Текст книги "Bound to the shadow prince"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Текущая страница: 39 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

Chapter

Eighty-Four

One Week Later

Nemeth is a terrible patient.

I glare down at my mate from my spot over his bed, my hands on my hips. “I am going to grab the nearest chamberpot and pummel you over the head with it if you don’t lie back down right this instant, you absolutely infuriating Fellian.”

He ignores my scowl, trying to push himself up on his feet. “I can’t lie in bed all day long, Candra. There’s too much to be done.”

“Let someone healthy do it, you rock-brain,” I tell him, planting my hands on his chest and giving him a not-so-subtle nudge back into bed. “You’re still recovering from the plague. Your rash has just now healed. Do I need to cover you with another poultice of herbs and onion plaster?”

Nemeth makes a hideous face at that, but he doesn’t try to get out of bed again. “If you come near me with more of that plaster, I am going to scream, Candra.”

“And I am going to scream if you try to get out of bed,” I reply tartly. “So much screaming.” I give his shoulder another nudge and this time he goes down without complaint, relaxing in the bed once more. I pull the sheets up to his chest and beam, pleased. “That’s better.”

“You are an absolutely impossible woman.”

“I really am. Please don’t tell me that you’re surprised by this.” I tuck the blankets tighter around his legs, ignoring his grumbling. “You should count yourself lucky that you have my undivided attention. Fancy lords have given trunks full of jewels for less⁠—”

Nemeth grabs my hand and pulls me down onto the bed next to him. I tumble onto the blankets, my breasts pressed against his side, and let out a squeak of surprise.

“That’s better. Now you’re quiet.” His arm slides around my waist, pinning me in place.

I poke him on his chest. “Very funny. Let me up.”

He shakes his head, gazing down at me thoughtfully. “You look tired, milettahn. I worry about you.”

“I’m fine,” I protest, though I am exhausted. The constant blood draws are taking their toll on me. Maybe I can lie here next to him for a moment. I close my eyes, snuggling against his broad chest. “It’s nice to be able to touch you without you smelling like onions.”

“Those damned poultices of yours.”

“Not mine, Riza’s. And they worked, so you hush.” I’m just so happy that he’s getting better by the day. Every time I see him and his eyes are open, shining bright with impatience to be out of bed, my world feels a little more right. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better. Annoyed that my fragile wife is exhausting herself trying to take care of everyone.” His hand goes to my belly, caressing the bulge of it. “Glad that our child is well.”

“Your child is dancing upon my bladder,” I retort, rolling onto my back a bit so he can rub my belly with ease. “He is more than well. And I’m not exhausting myself. Riza’s keeping a close eye on me. It’s just that the blood draws take a lot out of me. What would you have me do, tell those that are sick that no, I just don’t feel like giving them a portion of my blood today?”

Nemeth makes an unhappy growl in his throat. “Just because I know it is necessary doesn’t mean I like it.” He rubs the curve of my belly. “How is the plague?”

“No new infections today,” I tell him, my eyes fluttering closed. It’s nice to just lie here next to him for a moment and not think about the day. There’s so much to be done and so many to talk to that need advice that I fall into bed every night utterly drained, but we’re making such progress that I can’t be annoyed. “Sixteenth House hasn’t lost anyone, so we’re hopeful that they’ve passed through the worst of it.”

“Good. How is your sister?”

I lick my lips, because I’m not sure how to answer that. “She’s fine.”

Erynne is both good and bad. She’s still filled with an understandable hatred for the Fellians for destroying Lios and murdering her son, but she’s finally acknowledging that this was the work of Ivornath and Ajaxi and that most Fellians simply want to live in peace. Even so, I worry that Darkfell is going to be hard for her. That being here is going to remind her of everything she’s lost.

Last night was a changing point, though. A Fellian woman had approached as my sister and I went over plans for where to put more stairs. The woman had a baby in her arms and handed her to Erynne. It took me a moment to realize that the baby was human.

And when I saw Erynne’s face, I realized it was tiny Ravendor being returned to her mother. For the first time, I saw my sister break down and weep, clutching her baby tightly. Some of the hardness disappeared from her eyes, and I know this morning she’s visiting with the Fellian wet-nurse that was watching over the baby to make plans, as Erynne’s milk has dried up.

It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. I saw my sister smile this morning, and there was no malice in it, nothing but pure joy.

“She’s fine,” I say to Nemeth again, and I mean it.

My bored, bed-ridden mate presses for more details. “And Tolian? Anything new to report?”

“Not since he was in here to see you this morning. Give the man a chance.” And I poke Nemeth again. He says he doesn’t want to be in charge, but he’s taken to it quite well. He’s got a caring heart, which means he’s truly invested in both the Fellians and the Liosians settling in and making a home out of the ruins of our two kingdoms. “I will say that your idea for the transport is brilliant. We just need the Fellians to come around.”

