What was Aurora playing at?
Castien’s reply was stiff but polite. “My apologies, Commander. As an Escort, my services are solely for my Queen–”
“And whoever I choose,” Anais interrupted. “He would be honored to see to your comforts.”
“Thank you, Queen Renebris.”
Castien was the picture of professional obedience as he lowered his chin.
Perhaps Aurora was no longer the woman she remembered, but Shoni’i honor was something she could count on. They wouldn't harm him. Not behind closed doors.
Still, Anais tried once more. She dropped a layer of the mask, let herself smile slightly. “How is Queen Eolani? I'm glad she chose to side with us against Nadraken – or at least not against us. Either way, my mother always hoped we could be allies.”
The Commander's lips thinned. Her shoulders tensed. “With all due respect, your highness, your mother was a bitch.”
The cold slipped over Anais’ face. Her mother had not been cruel to Aurora ten years ago. Not kind, either, but not cruel. “You didn’t know her.”
“I knew her as well as I know you.”
That said everything, didn't it? Cold glittered in both their eyes as they stared at each other, neither willing to back down. They never had.
But today, this time, Aurora dipped her chin. “Excuse me, highness. I would like to check on my people and stretch my legs from the long journey.”
“Spar with me,” Anais found herself suggesting. “I’m curious to see how much you've progressed since our last bout.”
The Commander's jaw feathered. “I would not have conflict with my future Queen. Command it of me then, if you wish, but for now, I am under orders to honor the truce of the Consort Tournament.” She turned to Castien. “Escort, will you join me?”
Anais held him back. “I’ll send him to the ambassador’s wing shortly.”
Aurora bowed again.
As the Shoni'i’s footsteps faded away, Anais headed back the way they came. She walked past the doors of the Great Hall. She needed privacy.
The familiar wooden doors closed behind her, and she breathed deeply, exhaling a sigh of relief. The stark walls of the Queen’s Wing were always brighter, more open than the oppressive air just beyond those doors.
She gazed longingly down the hall toward her chambers. “I should return to the feast, make sure they're not killing each other.”
Castien’s hands came from behind, his arms banding around her ribs. “Or we could take a few more steps to your bed, and I could give you that massage you've more than earned.” He kissed her neck, his warm lips sending a shiver down her spine. “I miss touching you. Sparring is somehow just not the same…”
She blew out a soft laugh. “Do you prefer a different sort of exercise, Escort?”
“Always. I've hardly begun to show you what I can do.”
Tempting, tantalizing man. She would never get anything done if it were up to Castien. Someday, she’d give him all the time he wanted. Hours, days, moons. Years.
Today, she turned in his arms and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Fire and hunger flared in his intense gaze. He bent to her lips.
She wished she could indulge. “Castien.”
“Yes?” The husky word was a puff of his breath on her cheek.
“Why were you complimenting the competitors?”
He blinked. His eyes unfocused, a frown flickering across his brow. Another blink, and he leaned back, smiling. That hunger was still there, but with it, caution. “I find the tournament fascinating; I've never seen so many foreign nobles in one place before.”
She curved her claws gently into his back, scratching up and down. He groaned and closed his eyes. Having the same effect on him as he did on her was all the compliment she needed.
“Listen to me, Castien.” She dug in a little harder. His back arched toward her. “I chose you. It doesn't matter how beautiful they are or how well they fight. I choseyou.”
