Page 27 of Mountains of Mist and Magic (A World of Sun and Shadow #4)
G rayden's boots scuffed against the stone floor as he traced endless circles around the desk in their bedchamber. His fingers twitched, longing for a task, any task, to occupy his restless mind. Renya had been down in the recesses of the palace, locked away with Cyrus, Agatha, Libera, and even Cressida. Together they had spent the last three days researching. At first Grayden joined, but due to his lack of powers and little knowledge of their origins, he had little to contribute. He had tried to assist where he could, but he felt more and more like a nuisance than a help. So instead, he had camped out in their room, writing letters to Tumwalt to make sure their lands were running smoothly. But now that was complete, and he found himself staring into the fire, with absolutely no clue what to do with himself.
A knock on the door drew him away from the fire, and he walked over and opened it. Phillippe was on the other side of the door, his jaw thick with scruff. He looked unkempt; his tunic was wrinkled as if he'd slept in it.
“What's going on, Phillippe?”
“Want to go clash some metal?”
Grayden's face instantly lit up. “Yes, thank the Gods. I was just considering learning how to knit so I could contribute something to my family.”
It took him only seconds to find his blades and follow Phillippe out of the palace and into the courtyard.
“Do you know a place where we can train where no one will bother us?” Phillippe asked.
“Actually, I do.” Grayden walked down one path that led away from the palace and into a small garden surrounded by large hedges.
“This is nice.”
“Renya and I stumbled upon it by chance—she feels weird being—intimate—in her father's house.”
Phillippe grimaced, and Grayden realized he had over-shared.
“What are you going to do when you move here permanently?”
Grayden frowned, his forehead wrinkling. He hadn't considered it.
“Maybe we'll build our own wing. It doesn't help that our room shares a wall with her father's.”
“I wish my female problems were that simple.” Phillippe pulled out his broadsword and nodded towards Grayden. Grayden withdrew his own sword but didn't make a move.
“So that's why you wanted to spar. What's going on? You could have just told me you wanted to talk.”
Phillippe groaned. “You know talking isn't my strong point. I guess that's one of my problems.”
Grayden stared. “Something going on with Esmeralda?”
Phillippe ran his hand along his jaw. “You could say that.”
“I could tell that she was irritated yesterday at you pushing Triston about his history.”
“I followed her to her bedroom afterwards, and she accused me of not being serious about her. She said she'd heard the rumors about me being, well, rather—”
“Generous with your attention to women?” Grayden supplied.
“Well...yes. And she seemed to imply that the fact that I hadn't...you know...with her...meant that I didn't care.”
Grayden replaced his sword, knowing that it wasn't really swordplay that Phillippe sought now, but rather a brother's advice.
“First of all, I'm shocked to learn that you haven't had her yet.”
“To be honest, Grayden, I don't know how I've resisted. I'm not like you. I need a woman more than I need food or air. I can hardly sleep without it...but with Esmeralda...”
“She's special?” Grayden guessed.
“Yes. And I don't want to mess it up. We even spent the night together, but I didn't touch her. I thought she would understand that me not...seducing her meant that she was special. But apparently not. To make matters worse, I think she overheard a conversation between Sion and me and misunderstood.”
Grayden sat on a wicker chair placed by one of the hedges, enjoying the slight breeze that wafted through the garden. “Have you told her how you feel?”
“I thought I had. I thought she understood.”
“If you don't want to lose her, you're going to have to try again. Get her alone and tell her how you feel. Have you told her you love her?”
Phillippe kicked at the dust on the ground, creating a small floating cloud. “No.”
“Do you? Love her?”
“I think I do.”
Grayden sighed. “You're going to have to do better than that. If you tell her you think you might love her, you might as well be digging your own grave.”
“Why does it have to be so complicated?”
“I don't know, Brother. But sadly, it is.”
“I guess I need to talk to her.”
“That would be my next move.”
Grayden, sensing that the real purpose of their meeting was over, got up from the chair and started to walk back towards the courtyard.
“Oh, by the way. She said something odd.” Phillippe hurried to catch up with Grayden.
“Esmeralda?”
“Yeah. She said that Triston and Julietta...were an item.”
“Triston? And Julietta?” Grayden couldn't imagine an odder pairing.
“Yes, I found it strange too.”
“Perhaps she was mistaken.”
“Can you talk to him?” Phillippe asked. “Should we even stick our nose in it?”
“Absolutely not. But...that doesn't mean we can't find out.” Grayden said, raising an eyebrow.
“How?”
“Simple. I'll mention it to Renya. She'll get to the bottom of it.”
Phillippe laughed. “Well played, Brother.”
By the time Grayden returned to their room, Renya was already behind the desk, studying a large, dusty book. Her hair was pulled back into a messy braid, and she had a smudge of ink on her cheek. It took her a few seconds to look up as he entered the room.
“Oh, hey.”
“I've never understood this 'hay' greeting of yours,” he said, circling the desk and standing behind her.
“What would you prefer?” she said, tilting her head to look back at him.
“A kiss.”
Renya rose from the desk, giving him a quick peck. He wanted more, but he took what she offered greedily.
“I have a question for you.”
She'd already settled back down at the desk, quill in hand. “What is it?”
“Phillippe said that Esmeralda alluded to something...strange last night.”
“Really? What was that?”
“She seems to think that Julietta and Triston...are...a couple.”
Renya's eyes met his. “I wondered! Their exchange at dinner was so odd. Did you see the way he looked at her?”
“No,” he admitted. “I only look at you.”
Grayden knew their conversation about Triston and Julietta was far from over, but he couldn't help it as he moved behind her again.
In an instant, his lips met hers, and he kissed her, falling into their own rhythm naturally. But when he reached down to pick her up and move her to the bed, she broke their kiss.
“Not now, honey.” She turned her head back to the book.
Grayden ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the window where the sun still hung stubbornly above the horizon. He crossed to the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight as he sat, far too alert for sleep yet with nothing to fill the hours stretching before him. But he still removed his boots, tossing them on the floor with a loud thud. Renya looked up from her book, raising her eyebrows, but she didn't respond. She went back to her reading, and Grayden pulled his shirt off, throwing it near the desk. It crumpled on the floor, and he could see the slight movement of Renya's eyes as they landed on his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Renya finally pushed the book aside.
“Nothing,” Grayden responded innocently, undoing the ties on his trousers, and then letting them fall down his hips.
Renya smiled. “I think you're trying to seduce me.”
“Is it working?”
She pretended to think, while Grayden stepped out of his pants. Within seconds he was on his knees in front of her, pushing up her silk peach tunic and kissing her protruding belly. It was just slightly rounded, and Grayden loved to press his lips against it, feeling the evidence of their love. This child that was made all because he loved Renya, and she loved him. He hadn't given a lot of thought to babies, even when he met Renya, but now it was nearly all he could think about. He wasn't sure if it was manly, but he didn't care.
He couldn't wait to meet his child.
Renya sighed deeply, and Grayden grinned against her skin. He knew he could convince her. He lifted her under her arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I guess we need to make time for this, too.”
Grayden set her down on the bed, hovering over her. “We absolutely do.”