Keane’s smile tightens as we both watch Stormfall’s eyes flash another set of vibrant gold. I hold the bird’s gaze hard.
Yes, Hirovale, I’m talking to you.
My stare is broken by a young serving boy bringing out our plates for dinner. He drops the main course of smoked peppered trout at my front before handing another small plate with raw red meat to Keane.
“Are black hawks common in Pyre?” Tripler asks from down the table.
“He himself isn’t common, though firehawks grace their woods and beyond,” I reply as Keane leans back to the serving boy, his arm still stretched behind my chair, “I’ve been told that Stormfall is distantly related.”
“Truly fascinating,” Tripler murmurs.
I nod and glance down the table, past the Prince and his brother on his right. Mana is seated next to the Master Informer with Holis next him and then Cal. I note that Alanna is seated next to my big friend tonight, her cool grey eyes smiling up at him.
“An unexpected duo,” Keane murmurs, catching the direction of my gaze.
“If it makes them happy.”
“And you?” he leans in closer to me.
“And me, what?” I ask quietly.
“Are you happy?”
“I will be,” I nod, “when I have the chance to talk to your father.”
Keane’s grip on the back of my chair tightens, “tomorrow, Alexis.”
My full body stiffens, “you’re traveling with us?”
The Prince nods, pushing a new glass of toddy towards me, “you forget that my brother and I have conversations of our own that need to take place.”
Desmond turns in his seat at Keane’s comment, his dark eyes finding mine in agreement.
Ancients, I had forgotten.
I grab the toddy and swallow the drink whole, then lean back in my chair to search for Golem in the shadows. Keane’s hand presses into my back, his fingers gently stroking between my shoulders and sending my thoughts into a scatter.
Keane…
In Bardot…
Walking the halls of the castle I’ve called home for so long.
I can only envision his tall and commanding figure bounding past the greenstone walls as the bottled moonslight shines down on him with every step. What would it be like to see him calling on me at my room, or even walking along the fourth floor that I briefly got to visit in my meeting with the King? It hits me, then, that the large black bed I saw in the hall on that floor was his. His room. His residence.
Fuck.
I need to pull my mind away from that trail of thought.
But now all I can think about is him standing under the Great Oak, his brown eyes playfully waiting for me as I greet him under the massive tree.
“You’re doing it again,” Keane says softly, hand flattening just under my neck.
I make the mistake of looking back at him, my gut clenching at the kindness creeping behind his brown eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asks quietly.
I swiftly reach for the mug in front of me and take a deep drink of ale. Keane slowly lifts his hand to the back of my neck, his fingers coaxing me into an honest reply.
