Moonlight broke from behind hazy cloud cover, piercing silver and propelling images of the beguiling woman he’d met earlier through his mind’s eye. He wondered how she fared after the reaction she’d been having.
Perhaps it was too many drinks?
No, she’d been less pink and rashy earlier in the night.
Ehmet had intended to help her out, despite her protesting. But then his rake of a brother showed up with that harlot on his arm, and the beautiful, if ailing, countess snuck away.
“Nekash,” he grumbled into his drink. The scoundrel always seemed to find his way into matters better left untouched.
Lady Hevva Tilevir though, she intrigued him. First with the fierce protectiveness she’d shown her brother when she’d approached him with that sparkling attitude.
Effervescent.
She was.
Ehmet sipped his drink and leaned out into the night, forearms resting on the stone railing before him. She’d flat denied his invitation to dine.“No,”she’d said. The king barked with laughter and flexed the muscles in his hand before bringing it up to rub the back of his neck. What kind of woman was so married to decorum she demanded the perfect introduction, yet so dismissive of propriety she declined his invitation?Who denies an invitation to dine with the king?
A variation of his mother’s constant prodding echoed in his mind:“Solidify your line, son. It is time to take a wife.”
He did need to, but it certainly wouldn't be with someone as uninhibited as Lady Hevva. Furthermore, he wasn’t in it for love. The tumultuous ardor his father felt for his mother, the constant pain and sorrow the late king inflicted on his queen.Absolutely not.Ehmet had vowed to never, ever, go down that path.
A nice sensible young woman from a decent family. Someone who would make a good companion and be willing to pop out a few heirs. That’s what he was looking for.
Though their encounters were brief, Ehmet knew for an absolute fact that Lady Hevva Tilevir, daughter of the Duke of Stormhill, wasnotwife material. Certainly not for him.
He saw her then, in his memory, her lithe frame in the silver and blue dress she’d worn to the plenary address, those piercing eyes, her luxurious silver satin hair. After dinner, at the inn, the first thing he noticed was her new gown. From bathing in moonlight to plunging into the depths of the ocean, she’d changed into an evening ensemble that rippled in a thousand shades of blue. It was astonishing, and he wasn’t one for clothes.
The second thing he’d noticed was the fact that she was vomiting behind the stables. The way she’d snapped at him when he’d tried to help her...definitely not the right woman for him.Far too volatile.Now, if she was interested in a casual thing, he might be willing to consider the opportunity.
Time for bed,he announced. Ehmet drowned his irritation in the remainder of his drink and plodded through the glass double doors to his enormous chamber.
Shouting and slamming awokehim sometime during the night. Ehmet was out of bed, cracking his neck, and weaving together a hefty sword all before he’d even opened his eyes to see what was going on. It wasdawn, the hazy orange sun started its climb over Rohilavol as he tugged on a pair of only-slightly-dirty suede trousers.
Where the fates are my sta—?His half-formed thought was cut off by the door flying open. Panicked, Ehmet chucked his footless boot at the intruder.
A thunk preceded a croaking, “Your Majesty.” His butler shuffled into the room, one hand on his manhood and one hand holding Ehmet’s left shoe.
“Ah, Parosh. Sorry about that, man.” Ehmet accepted his offending boot from the hunched butler.Decent aim.Though, it would’ve been better if he’d been an intruder and not a loyal member of the staff. “What is happening?”
“Fire, Sir.”
Ehmet startled. “Where?”
“Elk & Heron.”
The king was on his feet in an instant, racing from the room with Parosh hot on his heels. “Have the horses saddled. I want every watercourser with me, now!”
Parosh somehow kept pace, likely using his air magic to help move him along. There was no way the originally short and now shorter-with-age butler could keep up otherwise. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Send carriages after our first wave leaves from the hall. I want healers and blankets down at the inn as quickly as possible.” They thundered down the stairs.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Ready rooms for displaced guests. Retrieve clothing for anyone who needs it. Go man, go, go, go!”
“Yes, Majesty.” Parosh peeled away and zipped down a side hall.
Ehmet made it to the stables ahead of his orders to the inundated manservant. So, he readied his own horse, then caught his breath while stablehands saddled the rest for watercoursers on staff.
