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I laughed. “I did not.”
“Keffa can handle the guild master. Let’s go and get your bath.”
“Goll. We haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”
“I prefer to eat you first. Then we’ll have trays sent up.”
I squeezed my thighs at the thought of that.
“Come.” His nostrils flared before he stepped away. He took my hand and led me toward the door. “We’ll be sleeping in tentsagain tomorrow night, and I want to enjoy you in our bed for as long as I can.”
“I suppose I have no choice in the matter,” I teased.
“Your king commands, Mizrah.” He stopped at the door, cupping my cheek. I leaned into him. “Will you deny your king?” He pressed closer, his eyes fiery blue and hungry.
A thread of vulnerability whispered in his voice, his expression expectant and bracing, as if I would deny him.
Smiling, I murmured, “Never.” Then we went to his bedchamber and made the best of the afternoon and the night.
I’d never tell Hava, but he was a far more attentive handmaiden than any I’d ever had.
Chapter 33
GOLL
I couldn’t describethis emotion I was experiencing as I watched Una on her pale Pellasian mare talking and laughing with Pullo who was describing how the beast fae chose to live, which was very different than the rest of the civilized world. Tierzel watched and listened from Una’s other side.
When any male held Una’s attention, my initial reaction was annoyance. But at the moment, I felt something entirely different. The joy on her face, the leisurely way she spoke to Pullo and Tierzel about the nomadic habits of the beast fae, and her relaxed demeanor among my warriors gave me such pleasure I hadn’t realized I’d craved it.
I’d wanted this moment to come. To see this harmony of Una in my world. For she did belong here. There was no mistaking it.
She looked more natural as my mizrah than any wraith-born could have. Draped in the gray winter cloak Hava had made for her with the white Meer-wolf trim, slits cut for her wings, she guided her horse among my warriors like she was their leader, not me.
Truth be told, they were likely more devoted to her than me. If a threat came upon us, they’d defend her first, which is exactly how I’d want it. Even Soryn, who kept snapping his gaze back to check on her.
“She is making friends quickly, isn’t she?” Keffa commented from next to me.
“She is.”
“And the king seems content with her,” Keffa noted with a touch of wistfulness. “I am happy for you.”
He kept his gaze forward, but the tightness at his one good eye revealed the tension in his body. And his mind and heart.
“I am sorry I could not save her, Keffa.” We rarely spoke of Vayla, but I knew that the recent revelation with Una had brought her to the forefront of his mind.
He gave a sharp shake of the head. “No reason to be sorry, Goll.”
He often used my given name when we were alone or just with Soryn. He’d been a mentor to me growing up, like a kind uncle. Since my father saw me as nothing more than a nuisance as a child, I’d always find my way to the training yards where Keffa would teach me, spend time with me.
“That time has long passed,” he added. “And the gods do as they will.”
After I’d killed my father, rallied my allies, and freed Keffa from the dungeon cell where my father had left him to rot, we had found Vayla’s corpse. I’d never imagined she’d been kept next to Una or they’d ever had an encounter. Still, it seemed prophetic that they had. Divine.
“She gave her last bit of magick to Una before she died.” I’d already told him this before we left Näkt Mir and exactly what Vayla had said to Una in the dungeon. He’d deserved to know. Still, I felt the need to remind him. “What a beautiful gift that was.”
He smiled then, still focused on the road ahead. “That was my Vayla. Ever giving to others. Even when they didn’t deserve it. Though your mizrah did deserve it.”
“Truth, Keffa.”
