Arthur sighed and looked around the room. "I was hoping Rogan would be here to help me change. This is getting awfully uncomfortable."
She beckoned him behind the curtain. "I'll help you. No big deal."
He hesitated at the door. "I am not certain that is appropriate, my lady."
Aiofe scoffed at him and tangled her fingers in his cloak. She tugged, pulling him in behind the curtain and closed it all the way. "Don't be silly. Come here." She unhooked his cloak and it slid from his shoulders, landing in a pile at his feet. Next, she removed his belt, sword and all, and placed it on the table. The jacket was a bit trickier with all its buttons and hooks, but between the two of them they got it off. He stood there in front of her in just his shirt and pants, and her in her dressing gown.
Her cheeks flushed as she looked up, meeting his clear blue eyes. He was so handsome, so amazing. He would die for her, she could feel it deep in her soul. This was the man she could trust completely with her mind, body, and soul. Gasping, she pulled away and walked to the window. The moon was bright, casting an eery glow on the empty training yard below.
"What is it, my love?" Arthur slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.
She leaned back, resting her head against his shoulder. The horror of the day played once more before her, her grandparents nearly murdered side by side, her father's confession, Kay's sacrifice. Tears sprang to her eyes, rolling unabated down her cheeks.
"Do you love me, Arthur? I mean, really love me?" She turned in his arms, placing her hands on his chest as she looked pleadingly up at him.
He stared at her for a moment before responding. "Yes, I do. With all my heart."
Her body began to sing as he spoke. Pushing up onto her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, softly at first. He cupped a hand around her back and returned her kiss with force, parting her lips and slipping his tongue in to attack hers. She lifted her leg, wrapping it around his and his hand went to it, gripping it tightly. He lifted her and carried her gently to the bed. As he lay her down, the dressing gown slipped from her shoulders. He paused, his eyes trailing down her bared skin.
“I cannot do this, Aiofe,” he whispered, pushing himself over to sit beside her. “I cannot treat you like a common whore.”
“What?” Aiofe pushed herself up as she yanked the fabric back over to cover herself. “A common whore? I'm not a--”
“No, you are not.” He took her hand. “You are a beautiful and magnificent woman and I am going to treat you as such.”
Aiofe scoffed. “That's stupid. I'm not--”
He pressed a finger to her lips and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love you, Aiofe, and I will not ruin this moment for you.” He stood and gathered his clothing. “I will stay in Kay's room for the time being, until we get this all settled.
“But--”
Arthur smiled at her. “Good night, Aiofe.” Without another word, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing across the stone.
Frustrated in more ways than one, she flopped back onto the bed and yanked the covers over her. The day's chaos washed over her in a wave of exhaustion and despite her irritation and sadness, she fell easily into a deep, dreamless sleep.
*~*~*
EPILOGUE
*~*~*
"Be careful, you oaf!" Leanansidhe swung out at the creature leaning over her, the faery's thin fingers probing delicately at the wound in her pelvis. She deftly ducked her head to one side, the shoulder-length vines waving with the motion.
"Please stop trying to hit me," the faery asked politely in her most perfect bedside manner. She took a long scalpel off a wooden tray beside the bed and poked it into the hole.
Leanansidhe growled and clenched her teeth as her fist clenched another poor faery sitting beside her. This one was small and thick, like a sapling with arms and legs. Lea had her hand wrapped around what passed for its neck and throttled it every time pain blossomed up her body.
"Stop trying to hurt me and I will stop trying to hit you," she growled, shaking the tree creature for emphasis.
The doctor glanced up at Leanansidhe's victim, then back at the woman. "Killing him will not do you any good, I am afraid. He is not the one who keeps getting into fights." The faery shoved a small stick into the wound before poking a needle through Lea's skin, not bothering with anesthetic. "And losing, I might add." She bobbed her head again, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"I should kill you for that."
"But you will not," the willowy faery retorted, dragging the vines attached to the needle through the skin. The green strings bound the wound together, growing into the skin and becoming one with it, working as adhesive, antiseptic, and growth agent all in one.
The dark faery glared at her doctor, wishing she could do just that, but the swamp elves were the best healers in the land, and they were very picky about who they chose to work with. She was lucky to find one willing to put up with her and she could not deny the faery knew what she was doing. The knife had been dipped in iron and the poison roared through Lea's veins. The stick would absorb the iron and convert it into food which would then be absorbed by the vine. She would be in pain for a few days, but eventually the vines would dissolve completely and she would be as good as new. She moved her shoulder a bit to remind herself of the doctor's abilities, jerking her hand intentionally to make the wood faery squeal.
The doctor tied a small knot in the vines and clipped off the end. "There," she said as she slapped a green patch of woven algae over the area for added protection. "Good as new."
Lea grunted and threw the log to the floor. It scrambled to its feet and ran from the room, jabbering all the way in its irritatingly high pitched language. Lea threw a pitcher, just barely missing the creature as it burst out the door. "I hate that thing," she mumbled.
"You hate everything," the doctor quipped. "Here, use this until your leg feels better. And do not do anything stupid until it heals. Do you hear me?"
Lea took the walking cane the doctor offered and waved a hand at her. "Yes, yes, I hear you." She stood up, testing the weight on her leg. She hobbled the few steps to her armoire and pulled out a long black dress. She snapped and a pixie appeared beside her and took the dress, ready to help her put it on.
"Where are you going?" The doctor stood in the doorway, a pale fist on her hip, the other holding her bag. She frowned at Leanansidhe with raised green eyebrows.
"Nowhere," said the faery as the pixie tied sandals to her feet.
