Edric’s lips pressed together. He’d heard Mav’s words and chose to ignore them. “Let’s continue, shall we?”
My arm remained looped through Edric’s on the climb to the guest tower. His touch remained light and formal, yet every brush of him against me grated my nerves. I did not wish to lay eyes on him, let alone touch him. I considered shoving him into one of his ridiculous marble replicas and fleeing.
Unfortunately, I needed him.
Or rather, I needed his acquiescence. I kept my mask in place, ever the courteous guest.
My companions followed at a respectful distance. Corridoryielded to corridor, stair to stair, until the vaulting gave way to the familiar circular landing of the guest tower.
A servant waited with gloved deference and indicated to four doors.
“Your chambers, Lady Quinnève, here. Your companions—” a polite wave “—accordingly placed.”
Mav’s chambers were directly opposite mine. It was too far. The tether pulled taut as the distance grew. Pain bloomed low and insistent, humming within my ribs as the bond objected.
The longer my arm stayed linked through Edric’s, the more the tether thrummed with jealousy and rage. I could feel Mav’s gaze between my shoulder blades as if he pressed a hand there.
I allowed a king to deliver me to my door. The tether snarled with each step. My ribs throbbed. Across the landing, Mav stood with his frame locked, expression nearing murderous, eyes calculating how many royal crimes a man might commit before dawn. Our eyes met for a heartbeat in silent conversation.
At my door, Edric turned, expression softened to the precise degree practice dictates. “I hope the accommodations are comfortable.”
“Most generous,” I replied, civility polished thin.
Edric lifted my hand and brushed a kiss across the knuckles. “Good night, Quinnie.”
I had never been more grateful for evening gloves.
“Good night, Your Majesty.” With a rushed curtsy, I slipped into the chambers and closed the door, thankful for the barrier.
The chamber was as overdone as the corridor. Ivory panels were worked into vines, a marble hearth banked to a glow, and an overly large four-poster bed dominated the space. It was far too much space for a life measured in two-week increments.
The tether yanked the air from my lungs. I caught the edge of the vanity to keep from falling. The latch clicked. Mavthundered through the door. I went to him without hesitation, wrapping my arms around his middle, inhaling his comforting scent.
He exhaled into my hair. “Are you—was that?—”
“Mav, you cannot allow the king to upset you.”
He drew back, breath unsteady. “I am going to be upset any time someone who is not me puts their hands on you.”
The overwhelming need to erase Edric’s lingering touch claimed my every sense. I needed Mav to rewrite the sensations imprinted on my skin.
I kissed him and could not help the smile against his mouth. “Then put yours on me, Mav.”
He did.
With one hand at the back of my head, the other sure at my waist, he kissed me as if making up for lost time. I broke away only long enough to catch his hand and draw him toward the ridiculous bed. I pushed him back into a sea of violet pillows. He looked up at me with a flash of hunger, edged with surprise. I tried to climb over him, thwarted by the layers of my gown.
“Undress me,” I said, breathless.
His grin was quick and wicked. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He reached around to the laces at my spine. I leaned into the heat of him, tracing my lips along his throat?—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
We stilled.
“Quinnie?” Edric called through the door. “I have your…bags from the inn.”
