Eternal Palace (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 4)
Page 5
“I can imagine,” said Hal. “But you’ve seen it all before.”
Laurel nodded. “I advised the Maxim the best that I could, based on what I knew. But it wasn’t enough. The army approached yesterday afternoon. The vanguard was mounted on dragons, and swept over the city, creating a fire emergency before we’d even truly entered battle.”
“They didn’t negotiate, first?” asked Hal.
“They didn’t say anything,” said Laurel.
That doesn’t seem right. They knocked on my front door and politely asked me for a favor. Why would they attack a city so flippantly?
“They were here for something,” said Laurel. “The bulk of the elven army never entered the city, but a small group of valkyries, like Zoria, did get by our defenses. They raided a home in Meldence that belonged to a scholarly old man named Deruvian. We’re not sure why, or what they took, but they burned it to the ground with him still inside, afterward.”
Hal winced. The detail struck a little too close to home, and what he’d just experienced. He knew that he couldn’t put off telling her any longer.
“They came for me, too,” he said. “Elven valkyries. It’s why I traveled here, Laurel. They… burned the homestead to the ground.”
What had he been expecting from her? For an instant, her reaction mirrored what Hal had felt, staring into the burning remains of his most recent home. But almost immediately, she took a breath, cleared her throat, and composed herself.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said. “We’ll have to find a way to make them pay for that. Are you okay, Hal?”
“I…” He was caught off guard, both by her reaction and the question. “I’m fine.”
“I’m glad.” She looked at him, and her eyes held his for longer than what was appropriate. “There’s still so much for us to talk about. I have to bring this information to the Maxim, immediately, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re being ignored or dismissed. Really, it’s anything but.”
She stepped in closer to him. Hal felt her presence more than he ever had before. Laurel reached her hand out and cupped his cheek. Without saying a word, she leaned in close to him and kissed him softly on the lips.
It wasn’t a quick kiss. Her mouth pressed into his, and she moved her lips slowly and sensually, as though she wanted it to go on for as long as it could. Hal was too surprised to kiss her back, even after he’d realized what was happening.
She held his gaze when she finally pulled back. There was no shame or embarrassment in her expression, but there was a question there, and perhaps an exposed layer of vulnerability.
“Laurel…” Hal said. He hadn’t told everything, yet. He hadn’t mentioned what the elves had asked for, or how the threat Tessianna had made had been against him and her both. It wasn’t fair for her to spring whatever she’d just done on him, out of nowhere.
“I’ll have Busher show you to my quarters,” said Laurel. “I’m sure you could use a rest. I still have a full day’s work ahead of me but… I’d really like it if we could have supper tonight. And really talk to each other.”
Hal gave a slow nod. Laurel was already walking to the door by the time he’d found the question he wanted to ask.
What happened to you?
CHAPTER 8
Hal walked a step behind Busher as the large man led him through the castle’s hallways. Busher had taken Laurel’s order with a nod, and he’d said nothing to Hal, not even looking in his direction as they walked. It wasn’t until they stopped in front of a doorway on the castle’s second floor that the man finally spoke.
“I can summon servants for you to draw you a bath, if you’d like.” Busher sniffed a few times and frowned disdainfully. “You’ll be added to the end of the queue, so they might not get around to filling the tub for you until early afternoon.”
“I’d appreciate that,” said Hal.
“These are Ambassador Ancina’s private quarters,” said Busher. “She has a lot of responsibility on her plate, currently, advising the Maxim and working with nobles to organize our defense efforts. I will be the one who deals with you if you do anything to distract or upset her.”
Hal didn’t like Busher’s tone, but he forced himself to ignore it.
“Have you been helping Laurel for long?” he asked.
“I’ve been at Ambassador Ancina’s side since she was first appointed to her position,” said Busher. “I’ve helped her with a variety of different things.”
Hal felt an irrational flush of jealousy at the man’s words. It annoyed him more than it should have that Busher had been with Laurel, helping her fit into her new role. It meant that he’d seen her undergoing that change and been there for her along the way. Hal only got to see the end result, and he felt a little cheated, though he knew it was ridiculous.
Busher wasn’t looking at him, but he seemed to be waiting for something. It was only then that Hal stopped to consider that the same might be true in reverse. Was Busher annoyed, or envious, of Hal’s familiarity with Laurel? Had Busher seen the kiss that she’d given him?
The kiss. Laurel, why can’t things be simple between us, like they were at the start?
“If there’s nothing else…” said Busher.
“No, thank you,” said Hal. “Tell the servants that they can enter and fill the bath, even if I’m not present.”
He gave Busher a curt nod and then entered Laurel’s chambers. They were expansive, fitting for someone in her new position. The homestead’s sitting room along with Laurel’s old bedchamber could have both fit within, with space to spare.
Laurel had a four-poster bed on one side of the room, a massive hearth, a balcony that overlooked the castle’s courtyard, a table and several chairs, and an open wardrobe stuffed with elegant clothing and dresses. Hal felt shabby and out of place, his clothes dirty and ripped from the fight the previous night.
