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Chapter twenty-nine

Nerys

A wave of comfort—if one could find the familiar smell of skunk comforting—washed over Nerys as Vine’s shadow moved towards them in the woods.

Nerys couldn’t bring herself to look at him with her stone eyes.

Not when he was already gruesome to look at, and certainly not after he finished snacking on whatever…

that thing was. Could all demons kill each other like that?

Vine seemed to be rather powerful for a demon, though Vine also seemed prone to demonic posturing.

At least he was on her side. Probably. Maybe.

Doubtful. She made a note to ask Qiana about demon hierarchy, what Vine’s place in their world might be.

Though, Qiana would probably want to discuss what had sent the Kor’yitz storming back to the palace, instead of providing Nerys with nuggets of demon lore.

She had no choice—she had to learn more about demons. Fina and Idris prepared her for court, but they didn’t prepare her for the sight, and it was quickly becoming more than she could handle. What if something else attacked her?

The rooms she shared with Qiana were empty when she returned, allowing Nerys to throw herself into her decadent brocade-covered bed and fall promptly to sleep. She’d worry about the R?ll, the Kor’yitz, and everything else after she managed to get some sleep. For once.

As such, it was late afternoon when Nerys woke, due to the sound of her doorknob rattling like a mouse caught in a glass jar. “Come back later,” Nerys growled, shoving a pillow over her head. Damn servants, needing to bustle about at the worst times.

“My lady, you whilst regret sending me-est away, very much so,” a light masculine voice said.

Nerys pushed herself up. No one spoke like that. No one. Unless…

She rushed to the door, opened it, and found Idris. His face was still disguised, his body wrapped in the livery and wig of some nobleman’s servant. Servant? Wasn’t he supposed to be a groom in the stables ?

“Idris,” Nerys hissed, checking that they were alone before tugging him inside. The sitting room was empty—how? Where were Qiana’s maids? “What are you doing? I was going to find you—”

“And ruin this?” Idris’s face transformed back to normal, with his brilliant, golden hair now sticking out from under his wig.

“I can sneak up here. But a noble woman running down to the stables looking for a servant—” Idris’s expression was overcome with mock horror and he slapped his cheek. “Whatever would the gossips say?”

“You’re insufferable.”

Idris grinned, setting off his sparkling eyes. Nerys’s heart pounded. Gods…he was… “Yet you still wanted to find me,” he said.

“How did you know about that?” Nerys narrowed her eyes. She wanted to do a lot more than find him.

“Lucky guess. Now, the important question is why?”

“I…um…” Her mouth parted slightly and her heart raced.

The movement did not go unnoticed as his eyes dropped to her lips. “Miss me that much?” He stepped closer. Nerys did not back away. With him, here, she forgot all else.

“No. Not at all.”

“I think you’re lying.” He took another step. There was something different about him—assertive. Even here, in the palace, he smelled like cloves. Her heart thrummed harder. He was in her room. They were alone. In her room.

“Is that so?” Nerys asked, with faux cockiness.

“I think you were thinking about me.”

“Never.”

“Wanting me.”

No. Yes. She did. Didn’t she? But what was happening?

It was so sudden, wasn’t it? Yes, they teased and flirted, but it hadn’t been more than that…

right? But then, the manor was gone. Fina was gone.

All the rules and roles from her courtly training were cast aside, when he was the instructor and her their naive pupil.

Did he feel free to act now, far from the judgment of the one person who definitely wasn’t happy about him wanting her? Or was it something else?

“Wait, why are you here?”

This was a dream—it had to be. How many times had she imagined this moment? Idris, here, stepping closer to her, looking at her like —

“Maybe because I couldn’t stop thinking about doing this.” Idris reached for Nerys and pulled her towards him. A gasp escaped her mouth as his fingers gripped her arms, his strength commanding her.

This was happening.

He paused, looked at her for just a moment, and kissed her.

No, devoured her—and she melted into him.

His fingers lifted to caress her neck and his lips soon followed, touching every bare inch of skin he could reach, sending sparks of pleasure through her, igniting a part of her that had been ignored for too long.

And then his hands went searching for more. Always more.

It was better than she imagined. He felt better than she had imagined. Strong. Hard. The touch of him banished every thought of the R?ll, Vine, Adelyna, everything that had consumed all moments since she had come to court. There was only him.

