He gave her another deliberate once over then, and she raised a brow at his blatant stare.
“Spit it out, brother.”
A deep exhale left him, and he straightened up, pushing whatever it was he was thinking about to the back of his mind. He extended an arm to her. “Come. We will be late.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE BANQUET WAS grander than she’d expected.
She was weary of the extravagance, cautious of whatever it was her brother was up to. Something didn’t feel right in her bones. She felt him watching her most of the night, and she only began to forget about his gaze when she was reprieved by one of the Ambassadors of Scindo Creek’s daughters. Aydra found herself immersed in conversation with this girl as she told tales of her own village, of the journeys she’d taken with her father to the Village of Dreams and to the Hill towns. It seemed the woman had had a life of travel that Aydra found herself envious of, and Aydra invited she and the Belwark who had accompanied her back to her room later that night.
Aydra retreated to her room not long after her exchange with the Belwark and Dreamer, eager to have a few moments to herself before the true festivities of the night. Willow had drawn her another hot bath, this time with salts and lavender flower, to which she was grateful for. Her muscles ached of the long journey on horseback. She sank into the warm water and allowed the scent of the purple flowers to fill her nostrils, relaxing her stresses and murmuring her into a trance.
She tried to think of greater things than the shake of the Infi being pulled back into the ground, of whatever it was her brother was up to. Even going as far as to pull herself beneath the water, letting her breath catch and struggle before emerging back into the cool room. The pipe stared at her beside the tub, but she didn’t reach for it. She wanted to be sober when her new conquests found their way into her bed later that night.
The moons light cascaded through her open window. It was raining, but the clouds did not reach the moons in the far distance. It was an odd sight to see, the light reflecting off the droplets as they poured outside. The raven sat on the windowsill just out of the rain, merely keeping her company as it usually did. She wondered what Dorian and Draven were doing, if Draven was getting her younger into trouble or if he was actually taking care of him. Dorian was as free spirited as herself, and she knew he could look after himself. But she would feel better about it when the Belwark escorts journeyed to retrieve him in the morning.
Only when her fingers began to wrinkle did she emerge from the bath and wrap her black silk robe around her body. She let her hair down from the plait and started moving the pillows off the bed that Willow insisted she keep up there.
A small smile rose on her face when she heard her door open, and she didn’t bother looking up from the bed to see if it was indeed the Belwark and Dreamer from Scindo that had joined her.
“Someone is eager to please tonight,” she muttered, pulling the sheet back.
The person didn’t speak, and she almost frowned at the shadowed being standing against her door. “Are you going to stand there in the dark or should you like to come join me?” she asked.
She heard a boot step forward, and she looked up, only for her stomach to drop.
Lightning cracked outside.
Rhaif was standing in front of the door, half of his face lit up by the moons, the other half still shadowed by the curtains of her bed.
She felt her face pale, her heart begin to throb, but she stood her ground as she walked around the bed towards him. “Brother,” she managed, tightening her arms over her chest. “I thought you would have been pre-occupied with the dancers.”
The thunder shook her room.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. He’d removed his royal garb and was wearing a loose white night tunic. Aydra’s jaw tensed.
I am here, her raven called to her from the window.If you need me.
Wait for me, Aydra whispered incomprehensibly back to it.
Rhaif’s eyes darted from the raven to her upon hearing the noise, and he huffed amusedly under his breath.
“What do you want, Rhaif?” Aydra asked in a soft voice she didn’t recognize.
He finished turning his sleeves, and then he shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly and allowing his fluffy black curls to fall over his eyes. “Simply answering your cry for attention,” he told her.
The noise in her ears turned to ringing.
“My cry for attention?” she repeated. “If I ever cry for attention, it is not meant for you.”
He almost looked upset at her words, and his bottom lip pouted just so. “That hurts, sister,” he said softly. “You know I would never do anything that you didn’t want.”
“And what exactly is it you think I want?” she managed.
A small smile curled on his lips, and he walked over to her fireplace, taking the poker out and taunting the fire in its depths. “This new title is getting to your head, I think,” Rhaif said. “My men are beginning to question me.”
She watched the fire poker glowing red hot in his hand, and she felt her weight shift. “Your men were useless this week,” she replied.
