Page 99 of Winds of Ruin
“That I wanked myself in front of you like a teenager outside of a brothel window.”
She choked on a laugh. “I don’t know what you mean. That is not what I experienced at all.”
“That’s really it? You’ll just pretend this never happened?”
Her brow furrowed in mock confusion as she rested her head on her palm. I tried not to notice where the throw bunched and her breasts pressed together. “What never happened?”
“Elsedora,” I pleaded.
“You get adorably flustered,” she teased. “Stop worrying. I’m no stranger to carnal attraction between friends.”
My stomach dropped. My mood sobered, and I searched her stare.
“Thatis why I cannot be your tryst, Elsedora. As confusing and exciting as whatever that just was,Idon’t do such things with friends. You mean too much to me.”
She grimaced. “I’ve honestly never felt so cared for and rejected in the same breath.” I’d hurt her, and that sinking feeling made my guilt spike.
Reaching out, I took her hand and squeezed it. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
“It takes two. But, again, this doesn’t need to mean what you think it does.” Her cheeks reddened. “We can continue the night as though nothing happened. I will stay on better behavior from here on. I promise.”
I didn’t crave her on better behavior, but I couldn’t have only part of her either. So I agreed, “I think that’s for the best.”
Her mischievous smile returned. “Then, clean up your mess and find a clean tunic because I cannot look atall of thatand behave myself. I’m going to mull more wine.”
I laughed as she shamelessly stood fully nude and pulled on her breeches first. I averted my gaze—finally making a correct decision. After tossing on her tunic, she marched out of the room with our mugs.
When she returned, I’d retrieved a new tunic and folded the quilts I’d sullied. For the rest of the evening, we stuck to safe topics of conversation and sat with a healthy distance between us. It felt natural again, and I breathed easier knowing that what I’d let unfold hadn’t lost me her esteem.
When she finally went up to bed, I settled in on the parlor sofa. My feet hung over the armrest, but at least the plush cushioned leather beneath me wasn’t a bed. I shivered to think about getting back in one.
The vision of El’s head thrown back and the memory of her satisfied sounds wouldn’t leave my mind. I stared at the ceiling, trying my hardest to will them away. I could hear her footsteps above me as she got into bed, which did nothing to settle the feeling.
I lay there, fighting sleep for as long as I could, terrified that if I slipped into slumber, I might not wake to greet her in the morning. However awkward that encounter might be, I looked forward to it.
Chapter 40
Larkspur
Whispering a Phynnic memory charm, I passed the guards at the iron gates to Luz Palace. They nodded a greeting, but they would not remember my leaving.
Once again, none of my loved ones noticed as I slipped out of the palace. Mama was busying herself making preparations for Emmerick’s and my travels to the other capitals. We were to leave the next day.
Papa was in the Sahlms since Hurley had been called away suddenly… by me. To Hurley’s inevitable dismay, my admission the night prior wouldn’t be the last shock I dealt my cousin.
When I’d sent him a message by hawk earlier this afternoon, I hadn’t explained. I’d only told him where to meet me and to come alone and tell no one.
Pulling my dark blue cloak hood up, I walked through the streets of Luz. The scars of a war fought before my time still lingered. Points where limestone transitioned into other materials revealed where buildings had been repaired.
Vendors packed their carts, and the streets grew quiet save for the song of crickets and an occasional traveler passing on horseback.
A tall figure stood by the market Egress. When Dritan spotted me, he smiled. I would never tire of his face—I’d memorized every detail.
There was a subtle chip in one of his canines that he’d cracked on a wine bottle we’d once shared in the boathouse, and his eyes crinkled with just the right softness to convey his affection. An unfortunate fishing hook accident had left a moon-shaped scar on his chin.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
Was I sure I wanted to marry him?