The doctor shook her head. "Why do I bother." She left, letting the door slam shut behind her.
"Your highness, maybe you should..."
Leanansidhe turned her deadly glare on the pixie at her feet. She raised an eyebrow, a snarl on her lips. "Maybe I should what?"
The little faery began to shake and struggled to tie the last knot. "Nothing, your highness. Have a wonderful day."
The pixie jumped up and darted to the corner, settling herself onto the chair there and purposefully avoiding Lea's hard stare. With a snort, Leanansidhe picked up the walking cane and a piece of paper off her nightstand and made her best attempt to stomp from the room. Stomping was very difficult to achieve with a cane and pain at every step and by the time she reached the door, she was bubbling with anger.
"Borton!" Her howl echoed down the halls, bouncing off the stone and carrying through the castle. She was barely five feet from her door when her assistance came scurrying around a corner.
"Yes, m'lady, I mean, miss, I mean my queen. How may I help you, my queen?" He bowed repeatedly, practically grovelling at her feet.
She swung a foot to kick him, but her balance was off and she had to catch herself with the cane. She held the paper out, waving it in front of his face. "Go here. There are bones buried inside. The name is on the paper. Bring me those bones, all of them. Do you understand? I want all of them."
Borton took the paper and, still bowing, backed down the hall. "Yes, miss, m'lady, your
highness. I will be back soon."
Leanansidhe shook her head and began the long trek to her lab, mumbling about how she employed idiots. She was working on a sobbing faery when he returned, a large box in his arms. Lea dropped the scalpel she had in her hand and went to him, lifting the lid. "You have them all?" she asked.
He nodded furiously, making the bones rattle against each other. "All of them, my queen."
"Very good. Bring them over here." She walked across the lab to a clean table. Borton placed the box on it and opened the lid, reaching for one of the bones inside. Lea swatted his hand hard with the cane, hearing a faint crack. He dragged his hand away, puppy dog hurt in his eyes. "No touching," she scolded, pointing the cane at him. He nodded and backed into a corner, squatting down to watch her work.
She laid all the bones out on the table in proper order, recreating the skeleton they had once been. When she reached the feet, she scowled. Checking the empty box once more, she turned on Borton. "I told you to get all of the bones!" She waved the cane in front of his face as he cowered in front of her.
"I did, I did! I swear it, m'lady, my highness, your queen! I did!" He clapped his hands over his ears and rocked on his haunches, peeking up at her.
Lea groaned and turned to look at her incomplete skeleton. Two toes were missing from the left foot. She couldn't perform the ritual without a complete skeleton. Tapping the cane on the floor, she looked around her lab until her eyes fell on the crying faery. It was blue and covered in fur, but it was mostly humanoid. She shuffled over to it and examined its feet. The toes were slightly larger than her skeleton's should be, but they would have to do. Grabbing a cleaver from the table, she hacked off two of the digits, ignoring the howling protests of the creature they belonged to, then she dropped them in a vat of acid to burn away the flesh. After fishing the newly cleaned bones from the bubbling liquid, she attached them to her skeleton and grinned.
"Perfect."
With Borton's help, she arranged herbs around the table in particular fashion, then stood at the end, her hands on the skull. She began to chant, very slowly and quietly at first, but her volume picked up as her speed quickened. Soon, she was shouting so fast her tongue could barely keep up. Her hands were vibrating and she could feel the energy draining from her body, but she did not stop. Her eyes stayed locked on the bones as flesh began to grow among them, binding them together and forming muscles and organs. Skin slithered over the entire body to cover the insides and blond hair sprouted from the head, trailing out in long cascading waves.
Lea felt when the last piece was in place and stopped, pulling her hands away from the new woman's head. The faery was breathing hard, so weak she could barely stand, but she forced herself to walk the length of the table, examining the body. It was exquisite, perfectly formed, beauty beyond compare. Aside from the two blue, furry toes. Lea scowled at them, almost ready to throttle Borton, when the body gasped and sat up. Blue eyes darted around the room until they found Lea.
Lea walked up to the girl, cupping the soft cheek in her hand, the smile of a mother greeting her daughter on her face. "Hello, Guinevere," she said.
*~*~*
Thank you for reading The Iron Locket.
If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to write a review on your favorite bookseller website and share with your friends!
Pick up Queen of Hearts, book 2, today!
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LDXYKUE
Also available, Sir Kay and the White Lady, a Risen King short
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KFQOXUC
*~*~*
*~*~*
OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR
*~*~*
Battle of Black River
Blood of the Dragon
Winds from the North
Vampire Assassin (Jane #1)
New Blood (Jane #2)
Blood & Tears (Jane #3)
Redemption (Jane #4)
Til Death (Jane #5)
Blood Moon (Jane #6)
A Magical Christmas (Jane #6.5)
Cursed (Jane #7)
Witchfire (Jane #8)
Blood Feud (Jane #9)
Bloodshed (Jane #10)
The Seven Keys of Alaesha
*~*~*
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
*~*~*
Samantha Warren is a fantasy and science fiction author who spends her days immersed in dragons, space ships, and vampires. With her pet dragon, Anethesis, she ventured to the ends of the universe, but the cost of space travel cut into her sock fetish fund, so she sold her ship and returned home. When she isn’t writing, she’s milking cows or trying to feed them Pop-Tarts. She spends a lot of time in her weed patch (aka: garden), watching any show featuring Gordon Ramsay, or posting random things on her blog.
Interested in contacting Samantha?
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: @_SamanthaWarren
Blog: http://www.samantha-warren.com
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The Iron Locket (The Risen King) Page 18