As it should be. Until she held him, she didn’t realize how much she had missed him, everything about him. And how every encounter between them would be these sudden, stolen moments until her task was done.

Nerys’s knees trembled, yet she pulled him towards her bed, tugging off that ridiculous jacket, that stupid wig. She wanted to see all of him. Craved all of him. What did tomorrow matter? She had the now, and she was able to have Idris.

He wanted her. He did. And he risked himself to come to see her.

Frantic, they tugged at each other’s laces as they fell on the bed, and soon their limbs were entwined in a sea of fabric.

“You’re perfect,” Idris said, tracing a finger down her bare chest, a trail of goosebumps following in his wake.

“Maybe I should have rouged my nipples after all.”

Idris laughed. “Don’t you dare. I want you just as you are.

” He reached for her and pulled her on top of him, rolling on his back.

Oh, he was gorgeous—smooth skin and muscle, marred by a finger’s-length scar on his upper chest—there was not enough time to explore.

She touched the scar gently, imagining how he happened to acquire it.

Cefin was a boy compared to Idris, in more ways than one.

Wait.

What were they doing? What was this?

Nerys froze, her hand in the middle of undoing the laces on his breeches.

“What’s wrong?” Idris asked, his hands still on her clothed hips .

She could keep going. She wanted to keep going. Yet…her scorned heart could not let her be so na?ve a second time.

“It’s just…us,” she choked out. “What are we doing? We can’t ever be anything to each other.”

“Too late for that,” Idris muttered, pulling her down once more and kissing her. “You’re already everything to me.”

“You’re a prince,” Nerys whispered between kisses. “I’m nothing.”

“Once you succeed here you won’t be ‘nothing,’ and you’re not ‘nothing’ now.”

What a sweet lie.

“A mere minor noble in Cerdoran,” Nerys said, “is not a fitting consort for a prince. Even I know this. No matter what, I will have to watch you marry another.” The words came out in something between a whisper and a sob.

She was still Nerys the peasant—that was all she would be.

Idris wasn’t Cefin, but he would abandon her all the same, whether he wanted to or not.

Idris broke away from the kiss and looked at her, using one finger to remove a tear from her cheek, his expression tender. “Let me worry about that,” he said softly. “I promise—if you still want to be with me when this is done, I will do what it takes to make you happy. You are the one I want.”

Nerys nodded and rested her face on his chest. Under the cloves, he smelled like the stables, hay, and horses.

She smiled—her prince in the stables. Idris’s hand roamed her back, reaching ever lower with each stroke.

No—she couldn’t let this go any further.

Not tonight. She needed to think. She had wanted to see him for other reasons, before…

this . As horrible as interrupting this was, she had to.

“Idris, I need to tell you something.”

Idris’s hand stopped. The last remnants of their earlier passion evaporated in an instant at her tone. “What is it?”

“The Kor’yitz knows I have the sight.” Nerys told him what happened to them in the woods, all while Idris’s expression darkened.

“Qiana assured me that she’d keep you out of court politics,” Idris said.

“This wasn’t Qiana’s fault.”

“Even so.” Idris rubbed his eyes and groaned.

He was back to their purpose, like they should have been from the start.

Nerys had to focus on killing the R?ll and then getting out of court alive.

Her relationship with Idris, and all its complications, would have to come later.

Unfortunately. If only she had it in her to give herself to mindless pleasure …

“What now?” Nerys asked. “I can’t expect her to keep this to herself.”

“True enough.” Idris rubbed his chin. “The only thing to do is use this. The Kor’yitz trusts you. Use that to get yourself closer to the R?ll.” For a moment, an excited glint entered Idris’s eyes, gone in an instant before Nerys could decipher what it meant.

“I’ll try, Idris. I want to be done with this as soon as possible.”

“You will.” Idris looked her over, making Nerys blush.

“There is no way that he’ll be able to resist you, once he sees you.

” Idris glanced at the clock on Nerys’s nightstand.

“Shit—I did not expect this to happen.” 165 He stood and dressed, pulling on that ridiculous livery and wig once more.

“I had better go before your servants return.”

“Will you be able to come back?” Nerys asked, feeling cold where his body had warmed her. Empty.

“Of course, I’ll come back.” Idris hesitated and then bent down to give her one last, long kiss. Her lips burned where his had been. “It may be a bit, but I will come again. Stay safe, Callidora ” ?Idris smirked? “And I promise, you will have all of me, for as long as you want me.”