Page 71 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

A small, encouraging smile formed on his lips.

Energy jolted through her veins as if lightning had struck the water.

It was the most enchanted thing she’d ever seen.

It wasn’t like the polished smile she’d seen at court.

It was a genuine smile that reached his eyes.

And for the first time, the smile was because of her— for her.

It was enough to distract her from the fact she was in the lake until Roman took them deeper. She gripped him tighter, her saucer eyes shifting to the water—like it might part and swallow her whole.

“Hey,” he whispered, his dripping hand tilting her chin to look at him. “Eyes on me.”

Slowly, she dragged her gaze upward.

They were close—too close—close enough that she could see the golden flecks in his amber eyes. Judging by how deep they were, she knew she could probably stand on her own, but she was too afraid to let go, especially in the dark, with only the sky and the distant lanterns from the patio for light.

Roman’s arms tightened around her waist, and he nodded in approval. “You just keep those eyes on me,” he rumbled, the sudden rough texture of his voice sending her heart to beat at an unimaginable rate. “We’ll just get used to the water, alright?”

Rose ignored the foreign energy within herself yet again—ignored how his bare skin ignited her own. She tried to hold his gaze, but something caged deep inside her threatened to take over her limbs, urging her to move just a few inches closer…

She tore her eyes away before she embarrassed herself.

It was then she noticed scars scattered across his tanned skin.

She counted three large ones—on his shoulder, on his right side just beneath his ribs, and the new scar from the arrow laced with the Dragonshade which looked redder than the others.

She had a hunch it’d stay that way even as it healed, the poison leaving a permanent mark on him.

“How did you get this scar?” she asked, her fingers tracing the one on his shoulder.

Roman looked down at it with her. “That was a gift from a Vertmerian soldier. We were on the battlefield when I saw one of my friends on the ground, wounded. He could barely stand when I saw the soldier he’d been fighting about to take his life.

Not thinking it through, I stuck my left arm out to push him out of the way.

Instead, the axe bore into my shoulder, nearly hacking my arm off. Luckily, he failed.”

Rose cringed. “And this one?” Her fingers glided through the water to his right side.

“That I got during a storm at sea coming back from Eristan when the ship was breaking apart. I was trying to salvage it when I saw a large wave coming for us. I tried to warn the men, and they moved just in time, but I wasn’t so lucky.

The wave came over the side of the ship and slammed me into a piece of wood from the mast sticking out from the floor, if you can believe it.

” He said it like a wound like that couldn’t have easily taken his life.

Rose’s gaze went to his forearm, tracing the red scar with her fingers.

“And you know how I got that one,” he said softly, looking down at it with her.

She stared at the bright-red scar. “Do you realize you got all these scars by saving other people?” She finally looked up.

Roman paused, blinking. “I suppose you’re right… I never thought of it like that.”

She studied him, questioning if his humbleness was authentic. “Is that how you came by your nickname by your fellow soldiers?”

His eyes became guarded as he looked out at the water. “Yes. They started calling me Drengr after the battle at Clairborn.”

“What does it mean?”

He diverted his gaze, hesitant to answer.

“It’s the most respected name a soldier can be given.

It’s an old term for someone young like me who, though inexperienced with battle, is bold, recklessly courageous, and doesn’t back down in a fight.

Someone who has a sense of fair play and doesn’t fight those weaker than him. ”

“If it’s an honor, why do you look unhappy they call you that?”

Roman’s eyes fell to the water between them. “Because it’s a title I don’t believe I deserve.”

She couldn’t stand him looking so sad. She took his jaw gently in her hand, forcing his eyes to meet hers. He didn’t resist her in the slightest. “Usually, someone who says they don’t deserve something is exactly the one who deserves it.”

He didn’t say anything, simply looking back and forth between her eyes.

“If I started calling you that, would you believe it then?” she asked, challenging him.

His throat bobbed as he held her gaze steadfast. “I told you—I’ll never doubt you again.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you when you start to doubt yourself… Drengr,” she said, the name rolling off her tongue.

His body shivered against hers, his arms tightening around her waist, bringing her closer.

“Now you know how I feel when you call me Roe,” she joked.

His eyes flashed with surprise while hers filled with horror, realizing she’d said the words aloud.

“I just meant—I just mean…” All she did was make herself sound more ridiculous.

He put a finger up to her lips, stopping her. “I know what you meant,” he whispered, looking down at his thumb as he traced her bottom lip, causing something deep within her to stir.

She was set free when he dropped his hand back into the water, but as that same hand ran along her exposed thigh to hold her again, it made the desire in her turn ravenous. She wondered how his hands would feel in more sensitive places?—

Tristan’s face flashed in her mind.

“I think we should go back,” she whispered, her voice not coming out as strong as she wanted it to.

He nodded, but his hands pressed her closer as he began to trudge his way back to the staircase. “You did well,” he praised.

“It’s easy with you,” she said, realizing as she spoke the words that she truly felt that way.

Roman’s fingers gripped her waist one final time before lowering her onto the stairs.

She instantly regretted her decision to leave the water when the cold mountain air hit her wet skin. Her hands shook as she grabbed her dress off the ground with Roman close behind.

He held his hand out. “Come on.”

When she extended her own, he grabbed it and urged her along as they ran back. Roman brought her to another set of doors leading towards the back entry.

