Page 17 of Winds of Death (War of the Alliance #4)

Pip opened her mouth to reply, but footsteps sounded down the hall before Fieran’s mama Princess Elspeth strode into sight.

Princess Elspeth gave Pip a warm smile, her eyes twinkling. “Welcome to Treehaven House, Pip. I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled.”

She turned and strode back the way she’d come. The corridor was too narrow for walking side-by-side, so Pip rather reluctantly released Fieran’s hand so she could follow his mama. Fieran took up the rear, still carrying her bag for her.

The princess led all the way to the end of the hall, where the final room on the left opened into the base of the corner turret of the house. The many windows set into the walls overlooked the forested hill behind the house. A very elven view, here in Escarland.

The room itself was done in pale pinks and greens. A white four-poster bed stood along one of the few windowless walls, spread with a quilt made of floral fabrics. The drapes on the windows were pink overlaid with white lace, and the rest of the furniture was white on top of the green rugs.

It was an adorable guest room. A bit frilly and pink, but in a comforting, homey kind of way. Not the type of room Pip would have decorated for herself, and yet exactly the kind of guest room she’d love to stay in.

“Make yourself at home.” Princess Elspeth gestured around the room.

“The kitchen is at the end of the hall back the way we came. Feel free to ask if you need anything. The water closet is through the door there. Towels are on the shelves in the cabinet while there are spare toiletries as well. Help yourself. Thanks to Illyna, we always have extras.”

Fieran set Pip’s bag on the bed before he retreated into the hallway. “Once you’re settled, Pip, I’ll show you around the estate grounds. We can take the zip lines.”

“Zip lines?” Pip turned right around and headed for the doorway. It wasn’t like she had anything she really needed to unpack. She planned to just live out of her bag for the weekend.

“Supper is in an hour,” Princess Elspeth called after them as Pip hurried after Fieran.

“Got it,” Fieran called back without turning around or slowing his pace.

Pip hurried to catch up and took his hand, smiling when he clasped his fingers with hers.

Despite her worries for the squadron, her frustrations over the interrupter gear, and her nerves at meeting Fieran’s family, she was going to enjoy this perfectly lovely weekend where she could just fall in love and forget about the war for a few blissful hours.

Fieran relaxed into his seat on the couch in the parlor, his stomach filled with supper, his hand resting in the space between him and Pip.

They’d taken seats next to each other, yet they weren’t holding hands.

Nor had he dared put his arm around her shoulders.

Not with his family watching. Even Tryndar had made an appearance—drawn out by food—but he was huddled by Mama and simply stared at Pip with wide eyes.

“And then he ran smack-dab into the door. Not the flat side of the door. No, the door was open so he ran into the end and gouged his forehead on the latch.” Mama shook her head, her smile wry as she told the familiar story from Fieran’s childhood.

“I still have a faint scar from that one.” Fieran tipped his head toward Pip and pointed at his forehead. It was just a barely discernible line that looked more like a wrinkle than anything else.

Pip’s eyes scanned his forehead for a moment before she met his gaze, the look switching from mirth to something with more longing.

Mama pushed to her feet. “Come along, Tryndar. It’s time for bed.”

As if that was the signal, everyone else got to their feet and scattered. Ellie retrieved her book and mumbled something about reading in bed. Louise headed off to her own room with a stack of blueprints clutched in a bag.

Fieran rose to his feet and held out a hand to Pip. He was somewhat sore from all the zip line traveling that afternoon—annoying how something that simple now did him in—but he still had a bit of strength left in him. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Yes.” Pip hopped to her feet as if she’d been waiting all day for just that.

Together, the two of them meandered out the double doors, across the patio, and down the stairs until they reached a faint path winding between the trees.

Fieran kept his pace slow and ambling so that he didn’t make Pip run to keep up with him. Not that he could have managed a faster pace, stiff and sore as he was.

As they walked, they shared stories of growing up. The mischief. The good memories. The bad ones. All of it.

With most people, Fieran found himself talking too much. But with Pip, he rather enjoyed staying quiet as he listened to her talk.

