Slipping out from under his arms, I collect my discarded clothes. Quickly pulling on the torn skirt, I grimace, knowing I won’t be able to lace myself back into the bodice. I grab Caelum’s jacket, pulling it over my arms, and open the door, quickly peering down the hallway, relieved to see his wing still quiet. I risk the four-foot run from his rooms to mine, wincing when my door closes a little too loudly behind me, but glad I wasn’t caught slipping out of the crown prince’s room, half-naked.
“What did you do to my beautiful dress?!” a voice shouts and I almost jump out of my skin.
Brienne is standing at the tub in my room, preparing mybath, the hot water steaming as it fills, suddenly looking so inviting. My lady’s maid has her hand on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face as she takes in the beautiful dress she’d made for me, torn at the skirt, the bodice crumpled and gripped in my hand. Gods only know what she thinks about me wearing a man’s jacket over my otherwise bare upper body.
“Brienne! What are you doing here? Er, this isn’t what it looks like.”
She throws me a look Mistress Verisya would’ve been proud of. “And just what is it that you think this looks like?”
But before I can say another word, my door flies open and Rylan storms in, shirtless, and still in the process of pulling on his pants.
“Eirabella, where the fuck did you g—?” He stops, hands on the top button, when he sees Brienne standing there, openly staring at him. I can’t blame her. I did the same seeing him shirtless the first time. Though, I can’t help but notice that the Celestaris gemstone on his chest is swirling, a stormy grey, unlike the red hot it had shone during most of the night. Even with my heart aching in my chest, I can’t help but note that Rylan looks fucking good.
My lady’s maid has the presence of mind to quickly excuse herself, but not before raising her eyebrows at me behind his back. “Er, your bath should be ready now, Eirabella. Please excuse me, Your Highness.”
He doesn’t acknowledge her and simply continues glowering at me until the sound of my door quietly closes behind her. Then he stalks over to me, eyes blazing. “Why are you here?”
I frown and take a step back. In the light of day, the power of his sheer presence is overwhelming. Sometimes I forget that he exudes nothing but sheer power. “Why am I… in my room? I’m not sure I understand the question.”
Annoyance flickers over his features. Ah yes, there’s the look I know so well. “You know what I mean,” he snaps.
“I’m not sure I do.”
“I mean, why are you not in my room?”
Because you don’t wantmethere. You wantsomeone else. “Because… it’s…yourroom…” I say slowly. Are we suddenly not speaking the same language?
He huffs. “Eirabella, you’ve never been known to be slow at understanding. Let’s not start now.”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him. “You know, it’s been a while since I felt like slapping you, but I’m starting to become reacquainted with the urge. So before that happens and Captain Corvane has to come in and apprehend me for attacking a member of the royal family, please, clarify, what are you talking about?”
He runs a hand through his hair and then over his still sleep-tinged face, and I think I catch a flash of vulnerability flitter across his expression. “I… didn’t like waking up to see you’d left. I reached over and you were gone. Why did you leave without waking me?”
All the irritation disappears and my heart softens at his words. “I… didn’t know if you’d want me there,” I say.
He blinks. “Pleasetell me that’s not the actual truth.”
I narrow my eyes at him again, hands immediately coming up to brace on my hips. “Are you calling me a liar?”
He rubs his temples like I’m giving him a headache. “Morath help me when it comes to you, Eira. I’m asking if youactuallywondered whether or not I’d want to wake up with you in my bed.” He takes three steps forward and pins me against the post of my bed. “After last night, how could you still have a single question about that? I think I made it pretty fucking clear.”
I fold my arms, determined to put space between us, nomatter how little. “I think your understanding ofpretty fucking clearneeds reassessment.”
His eyes slowly scan my body, his eyes turning pitch black. “So it seems.” He grabs my wrist and spins me around. Then, in a move reminiscent of last night, he rips Caelum’s jacket off me. Holding it away from his body, it suddenly bursts into flames in his hands and he throws it onto the ground.
“Rylan! What in all of Morath’s heavens?”
He doesn’t answer, just watches the jacket burn to ashes, and then waves a hand, snuffing out the final dying embers. Then he glares at me, the fire now in his eyes. “For example, I thought I made itpretty fucking clearwhen I told you I never wanted to see you wearing his jacket ever again.”
“I needed something to wear so that I wasn’t seen running with my bare tits out from your rooms! Is that what you want?”
His eyes momentarily widen at the vulgarity of my word choice. “I didn’t want you leaving my room at all, that’s the whole damn point!”
My hands ball into almost painful fists by my side to keep myself from slamming them against his naked chest. “What did you expect me to do when you’re murmuring another woman’s name in your sleep while I’m lying in your arms!” I shout. Well. Guess that cat’s out of the bag. “Because I thoughtImade itpretty fucking clearthat I wasn’t going to just stand around watching you with other women!”
He blinks. “What in the realms are you talking about?Whatother woman’s name?”
“Valora! You were obviously wishing I was your… friend, Val, who you were supposedly in love with who died!”