Warmer air greeted them as soon as they stepped over the threshold. She expected him to slow down, but he sped up, running with his hand still in hers. He cocked his head back to look at her as a nostalgic grin spread on his face—playfully, he tried to trip her, sticking his foot out obviously.

A game they used to play.

She returned the smile, trying to trip him back. He avoided her foot easily, earning a deep, rich laugh at her failed attempt.

The euphoric sound made her heart flutter like a hummingbird.

“You’re just as terrible at this now as you were back then,” he taunted.

And with one sentence, he unleashed her competitive side, driving her to go faster.

They raced up the main stairs, praying Gretta wouldn’t see them dripping water in their underwear. When they reached the top of the stairs, they continued to dash through the hall of windows, racing against each other, playing in the bright moonlight.

She thought he’d let up when they came to the stairwell leading to Roman’s room, but he surprised her by chasing her up the stairs—swiping at her ankles, making her laugh breathlessly.

At the top of the stairs, he attempted to trip her once more, but she shoved his shoulder, causing him to lose his balance, though he easily steadied himself with one hand. Undeterred, he snatched her ankle and successfully tripped her this time. She landed on the soft bedroom rug with a thud.

“No!” she pleaded.

A dangerous smile slipped onto Roman’s lips as he dragged her to him, his hands climbing up her legs to her thighs, landing on her waist as he pinched her sides.

Even though her skin was still wet and slippery, he held her firm, making her aware of just how easily Roman could overpower her if he wanted to, but she wasn’t worried.

She’d never be with him.

“Stop! Stop!” She laughed as she clawed for freedom. “Stop!” she pleaded.

She twisted her body and her hand accidentally hit him square in the mouth, sending him off her.

His hands flew up to cradle his jaw as he flinched away.

She sat up at once, covering her mouth. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Zareb trained you well, didn’t he?” he grumbled, still covering his face with his hand.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It was all a ploy. As soon as she reached for him, he took hold of her wrists, flipping her onto her back. He pinned her arms above her head. His beautiful pink lips dipped into a lazy smile. “It hurt a little, but not that much.”

She rolled her eyes as a grin of her own formed, her chest heaving for air.

The warm glow of the fire created dancing shadows over Roman’s sun-kissed skin, his eyes so seldom full of joy she had to stop to admire the flawless creases.

She hadn’t laughed that hard in… she couldn’t remember. It was like a medicine she desperately needed—a simple, pure moment that transported her through time to when things were easy. His body weight on hers calmed and crazed her at the same time.

Giving in to her impulse, she lifted her hand out of his grasp and slowly raised it to his sharp jaw, tracing it lightly with her fingers.

Without hesitating, Roman leaned into her hand, placing more of his body weight on her as his arms lowered into a push-up position over her.

Her back arched. Her body silently begged for more, aching for him to grind his hips against hers. To intertwine her legs with his. To dig her nails into his back and pull him closer.

She felt irresponsible for even thinking it, but her thoughts kept spiraling.

“I hope you have more fight in you by morning because that was pitiful,” Roman whispered, coaxing her as his lips hovered just above hers. “That is, unless you’d rather sleep in?”

“No, I want to,” she answered quickly, not wanting him to change his mind.

Roman paused, his gaze dropping to her lips, staring at them before he let go of her hands.

He cleared his throat, lifting himself off her. “Then we’d better get some sleep.” He reached down to help her stand, pulling her to her feet. “We’ll go at sun up before it gets too hot. Then perhaps we can cool off with a swim again.” He winked.

She sighed dramatically. “I was right. You are trying to kill me.”

He gave her a crooked grin, making her want to lay right back down on the floor with him. “It’ll be worth the result. Trust me. Get some rest… I’ll see you in the morning.”

She nodded, tucking her wet hair behind her ear, the tips soaking the rug.

“I hope you like goose feathers,” he called over his shoulder on his way out.

Once he’d left, she let out a breath. What are you doing, Rose? she scolded herself.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, trembling from the cold as she gazed at the empty room, feeling like somehow it had become vastly larger than it had been earlier.

She headed to the tub to rinse off the lake water before returning to the closet to select a nightgown.

Though there was a plethora to choose from, many of Harriet’s pajamas were short and lacy.

To her pleasant surprise, most of Roman’s clothes still hung in the closet, too.

So, of course, she took the liberty of going through them.

One white shirt in particular stood out to her.

She pulled it out and tried it on, curious to see how it’d fit.

The oversized garment fell just above her knees, the fabric butter-soft against her skin.

Out of instinct, she brought the collar to her nose, smelling it.

His musky scent filled her lungs. She decided she’d wear it to bed, seeing as it was as good as any nightdress.

After she blew out the candles, she crawled across the soft, feathered duvet and sank into the sheets. The movement sent a waft of air up into her nose—even the bed smelled like him. She laid her head on the goose-feathered pillow, cradling it as she curled up into the sheets, closing her eyes.

As the minutes passed, she feared she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. A sickening realization swept over her that this would be the first night she had slept alone since… since the wedding. She smothered any and all thoughts of Tristan until she was sure they wouldn’t be resurrected.

Instead, she thought about the day she’d just had. How, for the first time in months, she’d laughed freely. That, at last, she’d finally earned a smile from Roman—how she’d gotten into the water without returning with a traumatic experience.

She held on to those good thoughts, and for the first time in a long time, she looked forward to the days ahead.