Page 16 of Kingdoms of Tides and Twilight (A World of Sun and Shadow #2)

G rayden sighed heavily, his gaze lingering on Renya's peaceful form nestled among the furs. The weight of responsibility settled back onto his shoulders as he reluctantly tore himself away from the bedside. The sooner he announced his presence and addressed the matters at hand, the sooner he could return to her side.

As he crossed the room to the wardrobe, his mind felt clearer than it had in days. Opening the doors, his eyes caught on Renya's clothes hanging next to his own. The sight of her garments—all his mother's old things—intermingled with his brought a bittersweet smile to his face. While it touched him to see her wearing them, he made a mental note to have Doria arrange for some new clothes tailored specifically for Renya.

“And a new wardrobe,” he murmured to himself, noting how her meager collection already dominated more than half of the available space. His smile widened as he surveyed the room they would now share. It occurred to him that he hadn't actually asked Renya if she wanted to share his chambers, or if she preferred he move into hers. But after the intimacy they'd shared, the thought of sleeping apart seemed unfathomable.

She can decorate it however she likes , he thought, his mind already conjuring images of how Renya might transform the space. As long as we get that bigger bathtub.

Once dressed, Grayden returned to the bedside for one last look at Renya. She lay curled up, her face the picture of serenity. It took every ounce of his willpower not to shed his clothes and crawl back in beside her. Instead, he squared his shoulders, steeling himself for what lay ahead, and strode purposefully towards the door.

The quiet of the corridor surprised him. He had expected Doria's efforts to keep others away would have faltered by now. At the very least, someone should have noticed Damion's return to the stables. The lack of commotion suggested that Jurel, Phillippe, and Charly were still at the mountain encampment with the new recruits.

“Small mercies,” Grayden muttered. He'd only have to deal with Tumwalt and perhaps Almory for now. Selenia already knew about his bond with Renya, which would spare him at least one explanation.

As he reached the top of the stairs, a blur of motion caught his eye. Selenia came charging towards him like a stampeding elkten, her face a mix of relief and exasperation.

“Grayden!” she cried, engulfing him in a fierce embrace. “Where in the frozen hells have you been? I've been waiting for word, any word!”

Grayden returned her hug, surprised by the intensity of her concern. “I'm sorry, Selenia. I should have sent a message, but once I found Renya, everything else just...faded away.”

Selenia pulled back, her eyes narrowing. “Is she here? Is she safe?”

“Yes, she's here and she's fine,” Grayden assured her, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“Where is she? Can I see her?” Selenia's excitement was nearly contagious, her earlier irritation seemingly forgotten.

Grayden cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “She's...indisposed at the moment.”

Selenia's eyes widened in understanding before she grimaced dramatically. “Grayden! I don't need to know that!”

“I didn't say anything,” he protested, starting down the stairs with Selenia hot on his heels.

“You implied plenty,” she retorted. “I mean, I'm happy for you, truly. But maybe she could do better...As her friend, should I warn her?”

Grayden shot her a withering glare, which only seemed to fuel Selenia's amusement.

“Kidding, kidding! Not ready for mate jokes yet. Noted.” She paused, her expression growing more serious. “Tumwalt has been in a foul mood since you left.”

Grayden's own mood darkened at the mention of his advisor. “Where is he?”

“Already bored of Renya and looking for your old lover?” Selenia quipped, unable to resist one last jab.

“Selenia!” Grayden's patience was wearing thin.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Last I saw, he was heading to Almory's workshop. Though for someone who just found their fated mate—and it happens to be the girl you were already mooning over—you're surprisingly grumpy.”

Ignoring her, Grayden made his way towards the back staircase. The fact that Tumwalt was in Almory's workshop puzzled him. With the rest of the prophecy revealed by Renya's aunt, what could they be working on? He hoped they had made progress on combating the dragons, though the thought of Renya anywhere near such creatures made his stomach churn.

Reaching the workshop door, Grayden knocked perfunctorily before entering without waiting for a response. The scene that greeted him was familiar—Tumwalt and Almory hunched over a massive, dusty tome—but the atmosphere was charged with tension.

