Page 83 of Foundling

“Yes.” Attalus reached with his other hand, warm and supple from the water, to cup her cheek. “I’m sorry, Leita.”

“I am, too. I…shouldn’t have left without you.” Swallowing back her worries, she said, “We’re here now, though. Together. If this is to work, I need you to promise me, no more lies. Even if I won’t like the truth.”

“I can do that. I’ll swear to it, if that will ease your worry.”

He meant a pact. Leita’s fears and desires seized on it, and for a moment, she reveled in the idea. But, with another breath, she told him, “I’ll trust you.”

A corner of his mouth kicked up in a rakish grin. “You won’t regret it, agae. I swear it.”

While not strictly binding as they would be in a pact, his words nevertheless coated her festering worries in relief. It was the balm she needed.

Standing, Leita dipped a finger in to test the water before stripping down to her skin.

She stood there naked, and Attalus looked his fill.

“It’s right you should stand before the sea and stars,” he told her, helping her step into the tub, “for only they could rival your beauty.”

On another night, she might’ve rebuffed or ignored his flattery. Tonight, though, Leita held it against her heart. She trusted he said what he felt, that he thought her beautiful.

His gentle hands guided her down into the tub and then back onto his chest. The warm water slid sensuously around her limbs, and Leita sighed happily, melting into him.

Between kisses to her cheeks and shoulders, Attalus tenderly washed her. His hands cleansed and massaged, working out knots and tangles. He unplaited and then wetted her hair, administering the same creams and oils. Leita liked that they would share a scent. He used both the comb and his claws to work her long hair into a soft, shining fall down her back.

His hands found her breasts, but the touch wasn’t as seductive as she expected. He plumped and kneaded, thumbing her nipples, but before she could truly begin to moan, he slid down her chest to continue the massage.

Her desire hovered just below burning in a pleasant, syrupy kind of daze. Warm and satisfied, she’d no arguments when he finally stood up in the bath with her cradled in his arms. Water sluiced off them as he stepped out.

They dried each other with thick bathsheets before he carried her to the bed. Naked, they crawled in together, slipping beneath the sheets.

It was a large bed, far too large for just Leita, but when Attalus stretched out his wings, he claimed it for himself. The sight of him there, beside her, in her bed, settled Leita in a way that was nearly intoxicating.

“Will you stay with me awhile?” he whispered, his voice already slurred with drowsiness.

“Of course, azore,” she promised, kissing his chin.

As she traced his regal face with her fingertips, his eyes slid closed. He soon fell into a deep sleep, a grin still on his lips.

21

Leita hadn’t meant to be away for quite so long. By the time she opened her bedchamber door with magic, her hands full carrying a tray laden with warm breakfast, the sun was already high in the sky.

She’d dozed off so long the night before, comfortable and relaxed from the bath and holding her azai, she’d almost slipped into a long sleep. It’d taken great effort to rouse herself from the warm spot beside Attalus, and she’d watched Slinky scurry to take her spot in Attalus’s arms with no small amount of jealousy.

So it wasn’t with enthusiasm that she’d finally donned a few comfortable robes and went in search of Charis. Leita had found her, as she thought she would, in her office, amongst her many rare books and message crystals and endless sheaves of paper. Pleased to see her and hear of their journey back, Charis had listened patiently as the sun rose.

Leita had meant to go back right after—possibly even ousting Slinky from her spot—but then Ladies Idrisil and Eilean had stopped in and wanted to hear the tale, too. Lady Eilean hadn’t let Leita go without promises to bring Attalus before the council as soon as possible.

“We have to know what we’re dealing with,” had been Eilean’s ominous reason.

Leita made promises as noncommittally as she could before fleeing for the kitchens. There, she was pleased to find better fare than the last time. A tray was made up for her of fresh sweet breads, fruit compote, heavy cream, butter, syrup, and thick cuts of ham. Her mouth watered the long way back to her bedchamber, and Attalus would be lucky to get a bite at all with how good everything smelled.

She did look forward to getting to wake her dragon, though. He no doubt would still be asleep, enjoying the comfort of her bed.

At least, so she’d thought. She walked into her chamber to find it bright, the curtains pushed open, and the bed empty. Well, not entirely. Slinky lay near the foot rolled into a tight ball.

Rustling sounds emanated from the closet room at the far side of the chamber. Bewildered, Leita shut the door behind her and placed the tray on her desk. After shooting Slinky, whose head popped up with the smells, a warning finger, Leita went to investigate.

“Attalus?” she called. What could he be doing already? She’d unpacked everything last night.