“The rot,” Rian said. “An expanding rot.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Just tell me,” I said again as Rian escorted Vash and me to the dining hall.
“I shouldn't have said that much,” Rian muttered. “Please, let Geris explain.”
“So, he really isn't here for you?”
“Only for my help as his king.” He grimaced. “Although, I think the enclave chose him to be their representative because of our past relationship.”
“I see.”
“You will see. Trust me.” He squeezed the hand I had wrapped around his biceps. “Anything romantic between us is in the past. The distant past.”
“I'm trying to trust you.”
Rian barked out a laugh.
“Why is that funny?”
“Most men would simply say they trusted me. You love me, after all. That should include trust.”
“It should,” I murmured. “But love is part of the reason I don't trust you.”
“That's horrible, my jewel,” Rian said. “Lucky for you, I understand. Every relationship has its hurdles. I'm actually grateful that yours are so easily surmountable.”
“Easily?” I paused just outside the open double doors of the dining hall.
“Yes. All I have to do is mate you.”
“Oh, is that all?” I rolled my eyes and let him lead me inside.
“It's not as if it will take great effort on my part,” Rian said. “The mating will happen naturally.”
“If it happens.”
“As much as you don't like listening to my confidence in it, I don't like hearing your lack of faith, Galin.”
“That's fair. Stop talking about how we're fated to be mates, and I'll stop rebuking it.”
Rian had to stop walking because of the sudden laughter that sent him into a forward bend.
I chuckled as I watched him, but then my gaze slid up the hall, past the orderly rows of dining tables to the grandest table in the room. Geris sat there, in the chair to the right of the throne, looking starkly handsome. My hair was longer and a touch more golden than his, but he wore his blond locks loose, just as I did. I suspected it was for the same reason.
King Rianvar of Sken.
And my suspicions weren't based on unreasonable jealousy. No, this was a new suspicion based on the vicious, almost violent look Geris gave me. He was slim for a Dragon, though not nearly as delicate as I. Rian held my cloak and wing scarf because the large bundle dwarfed me, making it impossible for me to carry and hold Rian's hand. Geris, however, would have managed all right. And he'd likely win in a battle of brawn against me. All right, he'd definitely win. He was a Dragon, after all.
And he looked ready for a fight.
But then Rian straightened and reclaimed my hand. Geris immediately schooled his features. By the time Rian and I climbed the steps to the dais that the high table perched upon, Geris looked downright calm. Not happy, mind you, but calm.
“I told them to wait for your arrival to serve us,” Geris said as Rian brought me down the length of the table. “Ah, here they are.”
A line of servants appeared, each holding a platter or carafe. As they came up the steps, Rian folded my cloak and scarf over a chair.
“Galin, this is Geris.” Rian waved to the Dragon.
