Alora took a moment to consider it. Her body no longer ached, only a hollow ache lingered in her veins where her magichad been stripped. Her most recent memories had returned, but she could not remember her mother’s face.
Her throat tightened but she pushed the sorrow away.
“I am fine,” Alora murmured. Her gaze lowered, finding him fully dressed and in different clothes from last night. She pouted. “You said you wouldn’t go anywhere.”
“I stepped out for a minute.” Rune tucked a loose curl behind her ear, a faint smirk on his mouth. “Seeing as I don’t sleep, I made use of my time and expanded this little cottage of yours to befit a queen.”
Alora sat up, looking around the unfamiliar space. The room was large and refined. She now lay in a beautiful four poster bed in its own chamber, hearth in the corner and large windows on both walls, through the curtains were drawn closed. Beside bed were gilded glass doors that piqued her interest.
Alora peeked past the curtains and found a terrace coated in ivy with a view of the pond below. “Cottage?” she mused. “You turned it into a manor.”
“As you deserve.” Rune drew her back into bed.
The main door was beautifully carved with a familiar mountainside. But beyond it lingered the hum of voices.
“Who else is here?” she asked.
“Calla and a few other… acquaintances I rather not entertain. Shall I send them away?”
Alora searched Rune’s eyes, seeing past the playful pretense. “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you assume something is wrong?”
She frowned. “You’re too quiet.”
“Am I not allowed?” He tilted his head curiously but his faint smile wavered.
“You’reneverquiet unless you’re scheming.” Alora sat up. “And you closed off the bond. You’re hiding something.”
Rune’s smile deepened.
“I scheme many things, shadow darling,” he replied in that idle tone that she’d come to recognize as deflecting. “I thought you might like the extra space, as I assumed you would want your friend and brother to stay with you.”
Alora gasped softly, looking at the door. “They are here?”
“They wait in your new sitting room. But take a moment to replenish your strength first.”
Rising, Rune nodded to a silver tray from her bedside table. He fluffed her pillows first before setting the tray on her lap. It held a bowl of porridge topped with berries, walnuts, and a drizzle of honey. It was accompanied by a cup of tea, steaming and fragrant.
“I prepared this for you,” Rune proclaimed. At her arched brow he added, “Calla helped.”
“How did you convince Calla into helping you make tea?” Alora asked as she lifted a spoon. It trembled in her hand, showing how weak she was.
“I command, and she obeys. It’s the way of things.” Rune gently took the spoon and sat on the bed beside her. “Here, let me.”
“Rune, I can feed myself.”
He scooped up some porridge and brought it to her lips. “Eat.”
She glowered. “You enjoy giving commands, don’t you?”
“More so when they’re heeded. Now, can I tend to my stubborn wife, or must she fight me on this, too?”
The question made her cheeks warm. She tried not to squirm as the King of the Netherworld fed her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But he was so comically large, his sharp black armor so out of place in her soft pink room that it made her smile. He allowed her to drink tea without help but watched her movements carefully, ready in case she dropped it.
Alora studied Rune in turn, not used to this quiet, tender side of him. But something heavy lingered in the air, a nuance she couldn’t read. His pale complexion looked a touch more gray than usual. And his eyes didn’t quite meet hers either.
She set her teacup down, making it rattle lightly against the tray. “Rune, what happened last night…after?”
