had him fighting a smile, but she was still watching him intently, so of course she saw it.
“You find this amusing?” she asked.
“I do,” he agreed, setting the pot aside and reaching for the fresh dressing.
“Why?”
“Because I am teasing you, Kailia. Nothing more,” he answered, pressing the dressing to the wound. “Hold this, please.”
Her fingers brushed his as she took over, and that one simple point of contact had his thoughts going places they shouldn’t. Wondering what those callused fingers would be like brushing along his arm. How her fingertips would feel dancing across his lips. How’d they feel other—
Fuck, he needed to get his shit together.
It’d been a long time since he’d satisfied those needs.
The last time he’d fucked, his title had been prince, not king.
It had become too complicated to bring anyone to his bed in the beginning, so he’d handled matters himself.
Weeks had turned into months, and months into a year.
Now, for reasons he’d long stopped trying to figure out, the one person he’d even consider couldn’t stand to be touched.
And yes, he’d asked himself if that was the appeal.
Was it some sick and twisted subconscious challenge?
But that couldn’t be it. He hadn’t known about her aversion to touch when he’d met her at the Esbat Festival.
If anything, she had some opinions of him he didn’t understand, and he couldn’t figure out why it mattered to him at all.
Why he cared that some female from across the sea thought he was the worst the realms had to offer.
And why was she going along with any of this to begin with?
Maybe in the end, it was a morbid curiosity about how far he could push her.
How far could he take any of this? Maybe the challenge was to figure her out.
All of it a distraction from the mundane.
A way to turn this fucked up situation into something more intriguing.
Perhaps that was just as dark and twisted, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He wrapped her torso without conscious thought, going through the motions, not realizing he was finished until he was tucking the edge of the bandage into place.
Kailia lightly cleared her throat, stepping back and putting space between them. “What did we need to discuss then?”
“I have a proposal,” he said, the words lacking his usual confidence as he tried to get his thoughts back in order.
“I already agreed to that,” she said, wandering to the balcony door.
He quickly moved past her, seeing where she was headed. Pulling the door open for her, he followed her out.
It wasn’t a large balcony by any means. It held a small round table and two chairs, and an onyx railing ran along the edge of a raised stone wall one story off the ground.
Kailia moved there, her hands gripping the rail as she looked out over Shira Forest. Cethin took a seat at the table, his fingers drumming once atop the iron surface.
It was his turn to clear his throat. “That’s not the proposal I’m referring to. I mean, it is, but not—”
He stopped, frustrated with himself for fumbling over his words, and she’d turned to study him again.
She did that all the time, and he understood why.
She was studying him as much as he was studying her.
Gathering information and tells. He’d teased her about being a busybody, knowing she watched people from her power, but they were one and the same. She just didn’t realize it yet.
“Can you tell me anything about the attack?” he asked, switching tactics. “Anything that would help us figure out who they were? Or why they did this?”
Leaning against the railing now, she said, “I thought some of the others went to see if they could identify them?”
“They did,” he replied. “I’m still waiting on a final report, but if they’d found anything useful, we would have heard by now. Which means I need any information that you can recall.”
“This is the proposal?”
“No. This is what is leading to the proposal,” he said, rubbing at his temple in an effort to assuage his irritation.
She fell quiet, and he watched as she sifted through memories and debated what to say.
He wanted to encourage her to simply tell him everything.
Every errant thought that was flitting through her mind, but she was too calculated.
A blessing and a curse really. Something she’d need as queen, but something that was currently fucking him over greatly.
“I don’t know that they said anything,” she finally answered. “I was… When I—” Her lips thinned, gaze darting to the side before she turned back to the railing once more.
Cethin stood, moving to her side. Propping his forearms on the cold rail, he clasped his hands, staring out at the horizon too. Not touching her and giving her space. Her fingers gripped the railing tighter.
“You were surviving,” he finally said. “Your focus was on survival, nothing else. It’s okay.”
She glanced at him sidelong. “What would you know of surviving, king?”
He flashed her a grim smile. “You don’t live for centuries without having to simply survive at times.”
“You grew up in luxury.”
“I grew up with expectations and responsibilities,” he countered. “Things I was forced to carry because of the luxury and titles.”
She hummed, clearly not convinced.
“But you’ve known a different kind of survival,” he continued. “And I… No one should have that kind of life, Kailia. Which brings me to my proposal. I’d like to move the union up. For your safety.”
She turned to him, the smoke in her eyes drifting like a slow fog. “My safety?”