Page 91 of Consort's Glory
“Why are somany of your guards halflings?”
Margot watched Theodore turn down the blankets of the enormous bed. She stood by one of the bedside tables, cast in the warm glow of the lamp perched on its surface, and curled her bare toes into the lush rug under her feet. They were both swaddled in thick robes — Margot’s far, far too long — and their bellies were full from the late dinner that had been delivered to their door.
It was late enough to be considered early, but Margot couldn’t bring herself to give into the exhaustion tugging her towards the bed. They’d been talking for hours now and she didn’t want to stop.
Ever-patient, Theodore flipped the plush comforter over and adjusted the chunky pillows to lie flat as he explained, “Because it’s a good place for them. Families want to keep them close and give them purpose, but I’m not going to pretend like it’s an easy life when the rest of elvish society still turns its nose up at Others. Being in Patrol, moving up the ranks to join the elite forces like my guard, it gives them a sense of identity and kinship a lot of them lack. Halflings stick together, make their own families, have their own traditions. That sort of family loyalty — the hierarchy of family — is important to us. It’s what keeps us grounded.”
“Would I have gone into Patrol?”
Theodore cast her an assessing look. “Mm, probably not. Fierce as you are, darling, you’re still fragile.” He shook his head, his full mouth pursing with the anger that rippled through their bond. “Besides, you would still be a healer. You know how rare that is for witches? It’s even more rare for elves. You would have been fast-tracked into a specialized program and swaddled in wool.”
Margot rubbed her toes into the carpet, her chest aching. “So I wasn’t ever in any danger.”
If there was no danger, then it really was just that my mother didn’t want me. Her greatest fear, her deepest insecurity come to vivid, terrible life. It wasn’t enough to not be normal — she was also unwanted.
Theodore stopped fluffing a pillow to send her a conflicted look. “I… can’t say that for sure. We are a brutal people, Margot. I won’t pretend we’re not. I defend my seat with my own claws, and there’s more than a few people who would be happy to see my throat slit. But…” He looked down and took a deep breath. “But I can’t imagine you would have been in a precarious situation. We’re dying out, darling. Any child is too valuable to lose.”
Apparently not, Margot thought, pushing away the sting of tears. With effort, she said, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ve lived without understanding them my whole life. I don’t need to now. Right?”
Theodore’s reply was tight with barely leashed fury. “Right.”
When he indicated she should crawl into bed, Margot didn’t think twice about shucking off her robe and sliding between the silky sheets. Her eyes never left him. It was not simply that Theodore was handsome. He wasn’t just her future husband, or her bondmate, or the sovereign. For the first time in her life, Margot was presented with the only thing she had ever truly lacked: an endless font of information.
Removing his own much more reasonably sized robe, Theodore slid under the covers with all the grace of a big cat. Margot turned on her side and scooted closer to him, her hands tucked under her cheek.
Theodore chuckled. “If I’d known it would be so easy to get your attention, I would have told you our secrets back at the Healing House.”
“I’m not trying to use you,” she explained, suddenly bashful. “It’s just that everything I’ve been able to figure out about myself, I’ve had to either piece together on my own or pick up from the few academic sources out there. It’s exciting to finally have answers.”
His expression gentled. “I know, darling. I’m just teasing you.”
Theodore settled into his side of the bed. Pulling up the covers so they were both firmly ensconced in warmth, he snapped his fingers. The room darkened instantly.
“There,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around her middle to draw her closer, “now that we’re cozy, ask away.”
“It’s really not a problem that Kaz is half orc? I thought the elves and the orcs didn’t get along.”
“It’s more unusual than a half witch might be,” he allowed, “but Kaz is a Solbourne first. If anyone questioned that, they’d be questioning all of us, and that’s not a very healthy thing to do.”
Margot sighed wistfully. It was delightfully warm under the blankets, with all of Theodore’s skin sliding along hers as he subtly drew her closer and closer, until they were plastered together from chest to knees, their legs tangled in a loose embrace.
“Can I talk to him about it?” Margot pictured the man she’d met only briefly, with his striking face and luminous skin. He looked like every orc she knew and had a crush on as a teen. Familiar. It felt natural to go to him with her questions about being a halfling in this world that was so new to her.
Margot could practically hear Theodore’s frown when he answered, “Of course you can. Don’t know why you’d want to, though. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s not a surly bastard.”
“I’m more comfortable with orcs than I am with elves,” she explained. “The Goodeland is right up against the Orclind, you know.”
Theodore’s knuckles followed the line of her spine in a slow, sensual drag. “Did you have orcish friends growing up?”
“A few, yeah.”
“Just a few?”
“Well,” she admitted, giving in to the urge to run her fingers over his collarbones in the semi-darkness. His skin was smooth, but tougher than hers. His bones were sturdier, too. She couldn’t begrudge him for dismissing her question about becoming a soldier in Patrol when he was built with steel bones but she could crack like an egg with one wrongly placed elbow.
Theodore made a soft sound in his chest, the beginnings of a low, shiver-inducing purr. “Well?”
Margot licked her lips. “Well, I mainly had just the one friend. His name was Luke.”
