Kastali Dun

Claire was mesmerized by her gown in the mirror's reflection. The layers of tulle and iridescent beads shifted color each time she caught the light of the setting sun. Shades of dark green, purple, blue. Dusk was fast approaching and with it, the start of the tournament's ball. The air was electric with excitement.

Desaree gave her a moment alone, wandering around to light the candles and wall sconces. She wore a blood-red gown similar to the color of Verath's scales. The sleeves were fitted. The bodice too, which came to a deep point over her abdomen. The skirt layers fanned out, trailing behind her in a red waterfall as she moved about the room.

It was overwhelming to witness the transformation Desaree could enact upon herself when she turned the work of her masterful hands inward. Seeing her like this made Verath's affections easy to understand. No wonder he had struggled for so long to resist the temptation of her.

That didn't make his truth any easier to bear.

She turned back to her own reflection. Her golden tresses were piled high atop her head. A beaded comb was wedged into the pile, arcing around in the shape of a crescent. It sparked with iridescence to match her gown. The contrast against her blonde hair was astonishing. Desaree had even added kohl to her eyes and rouge to her cheeks. A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips. She would have killed for some real makeup, mascara and eyeshadow, perhaps even some lipstick. Never mind the other comforts she missed.

She put a gloved hand against her skin, flushed with the thrill of what was to come. The glow of the Sprite necklace at her neck pulsed with her beating heart, as if sensing her nerves. Her sweetheart neckline was cut low. It highlighted the curves of her breasts and chest, showcasing her delicate collarbones.

Tonight was the first time she was showing her Sprite heritage. The mark on her back, just below her neck, was on display for all. That alone left her nervous. But it was also inevitable. People would discover her secrets sooner or later. It was pointless to try and hide.

Desaree appeared beside her, as if sensing her nerves. "King Talon won't be able to keep his eyes off you tonight," she said. "Not that he normally can."

Her stomach fluttered. "You're incredible, Des. I don't remember ever feeling this beautiful."

Desaree wrapped her arms about her waist, bringing her chin to rest on her shoulder. They both gazed at her reflection. Was this what it felt like to have a sister? Someone whose face shone with nothing but love and admiration?

"And besides, it won't just be the king who struggles tonight. Your boldness will leave the ladies of Dragonwall senseless. They will all rush to their dressmakers tomorrow."

"You're saying I'm a trendsetter?" she giggled.

"Something of the sort," Desaree murmured, eying the gown up and down. "Madame Rosanne did a splendid job recreating the color of King Talon's scales. I hadn't expected such a close match. Even my own gown isn't as close to Verath's scales as it could be—and for good reason. With a gown like yours, you might as well be attending your bonding ceremony in the throne room."

"Des!" she squealed, pushing herself out of Desaree's embrace. Desaree's words hit too close to home. Her heart pounded. It was a coincidence—merely a coincidence. Desaree couldn't possibly know about her secret, could she? Had she read into their behavior farther than anyone else?

Desaree shrugged, backing away. "You can't blame me for voicing my opinions. The two of you would be perfect mates, Claire. You balance him—warmth to his cold. It's a shame he never found...well, never mind. Anyway, I must be away. I'm supposed to meet Verath, you know, to give King Talon the opportunity to collect you alone." Her voice dripped with mischief. "You'll be fine until then?"

"I...yes."

"Good." Desaree disappeared, leaving her alone.

She wandered around her quarters, stomach aflutter. Her hands traveled to her abdomen a few times, if only to reassure her body. She moved to her wine cabinet and uncorked a deep red that smelled of cranberry and oak. It made music as it trickled into the cup, the only sound besides the cracking in the fireplace. She swirled the liquid around and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. The tarte taste exploded on her tongue. She closed her eyes and took another sip. Warmth spread through her stomach.

A brief knock made her breath catch. "Come in," she called, clearing her throat. She set the goblet down and turned. Talon stepped into her quarters, closing the door behind him.

One look at him and she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He looked every bit Dragonwall's king and more. Like midnight, personified. Like a god in a human's clothing.

His unruly hair was combed, though signs of misbehavior were still obvious beneath his crown of gold. This one had onyx accents set into its band. His doublet was the same black brocade as her bodice. It fanned out at his hips, entirely flattering his muscular frame. Its long sleeves were attached with ties. The black silken tunic beneath peaked through the gaps. The hem along the sleeves and neckline were trimmed with the same beads as the ones decorating her gown. His black pants were fitted and tucked into a pair of black boots. He wore a cloak pinned at one shoulder, like a dashing knight from the stories she'd grown up reading.

