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“As for the other things that just flew through your mind, I took care of them, thus you didn’t need to. We can share such responsibilities.”
I threaded my fingers through his silky hair, as always unable to resist touching him. A surge of affection filled me. In many ways it didn’t matter what doubts I harbored or that a psychologist would likely hand me a list of the ways in which my relationship with Rogue fit the termdysfunctional,I loved him, fully and completely.
I felt right in my skin when we were together in a way that I didn’t when we were apart. It was an odd sensation, because it wasn’t as if I felt wrong without him—I just felt more right with him. A rightness I’d never before experienced in my life. That meant I had to do my best to make this work.Love as an active verb, as I’d once told Starling.
Not that difficult when he gave me the least thing I mentioned wanting. He’d brought me a basket of apples.
“This was very thoughtful of you—all of it. And thank you for the apples.” I took one and bit into it. Perfectly crisp and sweet.
“I didn’t magic these up either. I picked them for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You think magic is easy for me and means nothing.”
“That’s not true.” I ran my fingertips over the curls of his ear auricle, the way he liked. “Not everything has to be a grand gesture. I greatly appreciate the thought, but I don’t think I’m that high maintenance.” Not like Titania was, most likely. Probably where all of this was coming from. More baggage. More reasons not to be that way.
“Then why did you mention apples, specifically?”
I puffed out a sigh for my carelessness. Note to self on accidentally assigning quests for Rogue. “Sorry—I meant the poisonous apples like at Castle Brightness. It turns out the dragons eat them.”
He fell quiet, contemplating, moving his head slightly under my caress, the way a dog showed it was enjoying being petted. “Perhaps it’s time you told me more of your adventures while I was…away. And why you’re so bothered this morning.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that he read my emotions so easily. Though this whole thing of him being interested in how I felt seemed like a new phase for us. Go figure.
So, I opened my grimoire to the timeline I’d started, referencing what I’d already added and making notes as I talked. One thing about telling a long story to an immortal, especially a tale punctuated with pauses, was they have near-infinite patience. Rogue barely stirred, listening without comment, until I got to the part about visiting dragons in Walter’s castle.
“You have to be the only being in all of Faerie,” he said, “to have given a dragon’s eggbackto a dragon.”
“It smelled the egg in my pocket and wanted it.”Shewanted it, I mentally amended, since I was reasonably sure this was the same dragon. Not like it was easy to tell them apart, however. “Why wouldn’t I have given it to her?”
“They’re valuable.”
“So I understand, but I imagine they’re even more valuable to the dragons themselves.”
Rogue laughed and rubbed his cheek on my velvet-covered knee. “It’s just no wonder they like you so much. I’ve really never heard of such a thing before.”
“Walter said they’re drawn to our human flavor of magic.”
“That could be. They certainly don’t mix well with mine.
Rogue sounded rueful and I recalled my theory that the nullifying presence of dragons in Walter’s domain had weakened his abilities. And the distilled dragon’s blood elixir I’d concocted had affected Titania with devastating force.
“Does it affect you negatively—having the dragon here?”
“Why?” Rogue tipped back his head to look up at me, his voice full of amused irony. “Would you run her off for my sake?”
Okay, the image of me fighting the dragon for him was a bit absurd. “Or at leastaskher to go, yes.”
He smiled and rested his head on my knee again. “Thank you, my gracious Gwynn. So far, I and the rest of the castle denizens seem to be fine. Your dragon is keeping to herself, and the people seem to be generally excited about the notoriety.”
“Oh. I suppose her presence is a bit attention-grabbing.”
“At this point, the more attention, the better.”
I supposed that was true. Titania liked to take advantage of ignorance, working in the deep shadows of memory loss, mystery and secrecy. Rogue seemed to be going for the fae equivalent of living our lives on the front page, with the major newspapers knowing everything, so that if something should happen, at least our disappearance should raise questions.
No one had missed Cecily. Outside of Nancy and Fafnir, I’d never heard any mention of her. And he hadn’t even known where she was buried until I told him—something I now regretted.
