I scowl, refusing to look at him. He cradles me closer to his chest.
“You know I’m not actuallya baby, right?” I snap, hitting his shoulder. “You don’t have to hold me like one.”
“How should I hold you, then?” Amusement dances in his gray gaze.
Don’t hold me at all, I want to say, but the words won’t pass my lips. I’m worried he’ll listen and let me go, and I don’t really want him to.
I just can’t admit it.
So I don’t say anything at all.
He sighs, tilting my chin toward him. I keep my eyes fixed firmly over his shoulder.
“Mayah,” he murmurs so softly, I can’t help but meet his gaze. “I left you alone last night for a few minutes, and you wereattacked. The war between our kingdoms has raged for decades—it will take time for the citizens to forget. To heal. There could be other people who want to hurt you. Just … don’t leave our chambers without me, okay? I’ll spend every free minute with you.”
“I could explore the palace with my guards. What good are they if I’m not safe with them?” He traces the line of my jaw with his thumb before tucking a loose curl behind my ear.
There’s so much tidesdamnedreverencein his touch.
Tides drown me, I can feel my anger melting.
“I could assign you fifty guards, but Faramir can order every single one away.” He cups my cheek. “I want you to be happy here, Mayah. Happy withme. But I also need to keep you safe. Would you let me wander around the Tundrayni palace alone?” He pretends to think, finger tapping against his cheek. “Actually, don’t answer that.”
An amused huff escapes me, and he grins. His smile is slowly becoming my favorite sight. Maybe because he reserves it just for me. I’ve only ever seen him scowl at others.
My heart caves, even as my mind screams that this is a mistake.
“All right.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
TheTyrantgatheredamassive following, wielders of every sort, swayed by promises of gold and power and prestige, sowing death and despair across the lands—
I yawn, stretching my legs out on the large bed. The book snaps shut in my lap. I should have started with the Arbinji history tome, but I was curious about what story Zev loved as a child. I don’t dwell on that decision.
Instead, I check the time. The sun set hours ago, and I haven’t seen Zev since last night. He was already gone when I woke. Irritation blooms inside me, even as another yawn forces past my lips. I listened to him and didn’t leave our chambers, all my meals delivered here. Eaten alone. Like a tidesdamned prisoner in a gilded cage.
Irritation swells into rage. Tides damn this. I’m determined to remain awake so I can throttle Zev when he finally deems to show his face.
Sleep claims me anyway.
Again, I wake alone the next morning, but it’s clear Zev has been to bed—the sheets on his side are rumpled, his faint, smoky scent lingering in the air. And if I press his pillow over my face and inhale deeply, even as anger roils in my stomach, well, that’s no one’s business but my own.
I head to the washroom for a quick bath—my handmaids have thankfully agreed to ready me only for formal events. After emerging, I sit at Zev’s—our—large wooden desk, rummaging in the drawer for parchment and a quill.
It’s time I wrote home.
Dearest Father,
I trust you are well. By now, you must have heard of my nuptials to Prince Zevayr. I imagine you must be shocked. I was, too, at first. But I realized this was the best decision for both myself and Tundrayn.
You need not worry for my safety. Zevayr has treated me with kindness and respect. He protected me during our journey to Arbinj. I believe he has grown to care for me. I feel safe with him.
I came to Arbinj with the goal of peace and safety for our people—that remains unchanged. I stand in a better place to achieve it with my husband by my side. Please accept my decision.
I am acclimating well to life in Arbinj. I have not seen much of the capital, but I hope my husband will find time to show me.And I will be helping plan the Equinox Festival. I eagerly await your visit and your reply.
Please tell everyone that I am safe and miss them terribly.