“They’ll come around once the plague slows more.” He pats my stomach. “And when they get tired of building stairs. I’ll be the first volunteer.”

“I hope you’re right.” I put my hand over his, smiling. There’s definitely been a lot of stair building and some grumbling. Right now, Tolian and Second House are leading the charge to make Darkfell more human-accessible. We’re meeting a bit of resistance because of the plague and the fear that humans are the ones infecting Fellians, so it’s natural to keep the two apart for a bit. Nemeth had the brilliant idea of having Fellians volunteer to fly humans back and forth in exchange for pay (or food), but it’s a work in progress.

We’ll get there. We need the Fellians to no longer be in fear of the plague, and the Liosians to no longer be in fear of being enslaved. It won’t happen overnight, but it’ll happen.

“What about the fishing?” Nemeth prompts. “Some of the human women were going to try fishing?”

“It’s coming along,” I tell him with a yawn, being deliberately vague.

“I could head out to the bay with them, supervise⁠—”

“No,” I say firmly.

“—I won’t overtax myself. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll sit the entire time,” he continues. “I’ve read several treatises on the best fishing methods in rainy seasons and⁠—”

“No.”

“—I can be of assistance. Candra, why are you so stubborn?”

“Because you almost died,” I retort. “You’re not getting out of this bed until I’m convinced you’re healthy enough.”

He chuckles. “So you need convincing? Why didn’t you say so?”

And his hand slides under my skirts.

I suck in a breath, opening my eyes to look up at him.

“It’s been a while,” he says, his hand playing on my thigh. “Tell me if this is something you don’t want, and I’ll understand.”

Not want? Is he mad? “Why would I not want this?”

“Because it’s me. Because Fellians are responsible for so many wrongs that have been done to your people. Because you put your trust in me and I broke that trust.”

I cover his hand with mine and move it directly between my thighs. “You’re my husband and my mate. And Lios lost the war, true, but it’s a war that we started, so I cannot say we’re blameless. As for trust, you were willing to abandon your people to go to Lios with me. Whatever your brother demanded you do in the tower, did you do it because you wanted to destroy me or because you loved me and you wanted me?”

“I loved you. Loved you from the moment I saw you in your bath.”

“Then there is your answer. Just because Ivornath commanded it doesn’t mean that it was what you wanted. I can’t think of how many times Erynne bade me to kill you⁠—”

“What?” Nemeth draws back, startled.

Oops. Did I not mention that? I pat his hand. “We can talk about that later. Are you going to touch your mate or not?”

With a frustrated growl, he leans in and nips at my ear, sending a shiver through my body. “You and I are going to talk about that later. For now, open your pretty thighs for me.”

I thought he’d never ask. Sighing, I do as he commands. His hand is under my skirt, hidden from view, but I don’t need to see his actions. I tilt my face toward his and he rubs his nose against mine. In bed, we’re close to the same height, which makes the nuzzling possible (and delightful).

“My beautiful Candra.” Nemeth’s fingers sweep over the mound of my pussy, stroking my curls. “It’s been far too long since I’ve touched you.”

“Yes it has,” I agree, closing my eyes. He’ll find no argument here.

His lips brush over my cheek, even as his fingers slide through my rapidly dampening folds and caress me. “You’re not wearing undergarments.”

“I’m not,” I agree. “They’re a chore with a big belly, so I go without.”

“I like this. I think you should go without all the time. Then you can just be ready for your mate’s touch at any moment.” One finger brushes against my clit, even as his teeth graze my jaw. “I like knowing that you’re ready to take my knot. But this pussy needs to be much, much wetter.”

I whimper with agreement.

The breath hisses from my throat when he strokes through my slick folds again. He works his finger up and down my cleft, dipping into my core and then moving back up to my clit to circle it slowly. I arch against his touch, all the while Nemeth murmurs filthy things in my ear.

“I bet you can’t wait for me to stretch you with my knot again,” he says. “Do you need it? Do you ache inside to feel me locked inside you, giving you so much cock that your body has to work to take it all? Is that what you like?”

“Yes,” I moan. “Gods, yes, Nemeth. Please. I need you so badly.”

He teases a finger inside me again, his thumb rubbing my clit as he fucks me with his hand. I cling to him as he works me to a climax, coming hard and fast. My big Fellian holds me tightly as my legs tremble and my pussy clenches with the force of my release, and he nuzzles my cheek as I come down again. “My perfect, sweet mate. My milettahn. I love you so much.”