He sat down in one of the chairs and tried to organize his thoughts. Despite the state of the city, the ultimatum the Empress had given him, and his own uncertain future, the kiss was what dominated the attention of his thoughts.
It wasn’t just what the kiss meant. Hal had sensed that there was more between him and Laurel than just simple friendship for a while. They were close, closer than he’d been with women he’d made love to before.
What caught him off guard was how confidently she’d gone for it. There’d been no hesitation. She’d looked into his eyes first. There was something about that confidence that made him feel like they’d gone down a path that they could never come back from.
Had Laurel taken a lover in their month apart? Was that why Busher had seemed so annoyed by him? Hal really, really didn’t like considering the possibility, though he knew that it was none of his business.
From Laurel’s perspective, it made sense. Hal had kept her at a distance, physically, if not emotionally. Perhaps part of her reason in not calling him to Meldence to be her bodyguard again had to do with her needing space from him, and whatever their relationship was.
Could she have found comfort in someone else’s arms? In Busher’s arms? It was possible, and it would explain her newfound confidence, both in her approach to being Ambassador, and in the way she’d kissed him.
This is pointless to think about. I’m just making assumptions…
Hal sighed as he stood up. He couldn’t just sit there, alone with Laurel’s bed and Laurel’s clothes and his own tumultuous thoughts. He needed to move, to do something. To distract himself.
He left Laurel’s chamber and headed back out into the city. More people were out on the street. Merchants sold food and other essential goods to long lines of customers. Groups of boys carried swords that looked heavy and cumbersome, all of them too young to join the castle guard or city militia.
Hal walked until he found a group of men in the process of carrying bodies out of the city to dump on the funeral pyres. There didn’t seem to be much real organization in the process, and nobody said anything as he fell into place n
ext to them.
The first body he carried was one of a young boy, barely older than the ones he’d just walked by. His eyes were still open in death. Hal didn’t close them for the boy, feeling as though there was something pointless about the gesture, under the circumstances.
The boy had been stabbed through the stomach, and it made it hard to carry him without getting a little bloody. Hal didn’t care. His clothes were already soiled, and it needed to be done. He carried the boy without complaint, trying not to wonder if there was a family who’d mourn for him.
He set the boy down near one of the fires, where another group of volunteers was tossing bodies and controlling the flames. The smell wasn’t as bad as it had been when Hal had first entered the city, though he suspected it was more because he’d gotten used to the scent.
He doubled back for another body, this time finding an elven valkyrie, a woman of indeterminable age. Hal hesitated as he picked her up, noticing something that made his stomach roil. Her clothes were ripped loose. From the bruising around her neck, it looked as though she’d been suffocated.
Suffocated, and most likely raped.
He expression was still locked in a furious, prideful glare, if such a thing could be said about a corpse. Hal tried to pull the tatters of her clothing back into place before tossing her over his shoulder.
He wondered why it mattered to him so much. She was an elf, an eklid, in service to the Empress who’d ordered the deaths of Hal’s entire family. Shouldn’t the hate have come easy? There was a very good chance that whoever had killed the elf woman was taking vengeance in the same way Hal had dreamed of, so many times before.
He thought of Zoria, and of Zoria’s family. They weren’t evil people. Zoria had saved his life several times over. Hal considered her to be a true friend, even if they might end up on opposing sides in the coming war. He couldn’t make himself believe that all elves were evil. They were just people, caught up in a situation with momentum that went back further than even their extended lives would allow them to understand.
He left the elf woman by the funeral pyre, ignoring the snide comments about her nudity from two of the men tending the fire. Hal returned to the city, once more finding a body to carry. This time, it was a husk, one of the dark, undead monsters that he’d fought on multiple occasions.
There was no sympathy in his heart for the monster. Its mottled, black skin felt oily as Hal positioned the thing for lifting. Its teeth were long, pointed, and numerous to the point of being redundant. The ones in front were still covered in blood, either from one of the defenders, or an unarmed innocent.
Was there hypocrisy in being able to sympathize with humans and elves, but not this creature? If there was, Hal couldn’t think of an argument for it. They didn’t communicate. Their behavior didn’t vary. They killed without hesitation, and it forced Hal to mirror them in his own reaction, killing them without mercy.
He walked faster as he carried the husk, finding the anger and hate within himself that he’d suppressed for so long. The husk represented something, just as the boy and the valkyrie. The husk was fate, the inevitable, unthinking march of events. The husk didn’t have a choice in what it did, and it made Hal wonder if he did, either.
He dumped the body by the fire and returned to the city, not stopping to carry another. He headed back to Laurel’s room and sat in one of the chairs, awaiting his bath.
CHAPTER 9
It wasn’t long before the servants began filing in, each carrying a bucket of warmed water. A few of them gave Hal questioning looks, as though they couldn’t understand why one of the Maxim’s ambassadors would bother with a shabbily dressed, bloodstained man.
He lowered himself into the water as soon as they’d all left, sighing at the warmth of it. Bathing on the homestead had always been something done out of necessity, rather than for enjoyment. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d last had a warm bath, and it made him aware of the gap between living under rural conditions and living in the city.
