Chapter 33 Kailia
Kailia
This night had been exactly what she’d expected it to be but also everything she hadn’t.
The great hall was loud with people talking over one another, laughter, and music. More than once she found herself wishing she could escape in the smoke drifting from the sconces, but only when dancing with someone other than Cethin.
She’d danced with Tybalt, the Commander stiff but kind as he guided her around the dance floor.
She’d also danced with Jarek, Zayan, and one of the advisory lords, but after each one, she’d found her way back to Cethin, his dark and icy magic erasing the burns left behind from the touch of others.
Thankfully, food had been announced, and now she sat at the head table with Cethin at her side.
Using her fork, she cut off a slice of cake, dragging it through the raspberry drizzle she couldn’t get enough of. It was almost as good as the rolls with cinnamon. And the spiced cakes they often had at dinner. And the peach cobbler with dollops of thick cream.
Cethin shifted beside her, his hand on the table right next to her plate.
He was speaking to someone on his other side, but she was acutely aware of his every movement.
She was also acutely aware he hadn’t touched her since they’d sat at the table to eat.
More than that, she was acutely aware that it bothered her, and that she couldn’t understand.
She couldn’t understand how she’d started anticipating his touch.
No.
She’d started anticipating the brush of his magic because that meant his touch was coming.
A touch she wanted.
Not once in her nearly three centuries of life could she remember wanting to be touched. She tolerated touches. Suffered through them. At times, she lashed out when they were unexpected, but she’d never wanted.
She hadn’t wanted to believe him—that he could make touch pleasurable—but here she was, wondering what else he could do. He used touch to tease her. Entice her. Irritate her.
But he also used it to distract her. Coax her. Help her.
And sometimes, she could swear he couldn’t help it. As if he’d go mad if he didn’t wrap her hair around his finger or brush his arm against hers.
It was all so…confusing.
“You are quiet, wife.”
The soft words in her ear made stray hair flutter, and she jolted a little. Then she frowned. She was never taken by surprise. Ever. She always calculated every move. Tracked all the bodies. Knew the powers in the room. The quickest exits.
Her face must have betrayed her displeasure—which was another issue in and of itself—because Cethin had a look of concern when he asked, “What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat, getting herself back under control. “Nothing is wrong,” she replied, setting down her fork and moving her hands to her lap.
“You look upset,” he pushed.
“This is simply…a lot,” she replied, deciding that was the simplest way to answer.
“I know it is,” he said, his smile soft. “But you’re doing so well.”
Something inside her went molten at those words, and gods. That was yet another thing she didn’t understand or want to look at too closely. None of this had been part of the plan when she’d come here. Agreed to all this.
“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked, the words still low and quiet, meant just for her. To those looking on, this simply appeared to be an intimate conversation between a new husband and wife. Because they needed to be convincing. That was all this was. A show for his people.
The idea both comforted her and made her shift in her ornate chair. Who needed a chair this ostentatious?
“Kailia?” Cethin asked, the crease in his brow deepening. “Are you sure you are all right? Did something happen?”
“No,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Nothing happened.”
“Then what—”
“Ready for that dance, Lia?”
She looked up, finding Razik standing in front of them. Cethin was trying to tamper down his glare. It took a few seconds, but he managed to get his features twisted into something almost pleasant.
“We’re having a private conversation,” Cethin replied tightly.
“I’m aware. I’ve been watching. My job and all,” Razik replied blandly. “But Lord Tovan is about to come over here and interrupt for a dance, and he’s not on the approved list. I figured I’d save everyone from that awkward moment.”
Cethin glanced over, and Kailia followed his gaze, where the lord was indeed watching them, clearly waiting for an opening.
“I can dance,” Kailia said, stacking her mental defenses and reminding herself not to stab anyone. It was why she’d opted for the smaller knife rather than her dagger. If she did stab anyone, it wouldn’t be as bad. In theory.
She stood, and Cethin did the same, pulling her chair back for her. Getting out from behind the table with the train and layers of dress was a feat. The dress had been better than she’d expected though. It left her room to move and access her knife.
Facing Razik, she took his hand, resting her other on his shoulder.
All the time at the dance studio in the last week had made her comfortable enough to touch him.