She hardly noticed the scars on his face, too distracted by his silver eyes pinning her in place.

"Claire, you look..." His eyes carved a path over her body as he took her in. She burned beneath his scrutiny. He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he stalked towards her, swallowing the distance between them.

He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the center of her palm. His words were soft as he said, "I could take you to the throne room this very minute. Declare you my mate. Have Verath perform the ceremony. Make you mine."

Tongues of golden flame sparked in his silver eyes.

"Do it, then?" she baited. "Right now. How soon can the others meet us there?"

"Gods..." He took her face in his hands, rubbing the lines of her jaw with his thumbs. "How I wish for it, more than you can even imagine..."

His lips were close—so close. Was he going to kiss her? Her body screamed for it, for him to swallow the small distance between them.

"You are so beautiful it hurts. I have never felt more unworthy in all my life. A beast like me should not be allowed to so much as touch you, to have you." Something flashed in his eyes, too fleeting to decipher. "But here we are." With her eyes, she traced the shape of his face, the lines of his scars, the point of his chin. "If only things were simpler," he added.

"They can be." Her throat bobbed. "You're the one making everything difficult, Talon."

He gave a sharp exhale. "These matters are not as easy as you think. Being mated to me has consequences, the likes of which I am not sure you understand. You don't know what—" He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. "Never mind that just now. Let's talk about it later. Tonight you are far too stunning to quarrel with."

"Why? Because I'll win any and every argument we start?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Precisely. I cannot think straight around you, especially now." He hesitated and dropped his hands. "I have something for you. Then we must go. The others are waiting in the hall." He reached into his pocket to retrieve a piece of jewelry. It dangled heavily from his fingers.

She eyed the necklace. A thick gold chain, a collar, set with onyx stones. An exact match to his crown. A statement. And a much better fit with her gown than the small, barely visible pendant she wore now. Even though she hated to part with the Sprite necklace for the night, she longed to don the one he held in his hands. Perhaps she couldn't be his queen just yet, but she could be something close.

"May I?" He motioned her over to the mirror.

"Of course," she whispered, following him and placing herself before it. She watched his languid movements as he removed the delicate Sprite necklace, gracing her neck with his fingers, and handed it to her. She closed her palm around it, almost reluctant to let it go. Just one night. She could put it back on in the morning.

He unclasped the catch on the collar and reached around her, draping the heavy gold and onyx over her collarbone. His fingers brushed against her. Shivers raced up and down her spine.

"There." He traced his fingers along her skin, over the mark at her back, humming at the sight of it, before bringing his hands to rest on her shoulders. "A perfect match."

He was right. Even without a crown, she looked like she belonged beside him.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the back of her neck, trailing kisses along the curve of her shoulder. Warmth spread through her. She watched him in the mirror's reflection, barely breathing. He came to a stop, mid-kiss, and captured her eyes with his. "Kissing you feels like a sin," he murmured before stepping away. "I am so unworthy."

She opened her mouth to speak. Words failed. Why should anything they did be a sin? They were intended for each other. Mates. Unless...unless he didn't plan to act on their bond, which frightened her. There were so many things she wanted to say. Everything and nothing, all at once. But she feared ruining these moments between them. She wanted tonight to be perfect, no matter what happened.

"Come. Let's not keep the others waiting." He held out his hand. She took it, allowing him to lead her from her quarters.

As suspected, the others were in the corridor waiting. She was unprepared for the surprise of seeing both Koldis and Jovari without escorts, making Bedelth's request to Saffra all the more intriguing. There was no time to speculate over it. Desaree and Saffra gave her wide, encouraging smiles.

Saffra's arm was draped through Bedelth's. He looked especially pleased with her beside him. And she looked like royalty in the gown they'd found for her. The orange left her caramel skin glowing. Her hair had been done up expertly by Jocelyn, who was probably somewhere downstairs with her partner, waiting for them to make an entrance.

Talon took up his place at the front of the group. She hooked her hand through his arm, anchoring herself to him in more ways than one. He proceeded down the hallway, the others following in a procession behind them.

