He still didn’t know how they would make a relationship work, but if she wanted to marry him, Jev would talk to her father—and his—and find a way to get the old man to accept her as a daughter-in-law. To walk away from his responsibilities would be unthinkable—and dishonorable—but he could do his best to change his father’s mind. He had to try. For Zenia. And for him. To marry someone else and work every day at her side… He couldn’t imagine anything making him more miserable.
“Need to tell her that,” he mumbled and turned his head.
His skull ached—everything did—but that didn’t keep him from looking around the room, hoping to find her sitting in a chair, waiting for him to wake up.
But the room was devoid of furniture, of everything except cabinets and a dresser with a pitcher and wash basin on it. Disappointment filled him.
A soft knock sounded, and the door opened.
Zenia poked her head inside, and Jev’s disappointment disappeared. He smiled and lifted his arms, not caring that they were heavier than boulders and covered with a sheet.
Returning his smile, Zenia stepped inside and up to the side of his bed. She bent and hugged him carefully. He had no interest in care, not at that moment. He hugged her hard, pulling her down against him, hoping to keep her close forever.
She smelled good—was that lavender? She must have washed since their adventures in the swamp. He hoped he didn’t smell of mud and explosives. Even if he did, she didn’t seem to care. She turned her head to kiss his cheek, and a shiver of delight went through him.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“I’ve been outside your door the whole time, except for a few minutes to wash up. And that only because Rhi insisted. She said my earthy troll-bedewed odor would seep under your door and prevent you from healing.”
He snorted. “What about my troll-bedewed odor?”
“You took that bath in the ocean. I also walked in once to find one of the healers sponging off your blood and grime with loving tenderness.” She quirked an eyebrow.
“One of the healers sponged me? Was it the man or the woman?”
“The woman. Disappointed?”
“Only that it wasn’t you. I’ll let you sponge me later if you want.” He grinned. She had straightened, letting her arms loosen around him, but her hand remained on his chest. He placed his hand over hers, claiming it. And her. “I’m naked under this sheet, you know.”
“Sounds drafty.”
He couldn’t tell if she liked the idea of him naked under the sheet or not. He supposed he shouldn’t assume that because she’d said she loved him she wanted to engage in any physical activities. There was still her vow to herself, after all. She also could have meant… he grimaced. What if she’d been talking about platonic love?
“Are you still in pain?” she asked, misreading the reason for his grimace.
“Not too much. I was trying decide if I’d heard—uhm, interpreted—you correctly when we were on the dock. I was a little dazed.” He gazed into her eyes, seeking a clue.
Would she pretend it hadn’t happened? He was sure it had, dazed or not. She’d been a beautiful sight, bending over him, touching him, and he’d burned it into his memory.
She gazed back at him, then smiled and bent low again. Her lips parted, and she kissed him, not on the cheek this time.
His soul sang as he returned the kiss with all the feeling in his battered body. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, again vowing to find a way, so long as she was willing.
A loud knock sounded, more like a banging, and Zenia withdrew. Far, far too soon. But she was still smiling down at him, her eyes twinkling, and he allowed himself to believe there would be more kisses soon.
The door opened.
“Is he going to live?” came Cutter’s gruff voice, “or are we going to have to cut him up and sacrifice him to a troll?”
“I have other plans for him,” Zenia said as Cutter ambled in.
“Are they sexual plans?” Rhi asked as she walked in behind Cutter.
A third figure slipped in behind them, a green cloak wrapped around his body and his hood up over his silver hair. Lornysh.
“He’s an injured man,” Zenia said. “That would be inappropriate.”
“I bet he could rally himself.” Rhi winked at Jev.
He didn’t wink back, but the thought, Yes, yes, I could, passed through his mind.
“Our desks have likely been filling up with paperwork while we’ve been off having adventures,” Zenia said. “He’ll need time to recover, so I thought I’d have him hold folders while I organize everything.”
“He’s too injured for sex but not for physical labor?” Rhi asked.
Jev lifted a finger. “I’m not too injured for sex.”
“Holding folders isn’t physical labor,” Zenia said, ignoring him. “They’re lightweight.”
“I’ve seen your desks. There’s at least fifty pounds of paper on them today.”
“He can sit down while he holds the folders.”
Cutter came up to the opposite side of Jev’s bed and prodded him in the shoulder with the top of his hook. “You might want to stay in bed a while longer. These women are making odious plans for you.”
“So I hear.”
“My plans weren’t odious,” Rhi said. “I was trying to get someone under the sheets with him. Zenia’s the one talking about folders.”
Lornysh crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall by the door, as if to guard the way in. Or maybe to show that he was far too mature for this conversation.
“I see that you’re doing fine, Cutter,” Jev said. “Did someone heal you?”
“Yes, I was in a room down the hall.”
“Is Master Grindmor all right?”
“Yes, Targyon had his personal physician heal her. She’s important, you know. He also invited the rest of the dwarves up to the castle until they’re able to go out into the city and start their shops. He’s promised to replace the tools they brought over that were lost in the explosion—alas, our brilliant steamship is on the bottom of the harbor now.”
