“Why?” Reagan murmured, as if to himself.
I replied anyway, my voice as low as a whisper. “Why what?”
He was scanning my face. “Why do I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of questions when I look at you?”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t know what to say. I stood very still, letting Reagan scrutinise me, his gaze trailing down my body like a lover’s caress, halting where the wet fabric of my skirt clung to my thighs.
My chest rose sharply, heat flushing my neck, my face. I didn’t think anyone had ever beheld me quite so intensely. But I knew what it meant. I knew what kind of longing that was.
It made me want to watch him, too.
Reagan drew his lower lip between his teeth.
My mouth watered, and I heard the voice in my head warning me that my eagerness was a bad sign. I ignored it.
This was just looking. Looking was harmless.
I traced the quick movement of his throat, and my attention narrowed on the exposed skin where his neck met his chest. I followed the curve of muscle there and the line of his sternum, carving a path down his skin.
A strange satisfaction surged, one that I didn’t know if it came from me staring at him or from him staring back.
Alameda’s voice drew us out of the silence. “We brought ale and wine, because, well...we’re having a get-together today.”
CHAPTER 15
Salt and grime clung stubbornly to my legs and feet.
After our return from the harbour city, we each retreated to our quarters in the castle. I had barely finished combing my damp hair when I noticed Reagan’s shadow slipping through the gap under the door. He didn’t knock this time, just waited silently on the other side of the frame. I stepped out soon after, and without a word, fell into step beside him as we made our way to the dining room.
“How can I help you there?” I asked, quickening my pace to match his effortless stride.
“You already are,” he said, his gaze fixed ahead, distant. Thoughtful.
I sighed, struggling to quell my restlessness. “Do you really expect me to just watch? Why don’t you let me help you?”
Reagan’s gaze flicked to me, the sharp edge of his expression softening into something lighter. “Believe me when I say you already are helping. Having an emissary by my side sends a message. It shows unity. In my experience, most of these dealshinge on trust and strategy. A capable staff reflects a credible ruler. It reminds them we’re strong and well-supported. So you may speak or just observe. Either way, you’re already helping.” A faint grin curved his lips. “Besides, you’re interesting. They won’t be able to resist your human knowledge.”
A reluctant smile betrayed me before I could stop it. “I’ll be your entertainment then, if you think that’ll make a difference.” The reply earned a low laugh that seemed to linger as we reached the window-filled room.
Dinner began uneventfully, a meandering exchange about our recent visit to the city and other topics. Much of it focused on their relentless fascination with human habits. But then the discussion shifted, and we began talking about the purpose of our visit.
“All right,” Coriander said, glancing at Alameda for silent confirmation. She gave a slight nod, her golden-brown eyes glinting in the low light. “Let’s hear it, Reagan.”
As if on cue, the remnants of dinner vanished, leaving only goblets of wine and ale. Reagan’s expression remained as neutral and as at ease as before, but there was a quiet precision to the way he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the armrest.
“Let’s talk trade,” he began, launching into the details of his current imports from Erisea and explaining our reason for being here. “Our needs have changed. I wish everything were as simple as textiles, but sadly, it’s not. We came to discuss the current deals for grains and other provisions.”
Coriander nodded. “Do you want to revisit them?”
Reagan’s chin dipped. “Jane and I want to renegotiate, but not just in quantity. You know that I agreed to these orders with Erisea before you two. But since then, the pace of change in Mountheim is creating too many urgent trades, which are very costly, as you know. Last time, we just created a standardarrangement that we see across other estates. But we live in different times than our parents did. So I spoke with my staff, and we decided to plan ahead rather than digging into the coffers over and over.”
He looked at me as he spoke, and I gave a confirming nod, playing along as it seemed to be what he wanted.
Coriander tilted his head, and Alameda leaned forward.
“It’s interesting that you say that. We use the same terms in our other arrangements, and you’re right. The costs for unplanned orders are terribly high,” Alameda conceded.
Reagan nodded, his gaze lingering on the wine glass in his hand.
