Page 165 of A Legacy of the Light

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Forty minutes later, Tavish slips his fingers into mine as we walk the bare corridors to meet his father. We’re forty minutes instead of thirty because Tavish decided he needed to shower with me instead of waiting his turn and we got distracted. The way the water cascaded down his torso practically forced me to my knees to show him what he does to me, and then he returned the favor.

I release his hand as we approach the guarded door to the rest of the palace.

“What are you doing?” he asks, taking my hand again.

“Your father doesn’t want us together, remember?” I reply.

“I don’t give a fuck what he wants, Elsie. You’re mine now.” He clasps my fingers tightly. “Besides, he’ll be able to scent me on you, even with the shower.”

“Ummm what?” I ask.

“You’ll be able to eventually as well, you’re just not used to separating out people’s smells yet.”

He might be right. Except I would know his scent anywhere. It’s imprinted on my mind.

We walk through the palace hand in hand. Staff stare as we walk by, and I feel myself shrinking with each pair of eyes that peer our way.

“Don’t,” Tavish admonishes. He hasn’t even looked at me since we stepped beyond the guards. How does he know? He pulls me to a stop in the circular chamber and pushes a strand of still drying hair off my face. “You are a warrior and a queen.”

I open my mouth to challenge him, to say I’m neither of those things, regardless of the claim that lies in my blood.

He gently places a finger over my lips. “I would make you my queen if you stayed. And a queen bows before no one.”

My heart trips and falls, and my stomach knots with tension. Partly because he doesn’t know the whole truth, and partly for a whole other reason.

“Ready?” he asks, running the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

I nod and stand taller, letting his words sink into my bones.

“All that is, belongs to you,” says a whisper in the back of my mind, agreeing with Tavish.

“That’s my girl.” He drops a kiss to my forehead and we walk into the throne room to meet King Raghnall.

“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting,” the king snarls from his throne. Hume stands off to his left, his arms crossed and a pleased expression on his face.

“Apologies, Father, the fault is mine,” Tavish replies sharply.

Raghnall zeros in on where our hands are joined. His nostrils flare and his angry gaze finds mine.

“Disobey me and there will be consequences.”

The threat he made at breakfast hangs in the air between us.

I bow as we approach the dais. “Your Majesty,” I say, and I ready myself for what he’s about to say.

I couldn’t stop the smug feeling if I wanted to, watching Raghnall flick his stare between me and Tavish, trying to find the right words. He hates this. He hates that Tavish has chosen me when he was explicitly told to stay away from me. The king’s anger forms a palpable energy around him. He visibly tenses, his eye twitching as it does when he is displeased. Then, he relaxes back into the cracked golden throne of Elfayne.

The quick shift in his mood, the sudden dismissal of me and Tavish being together, and the look on his advisor’s face makes the hair on the back of my neck stand.

Something isn’t right.

“The barrier has shown signs of weakness. It is expected to open in five days.”

The smugness, the happiness I felt since last night, the warmth in my heart, is destroyed by Raghnall with two simple sentences.

I’m going home.