“Hundreds of dwarves roaming around the castle?” Rhi asked. “They’ll destroy the place.”
“More likely remodel it,” Jev said, thinking of the plumbing and fancy bathroom in Iridium’s underground lair. He believed that had been one of the favors she’d wheedled out of Master Grindmor.
“Think they can put some windows in our office?” Zenia asked. “It’s very dark even when all the lamps are lit.”
“It’s the basement office of a secret organization nobody is supposed to know about,” Jev said. “It’s supposed to be dark and easy to forget about.”
“If I could see better, I’d be more efficient at organizing the paperwork. You wouldn’t have to hold folders for as long.”
“Cutter,” Jev said, “how are your people at windows?”
Cutter scratched his jaw with the tip of his hook. “Dwarves don’t have much need for windows. We live in underground cities.”
“How do you do paperwork down there in the dark?” Zenia asked.
“Dwarves aren’t much for paperwork. Most orders and agreements are verbal.”
“How can I visit this wondrous place?” Jev asked.
Zenia shot him a dirty look. He smiled beatifically at her.
“You’d need a dwarf to accompany you down, or the guards would send rock golems after you,” Cutter said.
“Then it’s fortunate that I know a dwarf.”
“Ah, but I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Did I tell you?” Cutter leaned forward, gripping the edge of the bed with his hand. “Master Grindmor decided that I might be worth training. She said to come to her shop first thing next week and she’d test me and see if I have any skills worth honing.”
“Might?” Zenia asked.
Cutter’s blissful expression suggested he believed he would be taken on. Or maybe he was simply delighted to be given a chance.
&nbs
p; “The last I heard,” Jev told Zenia, “our grumpy master was insulting Cutter’s beard, so this seems to be an improvement in their relationship.”
“She’s not grumpy. She’s focused. And rightfully stern with young dwarves.” Yes, Cutter’s expression was definitely blissful. “All these years I’ve waited to meet her and implore her to take me on, and it’s finally going to happen. I’m certain. I’ll prove to her that my skills are masterful. Oh, but I’m rusty.” He leaned back from the bed. “I better go practice.” He hurried for the door. “Get well, Jev.”
“I’ll endeavor to do so.”
“Dwarves are quirky, aren’t they?” Rhi remarked after Cutter left, the door slamming shut behind him.
“Monks are not quirky?” Lornysh asked, speaking for the first time.
“Of course not. But I’m not a monk anymore. I’m an agent, hoping some captain of the agents will teach me what I’m supposed to do all day at work besides run errands for that zyndar blowhard.”
“I assume she means Garlok and not me,” Jev said.
Rhi smiled blandly at him.
“Now that things have settled down,” Zenia said, “at least for the moment, maybe we can start a training program.”
“Have they settled down?” Jev thought of the trolls in the swamp. They might have rescued Grindmor and kept Kor’s tenuous relationship with the dwarves from evaporating, but the kingdom might still face the threat of an invasion. “The trolls?”
“Targyon sent a zyndar captain—Krox, I believe his name was—to lead some army troops into the swamp and deal with the troll infestation problem,” Zenia said. “If they were indeed just scouts, maybe the main force will decide to abort their invasion plans if those scouts don’t return.”
“Let’s hope,” Jev murmured. “Lornysh, do you think the elven ambassador will come back if the troll problem disappears? I know Targyon would like a chance to reestablish relations with your people.”
“They may not be ready for that for quite some time, but I’m certain they will want to station another ambassador in your capital city to keep an eye on you. We—” Lornysh stopped and frowned toward the window.
A cloud had drifted over the sun, stealing the brightness in the room, but Jev hadn’t heard anything. Lornysh walked to the window and peered outside.
Jev looked at Rhi and Zenia. They shrugged back.
“I must go.” Lornysh backed away from the window and yanked his hood over his head. “Watch out for strangers, and stay safe.”
He left as swiftly as Cutter had, though the door shut with a whisper instead of a slam.
“Elves are also quirky,” Rhi announced.
Jev wondered how he could get Rhi and her quirky observations to follow the others out of the room and leave him alone with Zenia. He appreciated that everyone had come to visit, but that kiss had been quite lovely, and he would enjoy resuming it.
He gazed up at her like a love-smitten teenager. Maybe she would convince Rhi to step outside. She smiled back down at him and patted his arm. That wasn’t quite what he’d wanted her to do.
Another knock sounded. Jev sighed immensely.
“How does everybody know I’m awake now?” he wondered.
“My dragon tear told me,” Zenia said, her face assuming that uncertain expression she got when she wasn’t positive everything her gem could do was a good thing. “I’m not sure how everyone else found out.”
He remembered the dreams she’d confessed she was having. Had she dozed enough last night to have another one? Maybe he could convince her to sleep without the dragon tear and see if that changed anything.
The knock sounded again.
“Oh,” Rhi said. “This is somebody polite who won’t simply barge in if they don’t hear a response.”
“I didn’t know I knew anyone like that,” Jev said dryly, then raised his voice to call, “Come in.”