I lift my chin so he can kiss me, and our lips brush. A drowsy contented feeling drifts through my body, and when he pulls his hand away to lick his fingers, I roll onto my side and gaze up at him. His warm gray coloring is still a bit paler than I’d prefer, and his cheekbones are more prominent as he’s lost weight from his sickness, but I love the sight of him. I love knowing that he’s mine and that he’s coming back to health.

I also love the hard length pressing against my lower leg, reminding me that he hasn’t enjoyed his own release. “How would you feel about staying abed a bit longer?” I ask, my hand playing on his bare chest.

Nemeth guesses my game immediately. “What sort of enticement do I get?”

“A wife that pins you to the mattress and has her way with you…and your knot?”

His teeth flash in a wicked grin. “You’re fascinated with my knot.”

“I really am. Is that a no, then?”

He chuckles, his hand going to my thigh to grip it. “My darling Candra, for you, it is always and forevermore a yes.”

Excellent answer.

Epilogue

Months Later

“My lady, if you don’t get back in bed this instant, I am going to tell your husband,” Riza says when she encounters me in the hall.

It’s the same argument she gives me every time she sees me out of bed. I’d swear that no one had ever had a baby before me with the way Riza’s been fussing. And sure, my little Bodahn was a large baby with an oversized head and teeny tiny wings curled around himself, but we both sailed through the birth easily. “Then get the cart, Riza, because if I’m not allowed to walk on my own, someone had better pull me along.”

She grumbles as she moves to my side, trying to offer an arm for support. I shoo her away. Riza thinks that I’m fragile and made of glass.

“I’m heading to the throne room anyhow. Bodahn needs to be fed. You can come with me if you like.”

Riza sighs as if I’m being difficult, then licks her finger and smooths out a lock of my hair by my temple. “If you’re heading to the throne room, let me get you a better robe. This one has wrinkles. Wait here.”

“What, do you think I’m going to start sprinting the moment you turn your back?” It’s only been a few days since I gave birth. Walking around is difficult enough.

She swats my arm and heads down the hall. I continue toward the throne room, my steps slow and steady. She’ll catch up with me anyhow. As I walk through the halls of the palace, I pass by the women and Fellians working on construction. We’re expanding the lower floors so the palace can be accessed by all that need to, and the upper rooms will only be used as storage. Everything’s a mess right now, but with all the reconstructing of the city, it gives people a focus and something to do. We’re making this a place for both human and Fellian, where no one feels like an interloper.

At least, that’s my hope.

I get to the end of the hall and eye the stairs. That sure seems like a lot of walking. Turning to the nearest Fellian, I pull out a freshly minted coin. “Can I persuade you to carry me down to the bottom floor instead of making a poor tired female that’s recently given birth walk on her own?”

He rolls his eyes but snatches the coin from my hand. “Come with me.”

“Wait, my lady,” Riza screeches, running down the hall behind me. “Your robe!”

A short time later, I’m wearing the new (and far fussier) robe, Riza at my side. My Fellian companion took a coin for Riza’s ride as well and then went back to work. I’m pleased that the coins seem to be working. Fellians get coins for giving people rides, and humans harvest the food from the fields (or cook, or build stairs, or fishing) and receive coins from Fellians for their work. So far, so good.

I move into the main hall, a bright smile on my face to hide my exhaustion (when did this hall get so far away?) and head toward the dais. On one of the twin thrones at the front of the room, my mate Nemeth sits, a bored expression on his face and our baby in his arms. He rocks the fussy child against his chest, trying to soothe him, and looks relieved when I appear. “Our son is hungry.”

“I noticed.” My breasts have been leaking ever since I woke up from my nap. I take Bodahn from his father and sit in the throne next to him. Riza immediately moves to my side, settling a blanket over my shoulder as I loosen the front of my robe and tuck Bodahn’s head inside so he can nurse. The moment he latches, I relax in my chair and eye the room. “Busy today.”

Nemeth grunts, his gaze affectionate as he regards me. “More weather reports. Still raining outside, though I suppose that’s not a surprise.”

It’s not. “It won’t stop raining until the goddess leaves the skies again.”

“You missed all the fun,” Nemeth tells me. “There was a scholar here earlier, from the Alabaster Citadel. He had an outrageous theory for the weather. You should have heard it.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. He said—listen to this—that it’s not the goddess’s wrath bringing the foul weather at all. That it’s caused by the moon in the skies. That the presence of another heavenly body changes the tides and the weather patterns, and that’s why it’s such chaos.” Nemeth snorts. “Pure dragon shite.”

I blink at my husband. “You sound just like me.”

“You’re a wise woman.” He takes my hand in his and leans over it, kissing my knuckles. “Is it so wrong that I listen to you?”

“Not in the slightest. Please, continue to praise me and my wisdom. It’s vastly flattering.”