Almory's eyes, calm as ever, met Grayden's with a hint of concern. Tumwalt's, in stark contrast, flashed with barely contained anger.

“So, you've decided to return,” Tumwalt said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he folded his arms across his chest.

Grayden's confusion at Tumwalt's hostility quickly gave way to irritation. “Of course I came back. Why wouldn't I?”

“Perhaps because you've now abandoned your people and your lands twice to chase after a girl?” Tumwalt's words were sharp, cutting.

“Tumwalt,” Almory cautioned, “let's hear him out.”

“I am not a child to be scolded,” Grayden growled, already regretting his decision to leave Renya's side.

“Then stop acting like a spoiled child,” Tumwalt shot back. “You don't have the luxury of abandoning your kingdom for a woman.”

As Almory tried to intervene, Grayden's gaze swept the room, landing on something that made his blood run cold. There, on Almory's desk, sat a hairbrush with an aspen handle. Strands of golden hair—Renya's hair—were caught in its bristles.

Fury unlike anything Grayden had ever known surged through him. “What is the meaning of this?” he thundered, every muscle in his body coiled tight. “Why do you have her hairbrush?”

Almory looked guilty, but it was Tumwalt who answered, his voice hard. “We had to do something. It was obvious that girl bewitched you somehow. I tasked Almory with tracking down whatever magic she used.”

“That girl is my mate!” Grayden roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

The silence that followed was deafening. Almory's face lit up with sudden understanding, while Tumwalt stood slack-jawed, his face flushing crimson.

Grayden strode forward, snatching the brush from the desk. “How dare you accuse Renya of bewitching me,” he snarled, turning to leave.

Tumwalt's voice, now hesitant, stopped him at the door. “My lord, I...I'm sorry. It wasn't like you to abandon your duties for some human girl—”

“Her name is Renya,” Grayden cut him off, his voice dangerously low. “And she will be your queen. I suggest you start addressing her with the respect she deserves.”

As Tumwalt gaped at him, Grayden continued, his anger giving way to a cold, regal authority. “For the record, not that I owe you an explanation, Renya is the light bringer. She possesses her full magic now. We need her to defeat the Shadow Queen.”

He watched as the implications of his words sank in, Tumwalt's eyes widening in shock.

“Moreover, she's a descendant of the Sun Realm. A princess in her own right. And she's fae, not human. How else could we be bound?” Grayden's voice softened slightly, a note of wonder creeping in as he spoke of their bond. “But even if she were human, I would demand she be treated with the same respect you show me. Although at this moment, your respect and allegiance are very much in question.”

With that, Grayden turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder as he left, “I'm returning to my mate. Do not disturb us under any circumstances. I don't wish to see you for the rest of the day.”

As he stormed back up the stairs, his mind reeling from the confrontation, Selenia intercepted him once more.

“What happened down there?” she demanded, her face tense with concern.

Grayden recounted the encounter, his anger flaring anew as he spoke. When he finished, Selenia shook her head in disbelief.

“Well, he knows she's your mate now. I'm pretty sure the whole lodge heard that particular declaration.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “No need for formal announcements, I'd wager.”

Despite his lingering frustration, Grayden felt a smile tugging at his lips. “What am I going to do about him, Selenia?”

His sister's expression softened. “It's hard for him, I'm sure. He was always close with Father. But Grayden,” she continued, her voice uncharacteristically serious, “you aren't Father, and that's not a bad thing. Even if I don't say it often because I think you're dreadfully dull and take yourself far too seriously...you are a good ruler.”

Grayden felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. “Insults aside, thank you, Selenia.”

“Don't expect to hear it again,” she warned, though her smile belied her stern tone.

As they reached Grayden's chamber door, Selenia's excitement returned full force. “So, when do I get to see Renya? Surely you can pull yourself away long enough to let her eat?”

Grayden chuckled, his earlier anger dissipating in the face of his sister's enthusiasm. “Yes, we'll see you at dinner,” he promised, stepping back into the sanctuary of his room where Renya awaited.

As the door closed behind him, Grayden leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The confrontations had left him drained, but as his eyes fell on Renya's sleeping form, a sense of peace washed over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.