And so, tired, annoyed, and carrying a much emptier purse, Elias returned home to find Avans waiting for him. The man leaned against the door and grinned at the sight of him.
“Looks like you’ve been having fun,” he teased.
Elias glared but said nothing as he knocked. Linn opened the door a few seconds later, offering obligatory praise at his companions’ new garments. Elias waited until they were all inside, then shared a look with Linn and shut the door.
“Gods,” he groaned. “I’d have bought burlap if I’d known how much they were going to complain.”
Avans chuckled. “Well, you know what they say about women and clothes.”
Elias glared at him. “No, I don’t. What do they say?”
“Eh, hell if I know. I was hoping you might.” Clearing his throat, Avans glanced in the direction of the unseen harbor. “Anyway. We loaded the last of the supplies an hour ago. Fleet’ll be ready to sail by morning.”
“That’s good,” Elias said. He nodded toward the door. “Planning to spend the night again?”
“Nah, all my things are aboard already. I’ll sleep there. Not certain I trust this new crew not to sail off without me.”
“Fair enough. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Elias hesitated, cocking his head. “Or was there something else you wanted to discuss?”
“No…” Avans said, drawing the word out. Fidgeting, he looked askance. “It’s just… I’ve lost one ship already. You’re confident in this plan of yours, Eli?”
“Fairly confident,” Elias admitted. He wanted to joke, to lighten the mood, but the uneasiness and uncharacteristic vulnerability he saw in Avans told him it would be a mistake. “We’ll be all right so long as we give the elves a wide berth. If we reach the ambrosians unscathed… yes, it’ll work.”
“That’s good to hear.” From his halfhearted smile, Avans meant it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Elias watched the man leave, wrestling with the implications until Avans vanished from sight. Then and only then did he turn and enter the house. Linn had left the door unlatched for him. The others had not ventured far and remained in the ante-room. He informed them that they would be leaving in the morning. And perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he read in their faces the same anxieties he’d seen in Avans.
He ate a light supper, exchanged a few trivial words with Gilla and Rhona, and then retired to his room. Before he reached them, however, he stooped to retrieve a pile of clothes in the hall and sighed. Suli had left her door open and dozed naked atop the bed. He didn’t bother returning them to her; knowing the ambrosian, she would deliberately leave them behind. And so, rather than try, he returned to his room and shoved the garments into his own valise.
He roamed the chamber for a few idle minutes, eyeing the empty display that had once held his father’s sword—now his—and the fresh clothes laid out for the morning, and had just started to undress for bed when someone knocked on the door. The knock was soft, timid, and so light that he nearly missed it even in the silent room. And, answering it, he found Linn standing on the other side, dressed in her nightgown.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, before she could speak.
Linn shook her head and seemed to struggle for words. The unlit hall was rather dark but it seemed to him that her face was flushed.
“Master Ansiri,” Linn said, haltingly. “I know this is, ah… improper of me to ask. But, uh, would you like to…?” Trailing off, she gestured shakily past him toward the bed.
Elias glanced at it, stunned, and took a moment to formulate a response. “I’m… flattered, Linn,” he said, face warm. “But I don’t think…”
“Oh!” Linn yelped. This time, he was certain she was blushing. “No, no! I’m so sorry, Master—ah, that’s… that’s not what I meant at all! Not sex! I just meant—I thought it might be nice to share a bed.”
“Oh.” Elias swallowed a laugh. He couldn’t say whether he was more relieved or disappointed. “Oh, that.”
“It might be months before you return,” Linn continued, talking just a shade too quickly. “And I thought it might make for a pleasant memory of home. Of course, if you don’t want to, I’ll completely understand. I won’t be offended or—”
He couldn’t help himself. Chuckling softly, Elias caught her by the arm and pulled her swiftly into a firm but gentle embrace. He held her like that until he felt the warmth of her sigh against his chest and then slowly drew back. Closing the door with his foot, he guided her through the darkened room toward the bed.
