The great hall was loud with people talking over one another, laughter, and music. More than once she found herself wishing she could escape in the smoke drifting from the sconces, but only when dancing with someone other than Cethin.
She’d danced with Tybalt, the Commander stiff but kind as he guided her around the dance floor. She’d also danced with Jarek, Zayan, and one of the advisory lords, but after each one, she’d found her way back to Cethin, his dark and icy magic erasing the burns left behind from the touch of others. Thankfully, food had been announced, and now she sat at the head table with Cethin at her side.
Using her fork, she cut off a slice of cake, dragging it through the raspberry drizzle she couldn’t get enough of. It was almost as good as the rolls with cinnamon. And the spiced cakes they often had at dinner. And the peach cobbler with dollops of thick cream.
Cethin shifted beside her, his hand on the table right next to her plate. He was speaking to someone on his other side, but she was acutely aware of his every movement. She was also acutelyaware he hadn’t touched her since they’d sat at the table to eat. More than that, she was acutely aware that it bothered her, andthatshe couldn’t understand. She couldn’t understand how she’d started anticipating his touch.
No.
She’d started anticipating the brush of his magic because that meant his touch was coming.
A touch shewanted.
Not once in her nearly three centuries of life could she rememberwantingto be touched. She tolerated touches. Suffered through them. At times, she lashed out when they were unexpected, but she’d neverwanted.
She hadn’t wanted to believe him—that he could make touch pleasurable—but here she was, wondering what else he could do. He used touch to tease her. Entice her. Irritate her.
But he also used it to distract her. Coax her. Help her.
And sometimes, she could swear he couldn’t help it. As if he’d go mad if he didn’t wrap her hair around his finger or brush his arm against hers.
It was all so…confusing.
“You are quiet, wife.”
The soft words in her ear made stray hair flutter, and she jolted a little. Then she frowned. She was never taken by surprise. Ever. She always calculated every move. Tracked all the bodies. Knew the powers in the room. The quickest exits.
Her face must have betrayed her displeasure—which was another issue in and of itself—because Cethin had a look of concern when he asked, “What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat, getting herself back under control. “Nothing is wrong,” she replied, setting down her fork and moving her hands to her lap.
“You look upset,” he pushed.
“This is simply…a lot,” she replied, deciding that was the simplest way to answer.
“I know it is,” he said, his smile soft. “But you’re doing so well.”
Something inside her went molten at those words, and gods. That was yet another thing she didn’t understand or want to look at too closely. None of this had been part of the plan when she’d come here. Agreed to all this.
“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked, the words still low and quiet, meant just for her. To those looking on, this simply appeared to be an intimate conversation between a new husband and wife. Because they needed to be convincing. That was all this was. A show for his people.
The idea both comforted her and made her shift in her ornate chair. Who needed a chair this ostentatious?
“Kailia?” Cethin asked, the crease in his brow deepening. “Are you sure you are all right? Did something happen?”
“No,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Nothing happened.”
“Then what?—”
“Ready for that dance, Lia?”
She looked up, finding Razik standing in front of them. Cethin was trying to tamper down his glare. It took a few seconds, but he managed to get his features twisted into something almost pleasant.
“We’re having a private conversation,” Cethin replied tightly.
“I’m aware. I’ve been watching. My job and all,” Razik replied blandly. “But Lord Tovan is about to come over here and interrupt for a dance, and he’s not on the approved list. I figured I’d save everyone from that awkward moment.”
Cethin glanced over, and Kailia followed his gaze, where the lord was indeed watching them, clearly waiting for an opening.