"Saffra looks especially stunning tonight," Talon murmured as they descended a staircase. "Don't you think?"

"Especially stunning," she agreed, trying to keep a mischievous smile from her lips.

"I wonder how she managed a gown like that on such short notice?" He kept his face forward, but she noticed the twitch of his lips. Godsdamn this male beside her! Nothing slipped past him. Nothing.

"Easily enough, if you must know. I had the presence of mind to lend her one."

Talon faltered, skipping a step before quickly recovering. A flush crept up the sides of his neck—rare, so very rare to catch him by surprise.

"No need to fret," she added, patting his arm. "We can discuss it later."

She knew exactly why her words had unsettled him. It was not Saffra's wearing of a queen's gown that bothered him. Far from it. It was because they were not yet mated. The gowns in the queen's wardrobe did not yet belong to her. By acting as if they did, she was acting as if their bonding was inevitable—a thing that was certain. For her, it seemed so. But clearly, that wasn't the case for him.

"And how did you manage to slip past my guards?" he asked, throwing her a sidelong glance.

"The secret passageways. There are a few leading into the tower. The queen's parlor in particular."

"Ah. Yes." His expression changed to one of interest. He glanced at the walls beside him as if he might spot a hidden door that very minute. "You said you would show me. With everything...it slipped my mind."

She smiled. "Not to worry. As soon as you're ready, I'd be happy to show you. I have yet to see the cave beneath the keep, so you're not the only one eager to explore." The truth was, she'd wanted to explore the cave since its discovery. But something always came up—or perhaps she was avoiding it more than she cared to admit. Afraid of the answers she might find. Afraid they might contradict her suspicions.

They reached the landing overlooking the entry hall and came to a stop. Her breath fled her chest. A sea of people stood below, elegantly dressed in every shade of fabric imaginable. Except royal blue. Though, it was obvious they preferred bright colors. She and Talon were the only ones in black. That left her immensely pleased.

The tournament ball was open to nobles and distinguished Drengr. The guest list was limited because of space, but some five hundred patrons had received an invitation. The sound of their excited voices filled the air with an electric buzz. Servers in castle livery of white and gold walked through the crowd, carrying carafes of wine and finger food.

As soon as they were spotted, a hush spread. Talon lifted his free hand to signal for silence. "Good evening one and all! Welcome to the Fifth-year Tournament's Ball." A smattering of polite applause sounded. People shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable in their king's presence. "Tonight is meant to be a happy celebration as we ring in the approach of winter. But we all know that, so I'll save my words and get this beautiful woman at my side down to the dance floor." He glanced at her, his eyes aglow, before turning back to the crowd. "I never liked speeches anyway. Enjoy yourselves tonight, and let the madness of the world go unthought of...for now." He nodded—a show of finality to his words. The crowd applauded.

"Ready?" Talon murmured.

"As I'll ever be," she said, gazing at the vast number of people below. She could feel his eyes intent upon her.

He led her down the stairs. She was vaguely aware of the others behind them, descending in a procession. The crowd parted to let them pass. She plastered a smile on her face and nodded to those she passed, trying to appear friendly. Everyone gazed at her with open shock, taking in her show of bare shoulders and the exposed mark, whispering as she passed. She caught a brief glimpse of Caterina standing beside Mage Targa. Caterina's lips curled; her eyes flashed. Had her face not held such an ugly expression, she would have looked beautiful in her silver gown. The color of Talon's eyes, she realized. Tonight was probably one of the last nights Caterina would spend as a free woman before her upcoming trial. She turned away, pushing the hateful woman from her thoughts.

She and Talon proceeded through the entry to the doors at the far side of the hall, leading into the throne room. The doors swept open for them. She gasped and faltered. Talon's arm tightened, spurring her on.

The room had been unexpectedly transformed. It reminded her of the way Talon had decorated the servant dining room for Verekblot. The cathedral style ceiling was weighed down by the presence of massive garlands. Glow lights twinkled within them. The pillars were wrapped with orange, red, and yellow tulle splattered with more glows. The colors of autumn. She inhaled, sighing. It smelled of floral fragrances and wood from the Gable Forest.

At the far end of the throne room near Talon's dais, a small group of musicians dressed in castle livery, assembled with their instruments, waiting. Talon took her to the middle of the open floor as guests gathered in, filling the spaces along the perimeter between the pillars. Talon's Shields set themselves at the front of the crowd, watching. Desaree and Saffra offered her nods of encouragement.

