Page 44 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter forty-one

Aethan

The return trip is uneventful. After an early start, we make good time, and the group rides into the courtyard as the high-tide sun peaks in a clear sky. I dismount, and my feet land on cold, sturdy stone. Home.

The castle rises in its rustic glory, beckoning me into its embrace. Nothing has changed, not here. Guppies chase the birds beneath the sapwood trees. The adults in the courtyard avoid looking directly at me as they peer in curiosity at our spoils.

My subjects seem happy enough. No fresh signs of mourning. No atmosphere of panic.

And the hunt was a roaring success, thanks to Nahla’s skill with magic. I couldn’t have imagined a better outcome. A sleigh brimming with fresh game, happy hunters, and Nahla in my furs two nights in a row.

Somehow, Goddess Audrina decided to shine her favor on me. And her favor looks a lot like a Brine Princess laughing in the firelight, cradling my head in her lap.

Nahla stayed with me last night. It wasn’t a dream. When I woke, she was still there, curled into my side. No sex. Just cuddling. Pure trust.

Fuck. What do I do with that? I could visit her tonight.

We could sit next to the fire with a pile of furs.

She could read while I run my fingers through her hair, letting the silky strands pass through my hands again and again until we lull to sleep.

I’ll make sure it wasn’t a onetime stroke of luck.

“Ready?” I hold out my hand to help Nahla dismount. But she’s already out of the saddle, stroking the snowbear’s chin. Her hat sits lopsided on her head, exposing an ear to the cold. She doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“You be good, okay?” she coos to the snowbear, ignoring me.

She’s good with animals, I’ll admit. The cranky mount has taken a liking to the princess. It pushes its snout into her hand, snuffling as it searches for treats. Nahla laughs and tucks a bit of jerky between its fuzzy lips.

My chest tightens, and I look away. Would she still like me—as him ? I hope so. It’s only a matter of time before she finds out. And then what?

“Come. I’ll walk you inside,” I say, before the dark thoughts can creep in.

She looks up and smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Depends on where you’re taking me.”

“Your room, of course.”

Her face falls. “Of course,” she echoes.

The joy of the hunt is crumbling already, like ice into a frothing sea.

She rearranges her expression into a blank slate. Is she unhappy with me? Tired from the journey? I should get her inside, where it’s warm and comfortable. Deirdre can brew a pot of tea, or hot chocolate. Females fucking love chocolate.

“Come on, then,” I grunt.

She pats the snowbear one last time, then follows me out of the stables. Our snowleathers crunch on the snow, the only sound between us.

Has she had hot chocolate before? Suddenly, I’m overcome with the need to see her nose-deep in a mug of cocoa, milk froth clinging to her mouth. I glance at her lips as hunger churns my stomach.

Nahla keeps her gaze on the ground, her mouth set in a firm line, following me wordlessly. The sooner we get that hot chocolate, the better. Something is bothering her; that much, I can tell. My hand flexes at my side, straining toward her. Will she recoil if I hold her hand?

Probably.

I ball it into a fist instead.

When we reach the castle, the captain greets us with a quiet salute and opens the door.

“Ah, there you are, love!” Deirdre exclaims, hurrying to meet us. She skips me completely, rushing to snare Nahla in a motherly inspection. “Let’s get you warm.”

Nahla brightens as the housekeeper fusses over her, removes her tattered cloak, and presses a hot cup of tea in her hands.

“Good to see you too, Deirdre,” I grumble, removing my cloak.

The housekeeper shoots me a sassy look and dips her head. “Sire, I only have so many hands.”

Nahla lifts her cup and takes a long, seductive sip. Her lips part around the porcelain with the promise of something more.

Amusement tightens my eyes. “Go ahead and get her warm.”

“Hold the door, Captain!” Lucas’s voice rasps behind me, with the sound of crunching snow. The healer rushes inside on a gust of wind, dusts the snow from his cloak, and stomps his feet on the rug.

The princess glances over her shoulder as Deirdre guides her down the hall, away from me. I nod at her, reassuring. The hot chocolate can wait, then. We’ll have some with dinner.

“A successful hunt!” exclaims Lucas.

I sigh, dragging my gaze away from Nahla’s retreating form. “Indeed.”

The healer claps the captain on the shoulder, pulling him inside. “Captain, I hope your days without us were uneventful. No certain… casualties.”

The captain glances my way, a careful strain in his gaze, and my heart leaps into my throat. I swallow it. Bad news, then.

So why do I feel relief?

Dizziness prickles the edge of my vision. I prop my hand on the wall to steady myself. If my subjects are dead without me, it means I’m not the perpetrator, after all.

Could it be true?

