“Presumably because you don’t actuallyhavea sex life these days.”
“Rude!” She slapped his shoulder for emphasis. “Rude and untrue. I happen to have an aggressively adequate sex life.”
“I see I’ve chosen a less than opportune moment to interrupt,” said someone behind them, and Adeline’s stomach seemed to shrivel up and crawl away.
The Queen stood with her hands clasped too-tightly in front of her and her lips slightly pursed. Adeline whipped around again to find Ger trembling, turning a worrisome shade of purple; such was the effort of not laughing. She pushed him away, perhaps a little harder than necessary, and forced her face into what she hoped was a dignified – or at theveryleast nonchalant – expression.
“You seemed to be having such fun, I thought perhaps you could invite our guest to join you for a dance?”
Adeline looked around; the King stood to one side, watching the ball in a sober, detached sort of way. Adeline made a face, nonchalance forgotten.
“Yes, simply itching to get out here, isn’t he?”
The Queen smiled as if she’d said;Yes, I’d be delighted!
“Thank you darling,” she said, and gestured for Adeline to follow her. Her mother paused after a step, seeming to deliberate, then added a touch dryly: “Perhaps spare him further discussion of your sex life?”
A delighted crow from behind them told Adeline that Ger had finally given in. She shot him a dark look, and stalked off after her mother.
???
The Merrow King held himself unnaturally straight and still, his hands folded rather formally behind him. He wore an embroidered doublet, dark and high collared, over a crisp white shirt. The elegance of it far removed him from the shivering, raging stranger she’d met only a few days ago, but the difference almost ended there. His jaw, though neater, was still dark with stubble and his hair, freshly trimmed, was still somewhat dishevelled in its overlapping waves. He was rested and well groomed of course, but not quite the neatly pressed gentleman you might expect of a King. He looked up as they approached and offered a grim smile, a slight nod to the Queen; she placed a hand warmly on the crook of his arm.
“Kai dear, you remember my daughter?”
He turned to face Adeline, and an immediate thrill raced across her skin; each of her nerves pulsed at once. It was an odd feeling, an echo of the first time he had looked at her with that wild, angry, searching gaze. No matter how clean and smartly dressed he now was, there was no hiding those eyes or the way they sought to raze everything they beheld. She almost squirmed beneath the heat of them.
Perhaps he realised it too, for the King broke eye contact all too quickly and swept into a smooth bow. He straightened, determined not to meet her eye again, but then his gaze grazed her bare shoulder and immediately darted away, a frown flickering over his brow.
Well, that’s the last time I listen to Imogen.
Because as beautiful as it was, the dress had been a mistake. She could see that now – for this particular occasion, withthisparticular guest of honour. Adeline could only imagine what she looked like, to a man displaced in time, centuries out from everything he’d ever known.
She’d seen countless paintings of old Eisalaan after all. In the portrayals of the King and his lover, the Sorceress wore flowing, high-necked gowns that might pass for frumpy nightwear in this day and age. Adeline doubted whether even Old Eisalaan undergarments were quite as revealing as the pretty scraps of fabric bound over her bare chest.
But the King didn’t seem flustered as such – he was almost put out; irritated. As though having to actively avoid contact with Adeline’s eyes or the expanse of her bared skin was a huge imposition. She bit her lip to keep from either smirking or grimacing, she wasn’t sure which. All she could think was that he’d surely break into a sweat if his gaze travelled any lower than her collarbone.
Remarkably, the Queen didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she was just more gracious than Adeline.
“King Cumhaill, this is Princess–”
“Adeline,” the King said, addressing a pillar a few paces to her left. “Yes, I remember. I still have your cloak.”
Adeline didn’t know what to say to this, but the King didn’t seem inclined to go on. Not athank youor evenI’ll return it soon. He just idly watched the musicians in the far corner, took a small sip from his drink and let the silence stretch on.
“Adeline wondered if you might join her in a dance,” said the Queen, when the awkwardness grew too much even for her.
At this, he glared out at the dancing couples with such distaste that Adeline half expected him to launch into a black soliloquy, detailing how his entire family had been massacred on a dancefloor. Instead he said, with not a hint of even feigned enthusiasm; “Of course.”
With a dutiful nod to the Queen, he moved to offer his arm to Adeline. She almost didn’t take it; let him stand here sulking all night if he liked. He needn’t do her the favour of sharing his cold company. But the Queen inclined her head ever so slightly, eyes wide with meaning, and with a slight lurch, Adeline recalled that this was the entire reason she was here tonight. She had promised to help, to welcome this sullen stranger to their court. So, she plastered on a smile, laid her hand on his elbow, and let him lead her slowly onto the floor like he was marching them both into battle.
Charming.
They turned to face each other; the King looked past her still, though this time his gaze seemed to actually fix on something in the distance. Deep and lilting though it was, his voice was entirely flat when he spoke.
“Won’t your husband mind sparing a dance?”
“My husband?” Adeline followed his line of sight to the main doors, where Ger leaned against the banister, speaking in a low hush to one of the Gards on duty - presumably the passionateBarryshe had heard so much about.