He pointed out one of the large, rambling maple trees as they passed. “I fell out of that tree. One of the times I broke my arm.” The smile dropped from his face as the memories filled him. “Merrik tried to catch me and got dragged out of the tree after me. He broke his arm too.”

It seemed Merrik had always been trying to catch him when he fell. And always paid the price for the attempt.

Pip squeezed his hand and briefly leaned her head against his arm. “I’m sorry. Merrik forgave you for that. With time, he will forgive you for this too. Or realize that it isn’t really your fault.”

Fieran wasn’t so sure. Merrik had yet to answer any of Fieran’s letters.

Nor had he called Fieran back, even though he was healing well enough that Aunt Illyna left a few days ago to see about fitting him for a prosthetic.

Even Adry had begun to be cagey and not give him information when he talked to her on the telephone.

Anything Fieran knew about Merrik right now came secondhand through the family grapevine. It wasn’t right, but short of traveling to Estyra himself, there wasn’t anything Fieran could do.

He didn’t want to talk about Merrik. Not even with Pip.

They reached a forest glade not far from the outer wall. Here, a swing hung from one of the sturdy branches, the bench seat wide enough for two people to comfortably sit, though it was small enough to encourage cuddling.

Fieran took a seat on the bench, then tugged Pip down next to him.

She snuggled into his side, her head leaning against his shoulder, her hand still clasped in his. “This is a rather convenient swing.”

“Yes.” Fieran leaned his head against hers. “All of us kids learned quite early on not to follow when Dacha and Mama wandered in this direction. Not if we didn’t want to catch them”—he dropped his voice into a scandalized hush—“kissing.”

Pip huffed and gave his arm a light shove. “Thanks a lot. I didn’t need that image in my head.”

Fieran gave in to the urge to press a light kiss to her hair. “I was hoping the mention of kissing would be inspirational.”

“Not when you mention your parents and kissing in the same sentence.” Pip gave another grumbling huff as she lightly shoved her shoulder into him.

That might not have been his best strategic move. But now he had no choice but to plow forward. “Did you never catch your parents kissing?”

“That’s just it. Dwarves are not as retiring and proper as elves.

” Pip shook her head against his arm. “Nor do they have the same ideas of what is improper that humans do. It isn’t that dwarves lack standards.

But kissing in public—and other public displays of affection—are completely normal for dwarves.

So, yeah, I’ve seen my parents kissing way more than my elven half would like. ”

Fieran laughed softly into her hair. “Traumatizing.”

“And reassuring, I guess. We never had to wonder if our parents still liked each other.” Pip’s voice lowered, softening, as Fieran gently rocked the swing.

She had been right. He definitely didn’t want to talk about either set of their parents kissing. It was sidetracking them from the main thing. Namely, actually kissing.

By the time he and Pip finally meandered their way back to Treehaven House, pausing to kiss a few times along the way, a light shone in the parlor, and only the double doors into the parlor remained unlocked.

Fieran held Pip’s hand as he eased the door open and tiptoed inside.

Mama sat on one of the couches, a book in her lap. She glanced up as they entered before her gaze returned to her book. The slightest curve to her mouth betrayed that she knew exactly what he and Pip had been doing.

Fieran cleared his throat, his ears burning. It wasn’t like they’d crossed any lines they shouldn’t have. And they hadn’t only been kissing. There had been a lot of talking too.

He resisted the urge to glance at Pip. Her face was likely red as his was. “Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight.” Mama flipped a page in her book. “Pip, I’ll be up for a while yet, if you need anything.”

Beside Fieran, Pip bobbed her head and mumbled an unintelligible assent.

Fieran hurried from the room with Pip in his wake. He didn’t halt again until he reached the base of the stairs, where he turned to Pip.

For a moment, the two of them met each other’s gazes.

And then Fieran smothered a snort of laughter. Pip, too, pressed a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

It took several moments for the two of them to get their mirth under control. Once they did, Fieran gave Pip one last kiss before he climbed the stairs to his room and she retreated down the hall toward hers.