by Serena Rose
The room was dim and silent, a balm to her senses. She walked around the bookshelves that lined the walls, letting her fingers trail over the leather bindings of the books and stopping occasionally to look at titles that interested her.
There were a lot of books about history and philosophy, which seemed like the sort of things a prince might want to know, but there were also several volumes of poetry that Alaia might have wanted to read herself. The door opened, and she looked up expecting Zorion, but it was only the butler, Alain, who was obviously startled to see her there.
“Apologies, m’lady. Master Itzal told me that the Prince would be needing a bath. I've brought the kettle.”
“Er… he’ll be here in a bit. I can take the kettle for you,” she said sheepishly. “Is the washbasin already full?”
“Yes, m’lady,” he said, handing her the oversized iron kettle wrapped in a towel. She carried it to the small bathing room with some difficulty and poured it into the cool water in the basin. Inviting herb-scented steam drifted upward, and Alaia sighed. A bath suddenly sounded like the perfect thing to ease her tension. Maude might have even drawn one for her, except that she was busy with the blasted seating arrangements.
“Alaia?” Zorion’s voice called from the main room. Before she could answer, he was already at the door, waving the steam away from his face.
“Sorry,” she said, feeling like she’d been caught trespassing. “The butler brought the kettle, so I thought I may as well pour it in.”
“That’s fine,” he replied, “Though it would have also been fine to let him do it. It sounds like you’ve had a difficult day. Lorea stopped me in the hall.”
Alaia winced, remembering how she’d stormed out a few minutes earlier. “I lost my temper. I should go apologize,” she said with a sigh. Zorion stopped her by gently taking her hand. Once again, she noticed the heat of his skin.
“It’s all right, Alaia. They shouldn’t have asked you to help with something so difficult when you were busy with a crying baby, and furthermore, there’s no reason for you to involve yourself in the seating arrangements unless you want to. Lorea and Maude have all the information they need and much more experience than you in those matters.”
She sagged. “I suppose, but I want to be able to help. I hate feeling useless.” He laughed, not in a cruel way.
“I know, but you have plenty to do with the children as it is. I don’t think you need to give yourself more jobs to do just to feel like you’re contributing.” His expression turned more serious, and he brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “You have to take care of yourself, first and foremost. You’ve lost weight, and there are dark circles under your eyes.”
She met his eyes and reached up with her free hand to touch his cheek. “You aren’t doing a good job of following your own advice, sir. I don’t think you’ve had a decent night’s sleep in a month.”
“Perhaps not,” he said with a wry smile. “But I made the choice to lead a rebellion against the king, so I must prepare as best I can. You’ve had all this nonsense thrust upon you.”
“It’s not all nonsense,” she said, moving her arms around his waist, and he hissed with pain. “What is it?” It was only then that she noticed that his jacket was torn.
“Itzal and I ran into a little trouble on our way home. Not the first time someone has tried to assassinate me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” he said, and she knew he was trying to make light of it so as not to worry her.
“Let me see it,” she said, scowling at him. “You should have had someone tend to you right away, instead of taking the baby.”
“It’s only a scratch,” he said, but he took his jacket off, throwing it over the back of a chair, and pulled his shirt over his head. “I didn’t dodge quite fast enough. At least it wasn’t poisoned this time.” Alaia’s heart grew cold at that thought, and she shook her head to dispel it.
She leaned down to peer at the wound in his side, wetting a rag in the tub so she could wipe the blood away. It really wasn’t as bad as she’d feared; the cut was clean and straight, not deep enough to see muscle even at its worst, and it had already stopped bleeding.
“Make sure you have someone bandage it after your bath,” she said tersely. “Otherwise you’ll end up bleeding all over your shirts.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said in a serious tone, but his eyes were twinkling. Her heart flopped erratically in her chest. Now that she was sure he wasn’t in danger, she became almost supernaturally aware of the way his bare skin glowed in the light streaming through the window, the beads of condensation on his shoulders.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it,” she said, her voice gone a bit shrill. He smiled and took her hand again.
“You don’t have to go. If anyone here could use a relaxing bath, it’s you.” For a moment, all of her thoughts came to a crashing halt. A voice inside her protested the impropriety, but she squashed it. Plenty of young women had lovers, and she and Zorion were about to be married. They already had children, for god’s sake. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to be with him. He had caught her off guard with the invitation, but she wondered if he expected her to decline.
“All right,” she said with a playful half-smile. His eyes widened, and it pleased her to know she’d surprised him. There was a moment of pause, neither of them sure what to do next.
“Should I help you with your clothes?” Zorion asked finally, his lips curling upward mischievously. Her first instinct was to refuse, her cheeks on fire, but why, she asked herself. Her heart was pounding, but it wasn’t fear she was feeling.
“If you’d like,” she said, and he drew in a sharp breath as she stepped toward him. Her gown was simple today, tied up the waist and laced with a ribbon at the front, so she wasn’t worried that he’d be put off by the complexities of her outfit, if that was even possible.
