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None took it nor disputed her words.

Grateful, knowing already the Gate’s reopening played a part in her decision, something inside me stirred as I looked at Nerys. Knowing she was scared to claim the role of queen and rule a kingdom, as anyone in her position would be, and yet spoke with such assuredness and conviction…

Dammit, Rowan.

I knew better than to fall in love with an immortal. Every human knew better and guarded their hearts against it. And yet, I’d done it anyway.

24

NERYS

I approached Rowan, who sat at the entrance of the alcove, but Marek was nowhere to be found. Wading through knee-deep water, I stretched out my arm and bent back fingers that had begun to cramp after so many hours.

After the meeting when it was decided Rowan and I would remain as far from the palace as often as possible from now until the festival, Marek had joined us, training with me for a spell. He was between voyages, and with the Festival of Tides approaching, none were imminent as all of Thalassaria halted for the twice-a-year festivities.

“Where is Marek?” I asked.

“He apparently had an ‘assignation.’ His word, not my own.”

“He is incorrigible.”

Rowan approached, holding out his hand. “Let me help.”

He took my hand, the first time we’d touched since last eve. Massaging one finger at a time, he gave no hint of the man who had elicited from me more calls for his name than I could count. Until he was finished with my fingers and moved to my palm, rubbing circles which became increasingly slow and methodic, the exhaustion I’d felt moments earlier left my body completely.

“This is so very dangerous,” I said, my mind warring between knowing that fact and not caring if it were true or not.

Rowan dropped our joined hands to the side, closing the gap between us.

“Why?”

My heart raced as he peered into my eyes for an answer I was certain he knew already.

“Because this is no assignation.”

“No,” he said, leaning into me. “It is not.”

When our lips touched, it was as though they were meant to fit together. One moment, we engaged in a simple kiss at the end of a long day of training. The next, our kiss deepened and Rowan’s hands held my head in place, as if I needed a reminder to stay put.

There was nowhere on Elydor I wanted to be more than on this beach with him. And that was the problem. Instead of admitting it, or moving away, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling Rowan closer to me.

If we could have remained that way all eve, I’d have been glad for it. But as the sun began to set, it occurred to me Rowan hadn’t eaten since Aneri had served us fresh fish before we’d left her house. I needed sustenance, as did all immortals, but Rowan needed more.

“You’ve not eaten,” I said, reluctantly pulling back.

“If you’re asking me to choose between standing here with you or a meal, I choose the former,” he said, brushing my hair to the side and kissing the skin at my collarbone. Then lower, he kissed, his tongue taunting. I moved my hands to his backside and let them roam, no longer caring about sustenance.

In truth, I did about guarding my heart, and that was still necessary. Even so, I could not, would not, stop him.

“Shall we stay here and forgo a meal at The Moonlit Current?”

At the reminder of our plans, Rowan asking earlier if we could return, he lifted his head.

“As much as I would enjoy that, perhaps we should finish this later?”

There was something about his tone that piqued my interest. A lack of casualness that was so characteristic of Rowan. With a reluctant sigh, he stepped back and took my hand, and I cursed whatever madness had possessed me to remind him about the tavern.

As before, we walked along the shoreline, Rowan asking about my training methods. Once, when a sound behind us revealed nothing more than a startled seabird, when his hand moved to the hilt of a non-existent sword, I apologized again.