“Add it to the list,” Lunelle sighed, resting her head on his.
“What time does Lura typically wake you?” he asked.
Lunelle giggled against him. “If you can rouse yourself, you’ve got time to get to me.”
Mirquios sat up, unsure how to accomplish it. “Pinch me,” he commanded her.
“Mirquios!” Lunelle laughed, but she reached for him anyway, pinching his forearm.
“Damn,” he murmured. “Still here.”
“Perhaps something more intriguing,” she whispered, climbing over his lap and wrapping herself up in him. She sank her hips over his, the motion strange and slow in the astral, but at the first sound of pleasure from her throat, the king disappeared from beneath her.
It took him all of five minutes to make it to her door.
Breakfast could not holdher attention.
She’d been watching her parents carefully, unnerved by the tension between them.
Do you think Mother and Father are fighting?she beamed to Astra, who was also strangely preoccupied this morning.
Perhaps they were all just drowning in the discomfort between her and the Plutonian prince, whom she’d done her best to stay far, far away from.
What makes you ask that?Astra replied. Lunelle’s eyes shifted toward her mother, who looked slightly more agitated than she normally did, and her father, who never looked anything other than happy to be present, a frown wearing lines on his lips.
They just seem at odds, Lunelle sent back.
“Yallara sent a missive for you yesterday, Princess,” Arcas mumbled beside her. His sudden comment pulled her from the conversation with her sister.
“Good,” Lunelle replied. “I miss her.”
“Perhaps she could visit soon,” Arcas said.After he was king, he wanted to add, Lunelle could taste it.
“Princess?” Astra and Lunelle’s heads both snapped toward the end of the table, where Mirquios stared at them expectantly.
Lunelle forced her gaze away from him. He did not mean her. He should not mean her.
“Sorry,” Astra offered, her mother’s eyes flickering over her.
“I was telling Arcas here what a talented rider you are. He has an affinity for dragons.”
“Oh,” Astra sighed. “Do you ride?”
Arcas kept his eyes fixed on his teacup. “I don’t. But I find them fascinating. We don’t have them in the Outer Courts.”
The commander leaned forward, his amber gaze rippling across the table.
“Perhaps you could introduce him to Riverion.”
“Do not take the prince near that beast!” their mother declared—her tone very much that of an order, not a warning. “You’ll forgive me, Arcas, but Riverion has a history of unpredictable behavior around men,” she said. Oestera glared at her second-born, she knew better than to risk Riverion’s unpredictability around nobility.
Lunelle thought it sounded like a better solution than any of the other half-baked plans rolling around in her head.
“Odd,” Mirquios said. “Luxuros seemed to find him quite amiable. I’ve yet to brave the introduction.”
Lunelle’s jaw nearly dropped, but she tensed the muscle at the last second, feeling her mother’s watchful eye. She was stunned her sister would let anyone near her beast, especially someone she’d sworn to loathe not two months earlier.
Astra Leona, you let the commander meet Riverion!
