“Yes, I’m starved,” she said, stepping into the dimly lit hall and clicking the lock behind her. Tethys had changed into a simple, slender fit shift that hugged her hips in suchan effortlessly delicious sort of way. Araes wondered how the fabric would feel against his fingertips as he ran a hand down the curve of her body.
“Lieutenant, shall we?” she asked, raising a brow. Araes shifted in his stance and swallowed the thoughts of her perfectly smooth skin back down his throat.
“Yes, sorry, my quee—I mean, wife.” The word burned on his tongue.
She chuckled and started for the stairs, leaving Araes to the ruby red bloom of heat on his cheeks. He was better than this, more composed than this.
Fuck, this woman had a way of completely undermining his composure until he was a puddle of heat and stuttering embarrassment.
The tavern on the first floor was gloriously warm and vibrant with the lingering scent of venison stew and winter cherry pies. Traditional Ursaean dishes were almost always seasoned with full-bodied spices and based with hearty meats or root vegetables. The stews and roasts served in the north starkly contrasted the various canapés and crisp fruit dishes in the east.
His empty stomach grumbled in anticipation as he forked a boiled potato and brought it to his lips. Tethys had suggested the table furthest from the entrance, blocked partially by other pink-faced patrons.
“Did your sister provide the answer you sought?” Araes asked through spoonfuls of his stew.
“Yes, and no. Unfortunately, her answer brought a thousand more questions,” Tethys replied. Her eyes were distant as if while physically here, her mind raced a million miles away.
“I won’t press further, but you can trust me with whatever it is that’s eating at you,” he said, returning his spoon to the chipped ceramic bowl.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Araes. You’ve proven yourself to me time and time again already. I don’t wantyou to get hurt…I don’t want any mortal to get hurt. Whatever or whoever is taking those kids…I can’t shake this feeling that it’s bigger than you. Or me, even. Maybe bigger than the primordials.” Tethys sighed and braced her elbows on the knotted-oak tabletop. Those ringlet curls of hers molded around her neck and Araes couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to run his fingers through them.
“All the more reason,wife. I’m sworn to guard you with my life, but I can’t protect you if you hold the threat close. If this is as big as you say, then don’t face it alone,” he whispered, sliding a palm across the table toward her before he could think better of it.
Taking his hand, she bit her bottom lip and was quiet for a while, staring at the lieutenant as if at war with herself on whether to let loose her secrets or not. Gods, the way her teeth scraped against that wine-stained lip of hers, though.
Men would burn down cities, realms, maybe even the whole fucking continent, for that lip. Araes sipped his spiced wine before the thought infected him any further. He knew, though. There was no denying it. He’d decimate the world if she asked.
“I’ll tell you, but please, Araes, do not betray me,” she whispered, the words falling from her tongue like midnight pleas.
“I swear to you, Goddess, I will never betray you,” he said. His voice was unwavering in its resolve. Tethys nodded and scanned the emptied tavern, before retrieving a palm-sized object wrapped in an old handkerchief.
“This was found at the site of the most recent disappearance.” She held out a small, pearlescent orb and continued to relay the events of the night. By the time she concluded, theories and unanswered questions slammed themselves against his skull like hammers.
“Well, I think you’re right. This definitely feels big,” he stated, repeating the phrase Tethys had said earlier. Shenodded and poured herself the remnants of the wine bottle between them.
“What do you make of it all? I’m sure Ursaean history isn’t something they’d teach during your training, but I’m at a loss,” she said, puckering her lips with a furrowed brow.
“I’m not sure, but if Polaris was so adamant against telling you what she’s been sleepless over, maybe she’s worried about the effect it’ll have on you. Is there anything you can think of that would worry her so?” he suggested, flagging the barmaid for another bottle. She nodded hastily and disappeared into the kitchens.
“I don’t know. Whatever it is, though, I’ve never seen my sister so unsettled. I would speak to my father, but we all know how that conversation would go. If I got even acknowledgement of my concern I’d be lucky,” she said. The barmaid returned and uncorked the fresh bottle with a pop that briefly interrupted the other patrons. A few glanced their way, then returned to their drinks.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise,” Araes said, giving her a reassuring smile.
“I hope so. For the sake of the realms,” Tethys said, and refreshed her glass. “Let us not talk about such dreadful things anymore. We have a fresh bottle of wine, a warm fire, and not a single soul in this establishment knows who we truly are.”
“I second that plan,” Araes said, pouring himself a full glass. The golden flecks glittered mischievously in her brilliant eyes, and a jolt of something just short of desire pulsed its way through him. Tethys extended the smudged glass chalice she held in her hands. Their glasses met with a clink.
“To this breath of fresh air.”
† † †
The clock alerted them of the dawn’s approach after a third bottle of wine was spent. The other patrons had long since retired to their rooms, leaving the tavern vacant. Even in the stillness between empty tables, Araes’s head buzzed from the wine and conversation.
Tethys relaxed in her chair and crossed her leg, the laces of her black boot bouncing in the candlelight as she tapped her foot. A deep blush settled across her cheek, and her curls, once smoothed back trailing down her spine, now loosened and fell across her brow. Araes wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the feeling of absolute freedom of her commoner identity that allowed her to relax some, but seeing her like this unlocked something in his chest that sent waves of warmth up his body.
“Oh, I’m quite familiar with Arissa’s scoldings. When I first arrived in Venia I’d sneak out almost every night to cause trouble with Jaide. The old hag means well, though,” Tethys said, continuing her story about the manor’s matron. Araes couldn’t help but lean into her space. The goddess’s voice was like the brightest of sunrises, the warmest and freshest of springtime breezes, and the sweetest of lilacs. With every word that slipped from those perfect lips, he felt the magnetic pull of her very presence.
“Well, she’s got nothing on my mother. Enyo and I would always sneak out his bedroom window and go down to the river with a satchel full of stolen ale and her fresh baked honey pies. She’d practically rip my brother’s earlobe off dragging our drunken asses back to the cottage.” Araes’s throat went dry. Enyo. He hadn’t spoken his name since telling Tethys of the panic attacks. Much to his surprise, here, with the goddess he used to loathe so much, the name was easy on his tongue. His ribcage didn’t tighten around his diaphragm at the flood of those memories.The walls didn’t cave in and breathing remained effortless.