His cousin Wyleria entered, her dark brown hair swept back in a bun, and nodded to Rhi and Zenia before smiling at Jev. There was a tinge of uncertainty in that smile. It surprised him. Had she heard he was in worse shape than he was? No, if that were true, she would look delighted to find him awake and alert.
Wyleria stepped inside hesitantly, and Jev had the impression the uncertainty had to do with whether or not he would want to see her. Why wouldn’t he?
“Thanks for coming, Wyleria,” he said sincerely. “Has word of everything that happened in the city last night made its way out to the castle?”
“Actually, no. I happened to be coming into town to see you this morning, and that’s when I learned you were being cared for by healers here.” She frowned fiercely at him. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“Zyndar are always supposed to be prepared to give their lives for their kingdom and the people they’re sworn to protect.”
“Yes, but you seem to be risking it on a regular basis now.”
Hm, she must have heard about his adventures with that creature in the elven embassy. He’d glossed over the dangers of the night, including battling the monster after climbing up the side of the tower without a rope, but perhaps someone had since filled her in.
“Technically, I was doing that during the war too. You just didn’t know about it because I was overseas and you didn’t see the reports.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Wyleria shared an exasperated sisterhood-of-women look with Rhi and Zenia.
“If it helps,” Jev said, “I’ll try not to need to risk my life again this week.”
“This week? You can’t even promise a month?”
“Well, Zenia wants me to hold fifty pounds of folders for her. It’s possible I’ll be crushed under their weight.”
He smiled, but his cousin didn’t.
“Oh, Jev,” she said. “You’re your father’s only heir now. You need to take care of yourself.”
Jev closed his eyes, feeling smothered. He was glad someone cared, but he’d been without a mother for more than twenty years. He was used to taking care of himself and not having well-meaning but stifling feminine concern thrust upon him. He appreciated that Zenia wasn’t the type to stifle or smother. She seemed to accept that their job was dangerous and they would both be in trouble from time to time. He turned his head toward her, his appreciation seeping out in a smile.
Wyleria noticed and frowned. Jev looked away and made his face more stern. He realized that just because he’d confessed his love for Zenia didn’t mean anyone else in the family knew—or should know. He wanted to figure out how to deal with his father on his own terms, preferably before news of his plan to do so reached the old man and he had time to hunker down behind mental fortifications.
“Jev,” Wyleria said, “I need to speak with you. Several of your cousins and your aunts are planning to visit you later today, but this is important.” She glanced at Rhi and Zenia again, no hint of camaraderie and shared anything in her expression now. “In private, please.”
Rhi shrugged and walked out. Zenia touched his shoulder, then headed for the door, also without protest. Jev almost wished she had protested. He wanted to say that anything Wyleria wanted to say to him could be said in front of her, but… he shouldn’t state that. Not yet. One day, he hoped he could.
“What is it?”
As Jev sat up in the bed, arranging his sheets to fully cover his waist, he remembered what Wyleria had said earlier, that she’d been coming to see him even before she heard about the explosion and his injury. Had his father sent her? Or was something going on at home that she needed to tell him about?
Her expression had grown grave. He grimaced, suspecting he wasn’t going to like this.
“Some… rumors were brought to your father’s attention,” Wyleria said carefully, studying not him but the floor.
“Is this about those zyndari sisters who were gossiping about me and Zenia?”
Wyleria lifted her gaze. “You’ve heard?”
“I’ve heard there’s a surprising amount of
gossip related to me lately.”
“Are you having a relationship with her?” Wyleria asked.
Jev thought of their kiss and almost said, “Yes, so?” But he also thought of Zenia’s modesty, or, perhaps more accurately, of that promise she’d made to herself. He wasn’t positive she’d changed her mind on that yet and didn’t want to disgruntle her by announcing they were a romantic couple.
“We’ve become good friends,” he said. “I don’t know yet if it will become more than that.”
Wyleria took a deep breath. “I suggest you break it off before it does.”
“And why is that?” Even though Wyleria was one of his favorite cousins, and he rarely lost his temper with her, he couldn’t keep the coldness out of his tone.
“There hasn’t been an official announcement yet since you haven’t been told, but your father agreed to a proposal that came in.”
Jev’s blood chilled in his veins and gripped his heart like an icy vise. “A proposal for what?” he asked, though he knew full well.
“Marriage. To Zyndari Fremia Bludnor.”
“One of those teenage sisters trying to manipulate Father into it?” Jev curled his fingers around the edges of his mattress. “Why would he agree to that?”
“She’s young, pretty, and her grandfather fought with your father in the Border Wars. He respects the man, says he’s smart and brave, and believes his granddaughter will birth strong sons.”
“Founders’ cracked scales. He said he’d give me through the summer to find someone on my own.”
“He didn’t confide in me, of course,” Wyleria said, “but I got the impression he believes the rumors about you and Zenia. He was also muttering about something you said the other day, asking him about marrying commoners. I gather he’s afraid… you’ll make a foolish mistake if you’re given the time.”
“Zenia’s not a foolish mistake,” Jev said hotly before he could consider the wisdom of speaking the words.
Duty Bound (Agents of the Crown Book 3) Page 27
