Page 49 of A Suitable Captive


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“I’m thinking of everyone’s safety,” Lan responded, but pulled a knife from his belt and cut through the rope without another comment. He had to let go of Fen to do it, and then he and Quan eyed each other tensely before Lan sheathed the knife again and turned to study Fen. “Did it bother you to see her tied so?” he asked Fen softly, although Quan surely heard, which made Fen grow even hotter. “Or was it that it wasmyrope?” He seemed to know the answer although Fen said nothing. “Give me your hands, flower.”

He gathered the rope and then looped it slowly around each of Fen’s wrists before pulling it to bring them together. Then he wound the rope around both wrists to make the pressure tight. He tied one knot before loosely coiling the rest of the long rope around his forearm.

“Is the tying of hands after a declaration a Bal tradition too?” Quan demanded, perhaps with some confusion or annoyance, but then, she was worried and likely exhausted.

“It’sourtradition,” Fen explained without looking at her. He stared at Lan. “I don’t leave today? I can stay for now?”

“We have time yet before the weather will turn. Weeks, if we are blessed.” For once, Lan had no other comment about the fae’s interference. “Time enough for you to plot and speak with your cousin. Orcousins, since you also have been teaching me about the Bal and must have ideas there too, and whoever is next in your plans.”

“And return to your bed?” Fen prompted, barely aware of Quan turning sharply away to look elsewhere. He imagined the open yearning in his voice had embarrassed her. “And stay with you?”

“So that’s six more,” Fen heard Tellan remark somewhere out of his line of sight, “people as well as horses. We’re supposed to be readying for travel and now I’ll need a tent for an honored guest.”

“The ground is fine,” Quan insisted. “I’ll not be separated from my people.”

“Shame,” Tellan answered boldly, “because there was room in my tent for you.”

Quan sucked in a startled breath.

“Lan,” Artil interrupted all of that with quiet tact, “I’m sorry. But we need to know if we’re leaving tomorrow.”

Lan looked at Fen, one eyebrow raised.

“One more night here,” Fen suggested, thinking of tents and beds, but then ducked his head. “If you agree, Lan.”

“A suggestion only?” Lan replied lightly. It might have been teasing. But he bent down to press a kiss to Fen’s brow and his whisper made Fen warm all over. “Good cub.”

Shortly afterward, Dol and Race pulled him from Lan once Lan turned away to speak with Tellan. Each pressed a kiss to Fen’s cheek and gave him smiles that Fen didn’t know how to address, so he didn’t. He asked if Race was truly well after whatever skirmish had occurred in the woods when the two parties had found each other. And because he had never congratulated them when they had declared their intentions before witnesses and yet they were giving him smiles and friendly kisses, he informed Dol that according to Ati, there was a plant at the base of the foothills that was used in dyes of flaming reds.

Then a tug at the rope drew Fen back to Lan’s side, where Tellan was grinning and Artil’s eyebrows were high as he stared at Fen’s wrists.

Fen looked to Tellan. “I’ll help you with the new arrivals in a moment.”

Tellan wrinkled her nose, then shook her head. “No hurry, Fen-flower.” Fen must not have hidden his confusion well, because she glanced to Lan before leaning toward Fen to whisper. “That’s not the traditional sort of way to follow an announcement of intent, unless you really want to. You two do seem to make your own traditions, don’t you?”

She looked at Fen’s wrists with raised eyebrows as well, although her grin stayed in place.

Fen met Lan’s increasingly amused gaze. “In the middle of the day? People are awake and will hear.”

“That concerns you?” Artil asked, strangled.

“We could also simply be alone together.” Lan’s focus was on Fen. “We’ve time enough for that. Though I should clean up first, and if you’d rather help Tellan…”

He closed his mouth when Fen headed off, cutting a line across the camp to walk directly toward Lan’s tent. He followed Fen without another word, Fen’s bindings pulling slightly as if Lan hadn’t released his end of the rope. Fen stopped when he realized that, but as he was already at the tent, Lan continued past him to go inside, taking up the slack in the rope as he did.

Fen tripped after him into the shaded interior and blushed hot for the cheers and whistles from the others that were loud enough to make a few of the dogs howl.

“Courting?” It fell from him without any sort of forethought the moment Lan turned to face him.

Lan regarded Fen with surprise. “Oh, The Flower wasn’t expecting that, so he had no plots ready?” If he mocked Fen, it was light mockery, because he was already pulling on the rope to bring Fen close, and once Fen was there, Lan grew serious. “With courting, as with anything,no,yes,slower, ormore, and I will listen.”

“Yes, but, Lan, I told you that you could keep me near for other reasons and I wouldn’t mind.”

Lan arched one eyebrow. Fen had yet to ask him if it hurt where it had been pierced.

“You worry about me plotting,” Fen finally admitted anxiously. “There are others who might do for more intimate alliances for you. Others who do not plot.”

“And if I wrapped them in rope as I’ve wrapped you?” Lan demanded calmly, smiling when Fen stared at him in shock. “There might be others out there who would suit well enough, if it came to that. But I doubt they’d last long with you near. Scheming flower.” Lan said it fondly. “I’ll protect your rivals by not allowing you to have any. Fuck, butthatis what should worry me.”