"You can perform a Tromp, yes?" Talon asked. As if the Tromp was a dance common in her world as it was in his.

"You're only asking now?" she whispered. "What if I can't?" She didn't bother telling him she'd learned the steps that morning. He opened his mouth, then closed it when she grinned up at him. "I'm only teasing. Yes, I can." Nervous jitters settled over her. She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax.

"Perfect." His face was motionless, a mask. He didn't like other people knowing his thoughts, she realized. Especially not a room of this size. But his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges as he said, "Let's show the world how it's done then?"

The torchlight danced across his skin. Only the deepest scars stood out. The one running diagonally from his left eyebrow to his right jawline was a rut across his skin. It was impossible to imagine the pain he must have felt that day. She couldn't stop herself from tracing the lines, memorizing them.

They positioned themselves several arm lengths apart to allow space for their first set of steps. A hush fell over the room. She could hear herself breathing. Talon offered the musicians a subtle nod and the music started.

A stringed instrument sent a trickling of low notes into the air. This was her cue. The only music that morning had been Desaree's humming, so it was a lucky guess. She took two steps forward—right foot, left foot—then two steps backward—right foot, left foot—then two forward again and curtsied, holding her curtsy with her gown slightly lifted from the ground. The skirts were heavy, but she stayed motionless. Talon repeated the same steps, coming towards her—step, step—and then backing away—step, step—and then towards her again. He swept into a deep bow, keeping his eyes locked on hers. This time they both stood and faced each other again. Now they were close enough to touch. She lifted her right hand to his, palms and fingertips nearly touching. Through her gloves, her skin tingled. She lifted the left side of her skirt and they circled one full rotation before switching hands and circling again. Clockwise then counterclockwise, and again. Their courtship was progressing. They stepped apart. She curtsied and he bowed again. A second greeting. This time he wrapped his arm about her waist and she placed her hand on his shoulder. He swept her around into what was closer to a waltz. The steps continued to mimic the forward and backward movement of the first two phases, as the music carried them onward. They were like birds in a mating dance, tentatively approaching and then retreating, begging permission to get closer.

As the tempo increased, they found themselves all but skipping across the floor. A giggle slipped from her lips as he carried her forward. She clung to him with no regard for their close proximity. Her eyes remained on his face, drinking him in. All stiffness abandoned, his lips split into a deep grin, one she couldn't let go of, determined to freeze it in her memory forever.

The floor remained empty, fully open for them. At the pace they moved, with no attention paid to what was around them, it was a blessing. Everything around them had disappeared. Time ceased to exist. She almost didn't notice when the music slowed. They came to a stop, but even then, she hardly noticed. It wasn't until the roar of applause echoed through the throne room that she blinked and the spell was broken.

"Beautiful," he murmured, looking only at her.

She dropped her hands and clapped with the audience, laughing as she looked between everyone else and Talon. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

"Come! Join us!" He spread his arms wide, inviting other couples out onto the floor. Desaree and Saffra swept up with Verath and Bedelth to dance the next number beside them. There was only a matter of moments before the musicians launched into the next song. As it started, those who recognized the melody knew it was another waltz. She could only guess and hope she performed adequately. But she had Talon to guide her, and that counted for a lot.

Talon pulled her against him. A gentle squeal slipped from her lips at the sudden possessiveness of his movements, of his hands gripping her. She was already drunk on the excitement of the moment. He rushed her into the next set of steps.

Two more songs continued this way, with little more than a few moments to breathe. Soon she found herself clutching her side, laughing, nearly bent over to catch her breath.

"The musicians only play four songs at a time," Talon explained, taking her hand and pulling her from the crowd. His voice rang with elation. "Come, let's take a moment to breathe. If I don't get you some food, you'll faint on me before the night's end."

It was a dream.

He led her through the throne room and entry hall, into the dining hall. She gasped at the sight. Tables were piled with food for self-service.

"Your gown is incredible," he said, noticing the way others looked at them—at her. "You certainly managed to capture everyone's attention tonight. I can't decide if it's your beauty or your boldness that entraps them."

"Or both," she said, teasing.

They drew plates and dished up food before he led her to the head table. She took a seat at his left. "So this is what it feels like to sit up here."