Perhaps he’d had other lovers, but she wouldn’t let her mind go down that road. He closed the space between them, wrapping an arm around her waist as their lips met. She hadn't felt a kiss like that since Heartfire, fierce and hungry with yearning. His fingers worked the laces of her bodice, and she smoothed her hands over his chest and shoulders. She’d nearly forgotten how good his skin felt under her fingers. He froze, drawing a sharp breath against her mouth, and she didn’t understand until he lifted the ring in his fingers, the one that she’d been wearing against her heart since before she’d even known she was carrying his children.
“You kept it,” he murmured, in a tone that vibrated through her heart as if she were a lute that he was strumming.
“Of course, I did,” she said, smiling at him. “I never wanted to forget that night.” His next kiss was almost bruising with the strength of his emotions, and she reciprocated in kind, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one who’d suffered many lonely nights in the past year.
His mouth moved down her neck, leaving a trail of warmth over her throat, on her clavicle, on the swell of her breast. She gasped and slid her fingers into his hair. “I suppose we should get into the water before it gets cold,” he murmured. Her dress fell open as the ribbon at her waist was undone, and she let it slide to the floor. Clad only in her shift, goosebumps rose on her skin in the cold air.
“Maybe I ought to help you with your clothes as well,” she said, letting her fingers trail down to his waist.
“I wouldn't mind that at all,” he replied in a low voice. She fumbled a bit at the laces of his breeches, but then she was slipping them over his hips, sliding her fingers deliberately over his thighs. He shivered as he loosened the ribbon at her neck pushing the shift over her shoulders and down to the floor.
Her body had changed with motherhood, she knew, and there was a small voice in her head that worried what he would think. But Zorion didn’t seem to care. “I nearly forgot how lovely you are,” he said, pulling her flush against him, and the sensation of their bare skin pressed together made her sigh with pleasure.
&nbs
p; However, Alaia hadn't completely forgotten their original objective. “Come on, before it turns to ice,” she said, nudging him towards the tub. The water was still warm, but the metal basin was small for two people. After some splashing and tangling of limbs, Zorion pulled her back against his chest with his legs encircling her. It was as comfortable as it was tantalizing. He pressed his lips to the curve of her neck and held both of her hands in his.
“I thought I might never be this close to you again,” he murmured against her skin. “I cannot find words to tell you how happy I am right now.”
“I'm happy too,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him and reaching back to caress his cheek. His mouth met her palm, sending tingles all the way down her arm. She turned in his lap to meet his lips with the next kiss, and his arms flexed around her when his tongue slipped into her mouth. As he pulled away, she caught his lower lip between her teeth, and he groaned.
“Alaia,” he breathed. His pupils were wide and dark, and she could see herself reflected in them, like she was the only person in the world. He kissed her throat and she let her head fall back as his fingers whispered over her collarbone to her breast, brushing over her nipple and then pinching it lightly until she gasped.
The warmth in her belly was already eclipsing the heat of the bathwater, and she shivered with anticipation as his hand moved lower. His teeth grazed her neck, right where her pulse raced under the skin, and it was like a jolt of pleasure between her legs. She let out a startled moan, her back arching, and she could feel Zorion’s mouth curve against her skin.
His hand moved lower, cupping between her legs, and she pressed herself against him, suddenly desperate for more. Fingers slipped between her lower lips, slick even under the water, and skimmed against the tender center of her ecstasy. She let out a frustrated whimper which turned into a groan when his fingers curled inside her. The heel of his hand pressed into her, making slow circles that wound her insides like a spring. Release was close.
“Zorion,” she said, on a breathless moan. “I can’t…”
He kissed her neck, the hand that wasn’t between her legs stroking her breast. “Just let it come, my love,” he whispered in her ear. Her heart constricted at the words, and he touched a place inside her that made all her muscles contract. The climax roared through her body, and she clenched around his fingers. His movement drove the peak higher and higher until she thought she’d go mad.
She writhed in exquisite agony, gasping and whimpering, and he pulled away, lazily sliding his hand up her belly. Her bones felt like they might dissolve into the bathwater and she lay in his arms in contented exhaustion for several minutes.
“Life seems much easier now, does it not?” he said, smiling down at her.
“I do feel somewhat kindlier towards the world, yes,” she admitted, smiling back. “But what about you? Surely you could use the same sort of relaxation?” She turned to face him, kneeling between his legs, and she could feel his arousal, hard where it was pressed between their bodies.
“I’m not in any hurry to escape,” he said, his voice low and rough. Alaia chuckled and kissed him, letting her hands caress the planes of his chest and abdomen. She’d always wished she’d taken more time to explore his body on Heartfire, and now was her chance to remedy that.
Her fingers traced patterns around his navel, and his muscles twitched in anticipation. She slid her hand downward, and his throat bobbed as her fingers moved through the coarse curls there. It was a heady, powerful feeling, having him at her mercy like this, but she didn’t intend to make him suffer for long. She ran her fingers over his manhood, and he trembled as she made a slow circle around the tip before caressing down to the root. He groaned as she grasped him lightly in her hand.
