“Likely,” I said dryly, making her laugh. I exhaled, most of the tension from the mere mention of Lesana on Millie’s lips draining away with that laugh. “Thank you for telling me you saw her.”
It would’ve been easier not to say anything at all.
“I promised I would,” she said.
She distracted me with a long, deep kiss, and the remaining tension loosened from my shoulders. My wings lowered, the tips dragging on the ground as my hands dug into her hips, pulling her closer.
Against her lips, I murmured, “And thank you for dinner tonight.”
“You think everyone liked it?” she asked, pulling away and nibbling on her reddened lips, uncertain.
I shook my head, still amazed that she had doubts her food was anything less than spectacular. “Everyone loved it, Millie. You didn’t hear, but Kaldur was only half joking when he said he wanted you to be his personal culinarian in his keep.”
Millie laughed, flushing, the compliment lighting her up. “Oh. Good. What did you say?”
“That you aremyculinarian and to keep his greedy little claws off you,” I said, my tone playful. “On Raazos’s blood, my brother gets absolutely feral whenever you make thosekannotarts.”
Her laughter brightened up the cottage, and I held her close to the still-warm kiln oven. The only thing that had survived the fire. The only original piece of the cottage that was here before. Her father’s engraving was still stamped on the inner wall.
“I’ll send him home with some,” she teased. “That should keep him satisfied for a little while.”
“At least until he comes slinking back at the next moon winds,” I grumbled. “When do I get you all to myself?”
“Only every night,” she pointed out, quirking her brow.
“I do, don’t I?” I asked, grinning shamelessly.
“Yes,” she said. Her breath hitched, and she beamed up at me. Each and every day, she somehow got more beautiful. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way because I’m a little possessive of you too, husband.”
“Good,sasiral,” I purred.
My eyes caught on something sitting on the opposite end of the room, something I’d received just that morning. I’d been waiting for a quiet moment to give it to her. Right now was a perfect one.
Pulling away, I crossed to the window seat I’d built into the updated plans of the cottage, carefully picking up the leather-bound bundle from the cushions there, careful not to bend it.
Returning to Millie, I took in her curious expression when I held it out to her. “A gift.”
“What’s this for?” she asked, suspicion lacing her tone, though she was smiling. She was only alittlebetter about receiving gifts, especially the expensive kind, though I hadn’t paid a single credit for this one. I didn’t know how she’d react to it, truthfully, but it was the meaning behind it that I thought might make her want to keep it. Or, at least, allow me to display it within the keep. My office, perhaps, or the library.
“Open it and see.”
When she untucked the flap of the leather and slid the encased parchment from within, I watched her brows furrow in confusion…and then her lips parted in shock.
“Is this…?” she breathed.
“Yes.”
“I’m…I’m holding Ver Teracer’s artwork in my hands right now,” she exclaimed after she squinted at the telltale gleaming, sparkling blue signature in the corner. Her tone made me chuckle, especially when she turned those dazed eyes up at me.
“Yes,” I said. “You.His portrait of you, Millie.”
The female in the drawing was achingly beautiful with her imperfect symmetry—her sloped, wide nose, her dark, defined brows and joyous eyes. I’d been attempting to draw Millie just likethis, but somehow Ver Teracer had captured her perfectly, effortlessly.
“This isn’t me,” she said, frowning. “She’s…stunning.”
I pulled her into my arms, pressing my lips to her forehead, though I was careful of the priceless parchment between us.
“He did indeed draw you,” I informed her. “Just as he said he would.”
