Page 20 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge
"When we get to the inn, I’ll be playing a character, so I won’t speak the way you expect, or even act the way you expect. I don’t want to startle you."
Gently, he grasped Elspeth’s hand closest to his and tucked it into his elbow. She squeezed gently and nodded to him.
They broke from the trees near the edge of town and skirted through a series of alleyways until they entered the main thoroughfare. Elspeth squeezed his arm again, this time firmer, and he could feel the rest of her body shaking at his side.
Pulling her to the side of the street so wheeled vehicles could pass by, he pointed in the distance, as if showing her something and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You don’t need to worry, no one is going to bother you when you’re with me."
He smiled down at her, and when she looked up at him with those eyes thatseemed to hold a million colors—brown and gold and green and orange, gray and black—so complex and deep he could drown in them, he felt the truth of it in his soul.
He was, for all intents and purposes, an officer of the imperial army. His mere presence would intimidate. But at a deeper level, she was safe because somewhere deep within, he knew that he would fight until the very end to protect her. Being separated was likely to cause him physical pain. He would have never chosen this bond for himself, but as it settled into him, he wondered if it might actually be good for him.
The plan was still to break it if possible, but if it wasn’t, perhaps it wasn’t the end of the world…
There was something so right about the way her fingers felt wrapped around his bicep.
Elspeth hesitated when he opened the door, and he nudged her along with a hand on her back. It felt right there, anchoring. In a room of people who didn’t know him, or knew a fabricated version of him, that one touch meant to stabilize her, had instead done so to him.
The inn was dark even in the late afternoon. The large windows at the front were obscured with years of smoke, giving the room a dim orange tint. Lanterns and several largechandeliers provided what other light there was.
They’d come during a transition time, it seemed, as the common room was less full than he’d seen it in the past. The familiar innkeeper waited behind the bar, waving at him as they entered. Aegir left his hand on Elspeth’s lower back, steering her among the tables.
All around them, short horns stuck out of curly hair in a warm range of colors. Deep, burnished gold, warm reds, and coppery browns surrounded them. The fauns of Psetra were boisterous people, and the sound of music twined through the room.2 When they approached the bar, the jovial innkeeper clapped Aegir on the shoulder.
"How goes the path Alwin?" the proprietor asked. He wore a loose shirt and vest, and flowing pants that would reveal his hooved feet if he came out from behind the bar. There were so many ways that the Empire had imposed its rule, and the clothing and the innkeepers greeting were only two of the more visible ways.
"The path is ever winding, but I remain stalwart." As everyone in the town knew him as an elf, Aegir gave one of their stock esoteric answers. "I require lodging for the nightand two meals. If you could arrange a more private table, I would be much obliged."
"Of course, I know Trina will be glad to see you. Feel free to take that table there in the corner, and we’ll get you fixed right up."
To her credit, Elspeth didn’t say anything until they’d arrived at their table.
"Only one room,Alwin?" she asked, her voice shrill.
"Hush, we’re trying not to draw attention. And you are either my wife or my pet, depending on how closely people look. I’ve never had anyone unwilling in my bed, and I’m not going to start now. You’ve nothing to fear with me."
"Well, I certainly hope you don’t think that you’re sleeping in bed with me," she hissed.
"Oh, that’s all right, sweetie," cut in the saccharine voice of Trina. "He always knows that he’s welcome in my bed. If you’re too stubborn or dumb to let him into yours, I’m happy to take your leavings. What will it be your honor?"
Aegir didn’t blame the waitress for her assumption; on all of his previous visits, they had spent lovely times together.
"As you can see, Trina, dear, my new bride and I are still settling in. She’s stillgetting used to the idea of married couples sleeping together when away from home." He nodded his head graciously and reached across the table to squeeze Elspeth’s hand in a way that he hoped looked fond. "We’ll take two glasses of red and two servings of whatever deliciousness Mrs. Engel has whipped up today.”
Trina’s eyes roamed across Elspeth’s cloaked figure, distaste twisting her mouth. "Tonight, we’ve got homemade sausages with her fresh veg and pickles," she answered, turning her full attention back to Aegir.
"A-actually," Elspeth interrupted. "No pickles for me please."
With her attention still focused entirely upon Aegir, Trina nodded. "Of course, and you just let me know if you need anything else." She winked and turned to go, her hips swaying, likely more than strictly necessary.
"Wife?" Elspeth hissed.
"Unless you were lying to me," he whispered back. "To your people we’re as good as married. High elves would never let a lady travel alone, so unless you want to start calling me daddy and masquerading as my daughter, wife will cause the least questions."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, and Aegir hated how that dismissal made his cock twitch. "If you have friends everywhere, like you do here, it might be anextremely unlikely story indeed. If my estimation is correct, you’ve likely got special friends littered all over the continent, and I don’t enjoy being instantly disliked on principle."
Frowning, Aegir considered. He’d never given thought to it really, never had any reason to. He supposed it would be an uncomfortable scenario.
"I’m sorry," he said. "I admit I hadn’t thought of that. If you’d like, we can discuss what you’d rather do this evening."