She stroked him slowly, not entirely sure what she was doing, but he wasn’t complaining. His head fell back and he groaned out her name, so low it was almost a growl. The sound of his pleasure made her insides throb. She pressed herself against his body again, his skin lightly sheened with sweat now, and kissed up the line of his throat.
He rocked his hips against her, already missing her touch. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and his erection pressed against her already oversensitive entrance. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as she lowered herself onto him, and he gripped the sides of the tub with white knuckles.
“Alaia,” he gasped, and his arms came around her, sliding up her back and tangling in her hair. He filled her so perfectly; it was like they were made for this exact purpose of coming together. They moved as one being, their instincts guiding them in an ancient rhythm, a give and take that ignited the waiting embers of need and bliss inside her.
It was better even than the first time because she wasn’t nervous at all. She knew him, maybe not all of him, but she understood his heart, and she knew exactly what she wanted. They had plenty of time.
They kissed until their lips were bruised, until they were panting for breath, and when the climax finally came, it was like the blooming of a flower that burst into flames, the final pulses of rapture so intense that Alaia cried out, and Zorion called her name as his release followed hers. They clung together for several long moments, and she could hear his heart racing under her ear. He ran his fingers through her hair, until he accidentally put his hand in the water. “It’s well and truly cold now,” he said, laughing softly and kissing her forehead. “And rather a lot of it is on the floor.”
“Yes, but I am in a much better mood,” she said, smiling up at him.
“Good,” he replied with a satisfied grin, and they disentangled themselves to get out of the tub. He handed her a towel from a nearby shelf, but she was so busy watching him rub himself dry that she hardly thought about herself.
He looked up at her, his expression serious and thoughtful, but with an edge of softness. “I meant what I said. There’s nothing about the wedding that requires your personal attention except for your own clothes. You have plenty to deal with as it is. Lorea and Maude can handle most everything else and simply get your approval for the big decisions.”
“I don’t want to leave everything up to Lorea,” she protested, “But I will try not to get overwhelmed. Being left out of the seating problem is relief enough. I was thinking about getting a wet nurse, like you suggested earlier.” He was starting to dress, and it broke her from her trance enough to pick her shift from the floor and drop it over her head. It was a bit damp, but it would do to get back to her room.
“It was actually Maude’s idea,” he said, looking up from lacing his pants. “I’ll ask her about it later. Or you can ask her yourself, if you see her first.” She nodded and pulled her dress back over her head. It seemed strange to just go back to their day as if nothing had happened. Zorion seemed to agree. As she was tying the ribbon at her waist, he came and put his arms around her waist.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he said, “But Itzal expected me probably an hour ago. I’m surprised he didn’t barge right in. I’m sure you need to get back to the children as well.”
“They’ll be getting hungry soon,” she agreed, but she put her arms around his neck. “Perhaps you can come and see us later.”
“I will,” he said, kissing her softly. “I’ll come to you tonight.” Alaia went back to her room just in time for Naia to wake up and demand feeding, and that led to an hour of nursing and changing the children.
Lorea came by later, to apologize for not realizing how overwhelmed she was, and Alaia apologized for losing her temper. With matters between them settled, Lorea went happily back to planning the dinner menu. Maude said that she would find a night nurse by the end of the week, with Itzal’s help. Everything seemed to be falling into place.
And late that night, just after what Alaia hoped was the final feeding session until morning, she heard the creak of the door and the sound of quiet footfalls. She sat up, her heat pounding. It was hard to forget that someone had tried to kill Zorion a few hours previously. But it was him, putting a finger
to his lips.
A moment later, he climbed into bed beside her, his skin still chilled from the night air. She knew he’d been flying. He kissed her hair as she settled against his chest. After that night, they never slept apart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heartfire came and went. This year, she and Zorion lit the lantern above his bed, and thanks to the new night nurse, Maite, they spent the night uninterrupted. The weeks passed. Izar was the first to sit up on her own, but the other two children followed soon after. They began to babble nonsensical sounds at each other, which were amusing to everyone, and it kept them happy. Preparations for the wedding rose to a fever pitch, and then the day arrived.
Alaia woke to Zorion’s lips on her cheek. The rosy fingers of dawn were just caressing the horizon, and it was time to start preparations. It was less difficult to bid him farewell than on other mornings, since she knew she’d be seeing him soon enough. She nursed the children just as they were waking, and then handed them off to Galena and Maite.
Though both Alaia and Zorion would have liked to have the children at the wedding, as they felt the time to hide their existence has passed, Itzal had convinced them that it was too difficult and dangerous to keep three infants safe amidst such a crowd.
So, Galena and Maite would stay with them, and Zorion’s guards would block off the whole floor. There were no secret passages into the bedroom, so they were as safe as they could be. Alaia kissed each of their cheeks, receiving cooing burbles in return, and went into the bathroom to start preparing. Maude had filled her bathwater with lavender and rose hips, and she hummed as she washed Alaia’s hair. If she hadn’t been so keyed up with anticipation, she might have been soothed right back to sleep.