"Indeed. High and mighty. The best place to rule over my subjects." His eyes danced as he spoke.

"Right. A distinguished position. It all makes sense now. Best view in the house." He took her joking in stride.

Her plate was filled with slices of succulent beef and roast goose, garlic potatoes, diced vegetables in a mustard crème sauce, and honey bread. A cupbearer came by their table and filled their goblets with wine. She sipped it, welcoming the calm that settled over her fluttery nerves.

By now, other guests were filing into the hall to eat. The noise escalated, turning to a frenzy of excitement. In the background, the instruments of the musicians struck up another tune. "Having fun?" he asked, leaning in close. His breath tickled the shell of her ear. But that wasn't what distracted her. His left hand was hidden under the table and found her thigh as his thumb caressed it over the fabric of her gown. A thrill shot straight to her core, making her toes scrunch up in her slippers.

"More fun than I've had in days," she managed, breathless. "You?"

"Absolutely. The best time I've ever had at a ball." His face glowed. He pulled his hand away to take up his cutlery.

She watched his movements, eyes lingering over that hand, reluctant to see it newly occupied. "Hmm...more than any other ball? That's saying a lot, you know, considering you've attended how many in your lifetime?"

"Over a hundred, give or take." They both laughed.

She picked at her food again, eating a little here and there. Being in his presence, with so much of his attention on her, left her flighty.

"You dance well," he said after a few mouthfuls. "I am impressed."

"Oh?" She hesitated. "I have good teachers."

"I should have known you'd come prepared for war." A deep, draconic laugh rumbled in his chest. "Desaree and Saffra?"

"How'd you guess?" She grinned.

They fell silent, eating. Or rather, he ate while she continued to pick. A few minutes later, her eyes landed on Caterina waltzing in with a group of nobles, chattering as if nothing in the world was the matter. The center of their attention. Of their universe.

Anger heated her cheeks, seeing Caterina so happy and carefree. She didn't deserve it. "What are you planning to do about her?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Verath told you about what he discovered?"

Talon followed her gaze. "Yes. He told me. Rather unfortunate, but not surprising. She always was a snake—albeit an unthreatening one." They watched her as she made her way to one of the tables and began loading a plate of food. "The trial will continue as planned. She will be found guilty and sentenced to death." His words left no room for discussion.

She frowned. "Caterina was very young when she committed the crime. Will that be taken into account?"

"A crime is a crime, Claire. She knew what she was doing. Come now, let's not talk about heavy matters this evening. I'd rather enjoy your company and keep the mood light, wouldn't you?"

She exhaled and smiled, turning to him. "Yes, you're right. Problems for another time."

Koldis and Jovari swept up to the table, faces glowing. "Shouldn't the two of you be out dancing?" Koldis said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes," Talon muttered. "I wanted to make sure she ate first."

"I see." Koldis eyed her plate. "And you're finished, then?" She shrugged. "Well, in that case, may I have the next dance?"

Jovari tisked. "I thought we agreed that I would dance with her first?"

"Well, too late. I already asked. You can dance with her second."

"And where does that leave me?" Talon asked, amusement coloring his voice.

Koldis chuckled. "Well, my king, you may have her for the rest of the night. But only after we've had our turn." He held out his hand. "My lady?"

She glanced at Talon. His eyes danced. "You had better go ahead."

She let Koldis lead her back to the dance floor. They took up a position with the other couples. "This next is a Gallop I think," Koldis said.

He put his hand on her back, holding her at a comfortable distance. They waited for the others to get in position around them. The first notes of the music started. "As suspected," he said. "Brace yourself." A moment later, they surged forward, skipping across the floor with the other couples. It was exhilarating. She couldn't control her laughter as they weaved their way through each couple.

It wasn't a dance for talking, but somehow Koldis managed. "You and Talon look awfully comfortable together as of late."

"Noticed, have you?" She all but yelled to be heard over the music and laughter.

"Yes, we certainly have. Don't think we aren't whispering about it. Bedelth said the two of you were sneaking off together the whole way home from Brezen."

"No?! Did he really?" She feigned surprise. "Well, maybe you shouldn't believe every rumor you hear."

"Rumors? From Bedelth? Bah. It's not a rumor if it's from Bedelth. And for the record, don't take this as my disapproval. Our king has been less moody than ever before. Whatever you're doing...keep doing it. It's working. None of us are complaining. Believe me."