“That sounds wonderful,” he murmured.
They lay together in the darkness. And, true to Linn’s word, nothing remotely sexual transpired. That proscription did little to diminish the intimacy of the experience, however.
It had been a long time, years, in fact, since Elias had enjoyed another’s company the way he enjoyed Linn’s that night. He’d shared a pallet with Kyra, Rhona, and Suli, of course, but only out of necessity or a desire for warmth. And whatever pleasure he’d derived from the experiences had been incidental. But the way Linn held him, her head on his chest and her soft, warm body pressed tenderly against his was soothing in a way he’d nearly forgotten. Everything about her—the floral scent of her hair, the heat of her exhalations against his skin, the lethargic caress of her fingers on his side, and even the distracting pressure of her breasts against his ribs—served to anchor him to the moment.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He could feel the beginnings of uninvited tears growing at the corners of his eyes.
Linn stirred against him. He didn’t expect her to answer, but she did, her voice drowsy and comfortable. “You’re welcome, Elias.”
It was the first time Elias could ever remember Linn using his name. He shut his eyes and grinned at the delightful impropriety of the gesture. It was the sort of thing that would have set Catherine to laughing until she cried—though, naturally, he was relieved she’d never caught him in such an innocently compromising position as his current one. Not that he had ever put himself in such a position, naturally.
Sleep came slowly, but far swifter than Elias preferred. He wanted to drag the present moment out for eternity. That was the sort of heaven he hoped for his wife—warm, contented, dreamless bliss. But, before he knew it, sleep came for him. And with it, dreams.
Warm, content, and unalone, Elias Ansiri fought his way through fitful, twisting, labyrinthine visions of the lonely days and battles to come.
To Be Continued
Thank you!
Thank you so much for reading Conqueror of Isles: Ambassador! It’s only thanks to the support and encouragement of fans like you that I’m able to write books like this. If you enjoyed the story, would you consider leaving a review? Your feedback helps ensure other readers discover my books, helps me improve as an author, and allows me to write novels that people love to read.
To those of you who’ve supported this series and others: Thank you. Seriously, it’s entirely because of your support that these books grew to become what they are. And I’m excited to explore the Isles with you, all the way from Elias to Leo and beyond.
Elias and company will return!
Interested in updates?
I offer two different mailing lists, depending on your interest.
The first, Stephen L. Hadley, is for those interested exclusively in my novels. You’ll receive updates when a book is released, including opportunities to become Advance Readers and receive a free copy of new books several weeks before they’re released. That’s it.
The second list, S.L. Hadley, is for those interested in everything I write. I’ve published over a hundred short stories and novellas, primarily erotic sci-fi and fantasy and occasionally publish new ones when I need a break from novel-writing.
You can also find me on Twitter (@booksbyhadley), find more information on my (infrequently updated) website: www.slhadley.com or email me di
rectly at [email protected].
About the Author:
Stephen L. Hadley is a former banker from the American Midwest, where he now pursues his dream of being a full-time author. He lives with his wife, several dying houseplants, and an ever-growing, soon-to-be-sentient stack of board games. He also holds a B.S. in Communications, the irony of which is not lost on him.
In his spare time, he enjoys reading, hiking, and discussing politics until he vomits from anger.
Want to see where it all began?
Lord of Flesh
(Master of Monsters Book 1)
By Stephen L. Hadley
The Isles are a brutal, nasty place and the capital city, Ansiri, is no exception. Its nobility is rife with infighting, nonhuman races are cruelly enslaved, and violence is the primary currency.
It's those very things that Baron Leo VanOrden plans to exploit. The ambitious, young heir to a waning family dynasty, Leo has nothing but time on his hands. Time--and an abundance of opportunities. Because, for all its flaws, Ansiri is a city where anything can be accomplished.
Lord of Flesh is an 75,000 word novel intended for mature readers only.
Ambassador (Conqueror of Isles Book 1) Page 28