Not like Cethin, but in a way that she wasn’t questioning his intentions.
They’d both made it clear where they stood on things, and that was refreshing.
Clear and simple terms. Guard and queen.
Maybe something bordering on friends? He didn’t coddle her and wasn’t afraid to say things bluntly, and she appreciated that.
“Are you doing okay?” Razik asked, guiding her through the steps like he’d done countless times these last days. In the end, it had been more about getting her used to being touched than practicing the actual dance steps.
“Fine enough,” she answered, reminding herself to smile.
“These aren’t my favorite things either,” he said. “They just come with the position.”
“You are always in attendance at events like this?”
“Usually on duty, but yes. Since I was a child. My father was close with Cethin’s parents, so I was forced to spend time with them and him,” he answered, twirling her out and pulling her back.
“I asked Cethin. About the two of you. Like you told me to,” she said, watching his features carefully, but in true fashion, he gave away nothing.
“Great,” he replied. “Then you can stop bothering me about it.”
She frowned slightly. “He told me Tybalt is your uncle.”
That had his jaw clenching. “He’s my father in every way that means anything.”
“But do you know your parents?”
“This is not the place, Lia,” he gritted out. “And even if it were, I wouldn’t discuss it.”
“I’m prying.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, his fingers flexing on her waist.
“I apologize.”
He sighed. “You don’t need to. It is simply not something I discuss or dwell on.”
“You definitely dwell on it, but I can understand not wishing to discuss it.”
“I do not dwell on it,” he grumbled. She shrugged, and that seemed to irritate him more. “I don’t dwell on it,” he growled again.
“You certainly let it have control over you.”
“Enough, Lia,” he snarled.
“Sorry,” she murmured. They danced for another few moments in silence, before she said, “Can I ask you something?”
“The gods know I can’t stop you.”
She sent him a bland look, but before she could ask her question, the song ended, and Razik was releasing her.
“I’ll help you get back to Cethin,” he said, stepping closer while keeping others back.
They’d made it a handful of steps when someone intercepted them.
“Your Majesty,” the male greeted, bowing deeply.
It took a minute before she recognized him. The pitch black hair and grey eyes. Warm skin like her own. The new lord, Corveth Astor. She wasn’t used to seeing him in such formal clothing.
“Congratulations again on your union,” he said as he straightened.
“Thank you, Lord Astor,” she replied with a small smile. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
“Very much so,” he answered, his hands clasped behind his back. “It has been wonderful to see the two of you together. I hear that is rare.”
“Cethin is rather busy, and I’m still learning,” she admitted. “So we cherish the quiet moments.”
The lord’s smile was a knowing one. “I can’t say I blame you. It’s important to nurture that relationship.”
“Speaking of,” Razik interrupted. “I was in the process of escorting her Majesty back to her husband.”
“Of course,” the lord said. “I wasn’t looking for a dance or to take any of your time. Only to offer congratulations on your union and new title. As a new lord myself, I understand still trying to get your feet under you. I apologize if I overstepped.”
“Not at all,” Kailia said. “I look forward to more conversations in the future, Lord Astor.”
“Please call me Corveth,” he said with another bow of his head while Razik urged her forward.
“He seems pleasant,” she mused, Razik ensuring the crowd gave her ample room.
“They all do at events like this,” he replied gruffly. “Pay more attention to how they act behind closed doors than in the public.”
That seemed like sound advice.
“Where is Wren?” she asked, feeling the disadvantage of her height. Normally she was watching these events in the air, drifting among smoke and ashes. Down here, she felt as though she were being swallowed by the crowd despite Razik’s efforts.
“She was dancing with Bram the last I saw,” he replied tightly.
“How does that work? If she’s with him, and you two are—”
“She’s not with him,” Razik interjected.
“Are you sure? Because it seems as though—”
That was when the first scream rang out.
A female scream that had them all whirling to the sound. Murmurs and panic immediately set off in the crowd as everyone tried to figure out what was happening.
Razik was already close, but somehow Jarek and Fallon materialized by her too.
“Who is stupid enough to pull something during the king’s Union Celebration?” Jarek growled, keen gaze scanning the room.
But that was not the question Kailia was asking. She was wondering if it was a who or a what, because the answer to that was going to make all the difference.