He gives me a roguish grin and rubs my hand, then turns back to the waiting audience. I see smiles on a great deal of faces. They like Nemeth as a king, because not only is he First House, but he’s also a good listener. He’s willing to entertain new ideas and to try new things…unless they’re about the weather, of course. My presence as his Liosian (and Vestalin) wife eases human tensions, and I make sure everyone sees Nemeth with our sweet baby regularly. No one can be intimidated by a king who has a shoulder covered in milky drool and desperately trying to jiggle a baby back to sleep.

The throne room has become part of our routine lately. We eat dinners with everyone that comes to visit us, I feed Bodahn out in the open, and Nemeth and I are affectionate with each other in front of everyone. It’s a huge change from my sister’s icy politeness at Lionel’s side, or Ivornath’s secrecy. I want everyone to feel like they are part of our family, because in a way, they are. We’re starting over, all of us. For the next few years, while we wait for the goddess’s wrath to die away, we’ll live here in Darkfell, where the weather won’t soak us out of house and home.

And after that, perhaps we’ll spread out. Perhaps we’ll stay here under the mountain. As long as there’s peace, I don’t mind.

I stroke Bodahn’s fuzzy head. Unlike Nemeth, he’s got my dark hair and no horns. He does have his father’s wings and tiny tail, about which I tease Nemeth mercilessly. We’ve already started talking about what another child between us would look like, and if it’s a girl, I want to name her Iphigenia, after my nurse. She would have loved Bodahn.

“You’re just in time,” Nemeth murmurs to me. “We’ve had human refugees arrive.”

“Oh?” I sit up with interest, scanning the throne room for unfamiliar faces. The newcomers are obvious to see, their clothing soaked and muddy, their forms thin and emaciated, and they look exhausted. My heart wrenches at the sight of them. Maybe I’ve become soft ever since giving birth, but I know how hard it is outside, how difficult a struggle to find food. I want them to know they’re welcome here.

I open my mouth to speak just as the first one steps forward and lowers his wet hood.

And I gasp. “I know you!”

The man stares at me in horror. I do know him. It’s one of the men that kidnapped me. The one that left when his companions were going to murder me. The one that stole my knife and took off.

I even remember his name. “You’re Jarvo, aye?”

He cringes, bowing his head. “My…my lady. I am.”

“You know this man?” Nemeth asks, practically bristling from his throne with fierce protectiveness.

“I do. He was one of the ones that robbed us when we were on our way to Lios.” The room gets quiet, and Jarvo cringes even lower. He’s thinner than I recall, his eyes hollow, and instead of anger, I feel nothing but pity. “It was difficult out there with nothing to eat, wasn’t it? How did you manage?”

He looks at me in surprise, then glances at Nemeth. “I-I-I found kind strangers. They took me in and shared their supplies until they were gone.”

I glance at the people behind him. “Are they with you now?”

“Aye.” He gestures at an elderly couple with him. They have lined faces and white hair, their clothing ragged, but they don’t look terrified for their lives, just exhausted.

Bodahn makes an unhappy noise at my breast and I switch him to the other side, where he grizzles and latches once more. I stroke his tiny head, thinking about the past. I know what it’s like to feel that food insecurity, and I know what it will drive people toward. “Was he a good friend to you?” I ask the older couple. “No robbing or stealing?”

They shake their heads and the woman speaks up. “Jarvo has been like a son to us. There were days we had nothing to eat and he would share the fish he caught. He would hunt down ravens so we could have something to eat. We would have died without him.”

I glance back at Jarvo. He still looks defeated, as if fate has decreed his death. “Well, you are all welcome here. Someone in Second House will assist you with getting settled and explain the rules of our city. All we ask is that you treat both Fellian and Liosian kindly. There are no more wars. We are a city of survivors now, and there is no difference between us. Understand?”

“Yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady,” Jarvo stammers, dropping to his knees on the floor. He catches himself, and then his head jerks upright. “Oh! I have your blade!”

“My blade?” I echo, though I know exactly what he means.

Sure enough, he pulls out the enchanted dagger that Erynne gave me so long ago. The one that is enchanted to give answers. The one that I relied upon so heavily once upon a time. It looks the same, small and benign, with a few jewels in the hilt.

I debate its presence for a moment. With it, I could ask questions about the future. I could suss out enemies before they strike. I could predict everything before it happens…and base every decision off of its answers.

But I’m tired of living in fear of what the future could bring. I look at my handsome husband, who sits upon a throne. I hold my child, my best friend standing behind me. Somewhere in our city is my sister with her daughter, and a thousand other faces that have become friends in the last few months.

I’m no longer cursed. If anything, I’m the luckiest Vestalin ever. So I smile at Jarvo and shake my head. “You keep it. I’m good.”