“Object to what?” Syla asked as Vorik gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position so he could take a drink.
Thanks to her healing, the movement didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected. By the gods, what a wonderful gift she had. He should have let her magically heal him long ago.
“Marrying Vorik,” Jhiton said. “Do you object?”
“No, that sounds lovely.”
Jhiton shot Vorik an I-told-you-so look and walked away. He was rarely one to mutter under his breath, but Vorik heard him do so, saying, “I should have hadthatbe the ultimate goal for the seduction plan in the beginning.”
Syla gazed at Vorik. “Is your brother seriously trying to arrange our wedding?”
“I think so. Haven’t I told you that he’s mentioned before that he wouldn’t have objected if you’d shown up in our camp, wanting to be my mate?”
“He’s tried to kill me. Numerous times.”
If Jhiton was to believed, the only time he’d loosed arrows at her, he’d only been attempting to keep her from firing the weapons platform. Vorik decided not to seek to convince her of that.
“You’ve tried to kill him numerous times too,” was what he said. “He has a running total.”
“So, naturally, we should become in-laws.”
“It wouldn’t be that unusual in a stormer union. Much like the savage dragons that we ride, we are a somewhat aggressive and combative people.”
“Really. I hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s because I’m so charming and properly behaved in your presence.”
“The last time we had sex, you howled like a wolf. After you roared like a lion.”
“Did you not consider that proper behavior?” Vorik smirked.
“Proper, no. Somewhat flattering, yes.”
“If you send your soldiers away, perhaps I can flatter you again.”
She looked like she might consider that, but one of those soldiers walked up to her. “Apologies, Your Majesty, but what should we do with…” He extended a hand toward Jhiton, who stood next to Teyla, Fel, and two other soldiers near the exit.
Jhiton was close enough to Fel that he could have tried to take his swords back—tried and likely succeeded, even injured—but he hadn’t yet. He looked… tired. Vorik felt bad for him, but he should, by all rights, be dead. This had to be a better outcome than that, surely?
“Is he going to be your prisoner?” Fel asked, an eyebrow arching.
Vorik laughed, recalling how many times Syla had classifiedhimas that.
“No. He’s…” Syla looked at Jhiton, then at Vorik.
Vorik raised his own eyebrows, not sure what he could presume to request. He didn’t even know whathisstatus was to be here in the Kingdom yet.
“The military representative of the stormer chief who is here for diplomatic purposes,” Syla decided on.
Fel looked balefully at her. “That means we can’t put him in a dungeon cell.”
“That’s right, Sergeant. Ask the chamberlain to have a room prepared for him, please.”
“With guards, right?” Fel asked.
“That won’t be necessary. He’s given me his word that he won’t attack me or the Kingdom at this time.” Syla lifted her chin, meeting Jhiton’s eyes.
Jhiton held her gaze and inclined his head once before turning to follow the soldiers out.