He scrubbed himself clean, paying particular attention to the gouge in his back that he’d been ignoring all day. When he finally stood up from the water, he felt his head pound as blood rushed back into his limbs. It was in part due to how tired he was, having not slept in a day and a half.
Clothes had been left out for him, and they were similar in style to the garments he’d seen Busher wearing earlier. Hal wasn’t fond of the fashions in Meldence, but he pulled the clothing on, knowing that his current wear was ruined by all the tears and bloodstains.
He wondered how long it would be before Laurel finished her work. He took a seat on her bed and let his thoughts drift. What was he supposed to do, now that he’d found Laurel and delivered the news? She had a life in Meldence that demanded her attention now, more than ever.
I could follow up on the deal Tessianna offered me.
Hal considered what Laurel told him, about there being a focus of the elves’ attack. Did that relate to the “services” that Tessianna had been interested in him lending to the Empress? The timing fit well enough, but it could just be coincidence.
He wondered if it was really any of his business. He wasn’t sure if it made sense for him to take on the responsibility and risk, especially if it led to the Empress having a chance to take him into her control. But what else could he do? His other options seemed limited to offering his help to Maxim Cedric and his army, or perhaps returning to the homestead to rebuild if he wanted to stay out of the conflict.
He was still considering his future as his eyes grew heavy.
***
Hal awoke in darkness, to the sound of the door opening. He felt a brief stab of panic as he searched his memory, trying to remember where he was. A tiny spark, followed by a small burst of ruby magic, lit one of the lanterns on the table. Laurel stood in the center of the room, watching him.
“You’re in my bed,” she said.
Hal had been lying on top of the blankets, but he still felt a touch defensive about it.
“Didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep,” he said.
Laurel smiled at him. She walked over to the hearth and used the poker to stir life back into the coals. She added another log, which quickly caught fire, adding ambient light to the room.
She was still wearing the same blue tunic and brown leggings from earlier, but she’d taken her cloak off and let her hair down. She looked more like the Laurel that Hal remembered, which made it all the more confusing when she walked over to the bed and sat down close by him.
“I had some questions,” said Hal. “We didn’t really get a chance to cover everything before.”
“I’m an open book, Hal,” she said, in a soft voice.
“Why did Maxim Cedric appoint you as an Ambassador?” asked Hal.
He was upfront with the question, though he knew that it was impossible for him to ask it without implying that he thought she wasn’t qualified for the role. Though, that was exactly Hal’s thought when he had first heard. Laurel was young, decades younger than most who’d take on such a duty. It didn’t make sense to him.
“He needs people he can trust,” said Laurel. “I think… Cedric had a sense that things were about to start happening, and knew he needed to keep me close.”
Her explanation didn’t satisfy Hal, but Laurel had already moved on from it. She’d put her hand on top of his. Hal felt his heart pounding, and cleared his throat, searching for something else to fill the silence before the tension built any further.
“And Busher?” asked Hal. “Did the Maxim give you him as a bodyguard, or to help teach you about the role?”
Laurel nodded. “A bit of both, I think.”
“He doesn’t seem to like me much,” said Hal. “Is he…?”
Hal trailed, searching for a tactful way to ask.
“Is he what?”
“Are you and him… together?” he asked. “Or have you been before?”
“Busher has a wife,” said Laurel. “And three dau
ghters. One of whom was injured in yesterday’s attack.”
Her hand drifted upward, rubbing across his chest. Hal felt himself getting excited, even as his emotions went to battle over what was the right thing for him to do.
“Laurel,” he said, softly.
“Halrin.” She leaned forward, her eyes holding his, as they had before. She kissed him without any hesitation and shifted her body, as though presenting herself to him.
Hal was the one who broke the kiss. He set his hands on her shoulders and let out a sigh.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve always seen you as…”
As what? As a sister? As Lilith, the little sister who I failed to protect?
“I’ve tried… so hard,” whispered Laurel. “So many different times, in so many different ways, just to get your attention. You’re so close, Hal, but still so far. I just ask that you see me as who I am. As the woman that I am, here with you, right now.”
Hal looked her. She wasn’t Lilith. Whatever trick his grief had played on him in the aftermath of his sister’s death had been for no one’s benefit. It had hurt her, he could see now. It had kept him from getting close to the woman who cared about him the most. The choice was his, and it was one he would only get this last chance to make.
He reached out and brushed a few stray hairs out of Laurel’s face. She blinked a few times in quick succession. Hal let his finger run along the side of her chin, briefly touching her scar. Her reaction surprised him, a small, teasing smile playing across her lips, as though she was amused by how long he was taking. Or more accurately, how long it had taken, for him to really notice her as a woman.
Hal grinned. He leaned in and kissed her and felt months of pent-up emotions burst forth as Laurel kissed him back. He pulled her in closer to him, and felt her tongue press into his mouth. He ran his hands over her clothing, touching the safe, normal places on her body, first.
He hesitated before running his fingers across the fabric of her leggings. Part of him expected one or both of them to snap out of it at any second. Or for someone to knock on the door, interrupt the moment, and leave them wondering how they’d even arrived here, afterward.