She snorted. "Glad I have your support."

"Ha! Come now, I've been an admirer of your ways for some time now."

"My ways?!" She laughed, breathless. "You act as though I've been here working some magical manipulation over him."

"Haven't you though?" His mouth twitched. He steered them around another set of couples.

"Maybe I have," she admitted. They had come too close to the truth. "That's why he's been so different, you know."

"Oh? Are you saying that our king is infatuated with you now?"

Koldis sent her into a spin. "You might say that."

"Seems strange, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" The smile fell from her face.

"King Talon doesn't get...infatuated." He held her gaze, searching, she realized, for answers she could not give. "I've known him nearly two hundred years, Claire. Our king does not follow the whims of his feelings. No matter how beautiful you might be. He hasn't had a woman in...forever."

"Well, Koldis, maybe he's just never met a woman quite like me?"

Koldis roared, throwing his head back. "Good point! I cannot say that he has." His voice was all but drowned out by the music.

She breathed a sigh of relief, glad he was willing to play her game for now, but she couldn't help but notice something in his eyes. Did he know of the bond? Suspect it, perhaps? Either way, she wasn't going to confirm his suspicions.

Minutes later, she was handed off to Jovari. He was less suspicious and instead opted for small, polite talk. How was she liking the ball? Did she go to balls like this in her own world? How did they compare to this?

"Our dances are a bit less formal," she explained. She considered what his reaction might be if Jovari saw her in a packed club with strobe lights. Instead, she changed the subject. "Why no partner tonight?" she asked. He merely shrugged and dismissed the idea.

She was handed off to Bedelth instead of Talon, who was now dancing with Saffra in exchange. She took full advantage of this opportunity. "What's your relationship with Lady Saffra?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Lady Saffra?" He tried to appear surprised. "I've known her since she was a child. I care for her, that is all. What happened with Commander Daxton is a tragedy. I wish her nothing but happiness."

Even though his words were sincere, she couldn't help but sense something deeper in them. There were feelings lurking beneath his surface, even if he didn't care to admit them to himself. She would find out one way or another...eventually.

After a short break between sets, she was handed off to Verath. "Am I to dance with every godsdamned Shield in attendance before I get Talon back?" she cried when he swept her into a new dance. It was hard to keep the laughter from her voice.

"It would seem so, my lady." Verath's eyes sparkled. His earlier melancholy was gone, as if it had never happened. Completely erased.

She decided against bringing up Kendra. That would only reopen his wound. Instead, she brought up Desaree. "Des looks happier than I've seen her in a long time," she said.

"You think?" He glanced over to where Desaree danced with Koldis, also noticing that Jocelyn was in Jovari's arms, now.

"I haven't seen her smile this much...ever." She turned back to him. "You make her really happy, you know." He nodded but said nothing more. Yet, she couldn't help but notice how frequently his eyes darted to Desaree for the remainder of their dance.

At last, she finally reclaimed Talon. "I almost thought I would never get you to myself again."

"Hm...you think I would allow that?" He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, studying her. When he next spoke, his voice was low, "I've done my duty for the night, sharing you with the others. The rest of your night belongs to me." His words sent fire licking straight to her core. "Come, Lady Claire. Let's dance." He led her back to the floor, his hand in hers.

They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms. It was impossible to count the number of dances they shared, the number of smiles, the number of times his hands traveled to places they shouldn't, but only when no one was looking. It left her breathless and lightheaded.

She was nearly faint with exhaustion when he pulled her from the floor at last. "I think it's time to retire you for the night. What do you think?"

She tried to protest, but words failed her. The thought of getting him alone was more enticing. So instead, she nodded and allowed him to lead her away, back up the stairs and into the south wing of the keep, straight to her door. The guards looked on in silence.

"I'm not quite sure I'm tired yet," she admitted. "I...would you like to come in and share a glass of wine with me? Or perhaps two?"

He glanced at her door. "Thank you. I would like that."

She blinked several times, almost expecting him to decline.

"Lead the way," he added, his face splitting into a grin, revealing the brilliant yet rare smile she loved so much. He motioned her forward. The guards took this as their cue and opened the door for them, stepping aside. Talon followed her in just as the door gently clicked shut behind them. Alone at last.

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