Page 76 of Veil of Night & Flames

“Stay,” he says against my mouth.

“I want to, I admit. But I can’t.” I hold his hands tight. “But I’ll come back. I want more, too.” He nods, then he steps back and lets me go.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Adric stood at the long table in his private chambers, going through the day’s reports with Kali at his elbow, the way he had done at the end of every day for an age. The late afternoon painted the stone floor in pale orange, casting a warmth about the room that seemed part of the fire that burned in the great hearth.

As usual, Kali read each report in her clipped soldier’s cadence, and he was listening with one ear and turning the events of the last few hours over in his mind—Cora’s mouth on his, her hand on the cracked leather of the book, their delicious kiss before she crossed back to the Real.

The best part of the day, as far as he was concerned, and also a part he was choosing not to share with his advisor.

“The southern lords have requested an audience next week,” Kali said. “Trade matters. Routine. I have scheduled them for Tuesday.”

“Tuesday is acceptable.”

“And there are rumblings from the outer settlements. Discontent about the executions.”

That pulled his attention back. “What kind of rumblings?”

“Mostly low-level. A few of the houses that lost kin in the courtyard have been gathering. Voicing things in private that they would not voice in the hall. Nothing yet that requires a response. I will continue to monitor.”

“You will, indeed.” He frowned at the parchment in his hand without really reading it. It was troubling that his court was still rippling from the executions. He had thought they would settle. Six men had died, justly, and there should be no rebellion in the air over a king’s lawful judgment.

And yet…

“Keep me current,” he ordered. “If those rumblings start to take shape, I want it known before it takes a face.”

“Yes, my king.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of rumblings, the outer settlements are reporting ground-shake," Kali continued.

“When?”

“Earlier today. Brief—seconds only. Undoubtedly, the realm settling as the barriers shift.”

“Of course,” he said. “But continue to monitor.”

She inclined her head. “Of course, my lord.”

A discreet knock sounded at the chamber door.

“Enter.”

A young servant boy slipped in with a silver tray topped by a carafe of dark wine and a single goblet. He set it on the side table, bowed nearly to the floor, and was gone in an instant, as all well-trained servants should be. Adric considered the carafe for a moment. He had thought, when he had requested it, that Kali would be gone by now, and he would drink the wine alone at the window while the realm wound down into evening. And in those moments, as he sipped his wine, he had intended to quietly miss his betrothed.

Now, though, with Kali still at his elbow, his evening was taking a less enticing direction.

He waved a hand. “Continue.”

Kali’s eyes flicked to the carafe. Then back to her ledger. “The stable master reports two injured wyverns. A dragon attack, he believes, from when they were last released to hunt.”

Adric frowned, thinking of the loyal creatures, so much like smaller versions of dragons themselves. They were used primarily by the staff as mounts for routine patrolling, and they were an essential part of the running of the castle.

“Send Solenne,” he said, referring to the castle’s best healer, who had, in fact, tended to Chase. “She has a way with the wyverns.”

“I will.”

“What else?”