I glance up, magnetized to the sight of Nahla several paces away. Her curls lay frizzy over her shoulders, spilling down her back, that hat still ridiculously askew. Hope flares, hot and dangerous.

She’s safe with me.

I don’t have to protect her from myself, only an exterior force—a monster out there is easier to subdue.

Nahla looks over her shoulder, and her gaze bores to the back of my head. Scales stand on my neck as an intense wave of curiosity washes through my mind. Interest. Irritation. The feelings are foreign and feminine, originating outside myself.

I frown, trying and failing to wrench my gaze from her face. The corner of her mouth lifts, just so.

Is this feeling… hers ?

“Sire?” the captain prods. “Should I wait on the report?”

Nahla turns away, finally, and follows Deirdre. With each step she takes, the strange feelings lessen. Her hips twitch with the confidence of a female up to no good.

“Now is fine,” I snap at the captain.

“It’s good news, Your Majesty. There have been no killings since four days past, you’ll be pleased to know.”

My stomach flips. I squeeze my eyes shut. Every muscle in my body strings taut.

Fuck.

The wall tips closer as my body sags against it, my weight suddenly too heavy to bear.

No killings can only mean one thing: I am to blame—for everything. No one can die if you take the villain away.

I inhale, drawing the breath through the length of my body, as the familiar rage burns. I should have seen it coming. Shouldn’t have let myself hope.

Lucas’s hand clamps on my shoulder, steadying and firm. “Your Majesty? This is excellent news.”

“Yes.” I force my reply through clenched teeth. “Thank you, Captain. Let’s hope the good streak continues.”

Nothing has changed. I am a liability, a risk to my kingdom, and there’s nothing I can do but return to my cage.

***

“How did it go, Your Majesty?” Deirdre asks. She stands in my bedroom doorway, propping the door open with her hip. On the other hip, she balances a basket full of my clean laundry. My housekeeper doesn’t wait for my answer before she pushes into the room, making quick strides toward my wardrobe.

The light of my new sight-pool fades as I disconnect the spell. All is as it should be, just as the captain said.

Fuck.

“An excellent hunt.” I force a grin, standing to intercept her. “Thank you.”

We’ve been home for a few hours, and I’m already spiraling. Gone is the lightness in my chest, the blissful ignorance of the hunt.

Deirdre’s eyes narrow as I take the laundry basket from her.

“That’s great,” she says. She watches as I lift the first crisp shirt from the pile and hang it in my wardrobe. My fingers fumble with the buttons, fastening them lopsided.

I don’t give a fuck. I need something to do with my hands. They tighten around the fabric, wrinkling the linen.

“Are you okay, Sire?” Deirdre asks. “That’s my job.”

“Hm?”

She takes the shirt from me and unfastens the buttons, adjusts the hem, and buttons it the right way. “You’re in a mood.”

“It was a good hunt.”

“Lots of game, I heard.” She cocks an eyebrow. “And the hunters seemed pleased by your Brine spy. She’s got quite the gift. Useful.”

Her words are bait, dangling on a line. Tempting me into gossip. I fold a pair of pants against my chest, creasing every fold with precision. “Yes. Useful.”

“Are you planning to keep her around a while?”

I clench my jaw and work hard to keep my expression neutral. With great effort, I clear my throat. “Not sure.”

“Well, it’d be a shame to keep someone so useful locked in the guestroom forever.” Her ulterior motive. I should have guessed this visit wasn’t about laundry.

“My intentions for the princess are none of your concern, Deirdre,” I snap.

“Your Majesty, if I may be so bold?”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” I snatch the last shirt and stuff a hanger inside the shoulders.

Her lips twitch in a small smile. “You’re harboring a foreign princess. Eventually, the truth will come out, regardless of your intentions .”

“You want me to let her go.”

She says nothing, only lifts the empty basket to its place on her hip.

“We could feed the kingdom in half the time, with her leading the hunt. How could I let her go, when she’s such an asset to the kingdom?”

“Is that all she is to you? A tool to wield for the greater good?”

My ears burn. “I’m not…”

“At least give her the choice, Sire. She might surprise you.”

“And if she leaves me? I could never bear it, Deirdre. I—”

“Shh, shh.” Deirdre holds up a finger. “This conversation is between you and Nahla. Dinner’s in an hour. You can tell her then.”

She pushes through the door and takes a step into the hallway. My stomach sinks as she leaves. Deirdre has always had my best interest in mind, and whether I like to hear it, she’s never wrong.

The door is almost closed when I call out her name. She turns, cocking an eyebrow.

I smile, an apology of sorts. “Speaking of dinner, I’d like to serve hot chocolate tonight.”

“An excellent idea, Sire.” She winks.