Chapter
Thirty-Two
Galantia Present Day, Deepmarsh Castle, stables
right energy pulsed in my fingertips as I ran my gloved hand down along the mane of Sebian’s gelding, watching the steamy plumes coming from his nostrils rise into the hay above, which heB nibbled through the gaps in the wooden slats. I couldn’t wait to spend the day by the sea, watching Raven children jump off the cliffs. How wonderful it had to be, to fall toward waves before gliding across the endless water!
I turned toward the courtyard, impatiently casting my eyes over a square that had still been rather quiet when I’d come down here. Now, it bustled with highborn humans and newly-ascended Ravens alike, matching the excitement coursing through my veins. Where was Sebian? Malyr must have kept him engaged far longer than anticipated.
Behind me, hooves clip-clopped over cobblestone, followed by a deep, “Are you lost, little dove?”
I spun around, breath catching at the unexpected sight of Malyr standing beside a black horse, reins in hand. If he was here, then where…
Where was Sebian?
“I’m waiting for Sebian,” I said, taking in Malyr’s fine riding outfit of black leather and dark blue velvet, which matched the saddle blanket. “He’s to take me to the cliffs today.”
Malyr stroked the reins over the head of his horse and down to its withers, giving me a side glance. “It appears to me he must have forgotten.”
“He told me to wait here for him only moments ago.” Or an hour ago? I once more took in the bustling square, fingers stroking over my dress of brown silk and fox pelt, where a dull ache wormed through my belly. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Of course he would.
He’d promised.
Malyr smacked his lips. “Sebian flew north a good while ago, to where some of my scouts spotted Prince Domren’s banners. It appears as though the Dranadian prince is in search of a new wife and alliance, and Sebian is eager to find his heart with an arrow.”
“Oh.” That was all I managed to say as disappointment and understanding quarreled at my core.
I’d wanted to see the tumbling movements of young ravens so badly, but… “Well, it’s understandable that this has precedence, given the loss Prince Domren had caused him. I cannot blame him for wanting revenge.”
“No?” Malyr took me in, letting his eyes take an unabashed stroll over my form. “Not even if it comes in the lovely shape of Domren’s betrothed writhing beneath him, moaning his name?”
That ache in my stomach turned into a hard ball of pressure. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you think he was so eager to pursue you at first? Taking care of your wound? Offering refuge during a storm? Waiting for you to run into his open arms each time you fled from mine? Out of selflessness? Love at first sight?” His focus was on adjusting the girth where my vision blurred around the edges, because I knew full well that Sebian’s reason had been none of those. “The time a man has to wait before he can kill his enemy is well spent between the legs of his enemy’s betrothed, don’t you agree?” His eyes found mine once more, one cheek bunching up at his lopsided smirk. “Or his daughter.”
A spell of nausea flitted through my stomach, here one second and rationalized away the next.
That might have been in the beginning, but things were different between Sebian and me now.
Weren’t they?
“Clearly, his motivations have changed.” I lifted my chin, feigning aloofness, but it didn’t get rid of that bitter taste the nausea had left in the back of my throat. “I am no longer Domren’s betrothed.”
“No, indeed not. You are mine now.” Malyr extended his arm in a graceful gesture, taking my hand
into his. “May I?”
“May you… what?”
“Take you to the cliffs instead,” he said and slowly guided me closer to him. “A poor consolation, I know, for I cannot seem to compete with Sebian’s… charm. I tried it once; you ran away.”
Because I struggled to trust his charm, fearing a vile, ulterior motive lurking beneath. “Not for lack of skill, but rather… questionable motivations.”
“I always thought myself rather honest about my motivations. But be that as it may… salt in the air, children playing, ravens soaring through the sky,” Malyr dragged that last word out, obviously taunting me with all those things I’d been looking forward to. And it was working, given how that excited energy returned to my fingers, buzzing beneath my nails. “Allow me to take you. It has been much too long since I last jumped off a cliff.”
“The idea of watching you throw yourself down is tempting…”
“Yes, I hoped that the fantasy of my untimely death might get you to agree.” He sighed exaggeratedly, which lent the sound some humor, then gave me a wink. “Does it? Or has my hope been misplaced?”
My lips twitched at his unexpected playfulness, that wink I didn’t know his facial muscles could produce. And truly, what would be the harm? I was here; I was dressed. Why would I deny myself such an adventure just because Sebian chased after revenge?
Malyr leaned into me, whispering by my ear, “I assure you, little dove, I won’t be on my best behavior.”
My blood thickened at the way his whisper tugged on fine wisps of hair. He might have caught me off-guard during the kjaer, confusing me from head and heart, but I was prepared now. If I kept my wits about me, then I had nothing to fear.
No treacherous flutters.
No dangerous longing.
No ridiculous hope.
I gave a nod. “Very well.”
Malyr let his hands frame my waist. “I take it you were only instructed in side-saddle?”
“I was never formally instructed at all.”
“You are not fond of horses?”
“Oh, I’m very fond of them; I watched riders from the walls often, pretending I was cantering as I ran along the bailey.” When he lifted me toward his steed’s back, I clawed my fingers around the pommel of the saddle. “I snuck off to the pastures many times to climb onto the horses’ backs while they grazed, kicking their sides until they fell into a canter or bucked me off, whichever came first.”
When Malyr plopped me into the saddle and the ground seemed to fall away beneath me, I pressed my calves tightly against the horse’s rump. The stupid thing started dancing around nervously, making me sway and slip.
“It’s moving,” I said, clasping the saddle tighter. “Why is it moving?”
“Because you’re telling him to. Stop pinching his sides.” Malyr grabbed some leather strap on the saddle and jumped up, mounting effortlessly behind me. “The more you tense, the more nervous Liual will get.” His gloved fingers stroked down along mine, up, then down again, until they slowly lured my hands off the pommel. “Let them hang by your sides, or you’ll keep throwing yourself out of balance. Olivar?”
The young boy ran over from the stable, gleaming up at Malyr with a wide grin. “My prince?”
“Have a blanket ready by the sea in an hour, along with refreshments.” Malyr grabbed the reins with one hand, shifted his balance behind me, and, when I nearly slipped off at Liual’s turn, slung his other arm around my belly, pulling me back into the center and tightly against him. “Make that two hours.”
“Yes, my prince!” the boy said and hurried off.
Malyr pressed his cheek against my temple. “Remember the night you rolled your hips like a bitch in heat with my cock nudged at your cunt, begging me so nicely to breed you, little dove?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m afraid I can’t recall.”
“A shame, considering I cannot get it out of my head how you tempted me.” One click of Malyr’s tongue, and the horse moved forward at a walk, following the pathway toward a smaller gate. “Move like you did that night, and we might reach the cliffs before noon.”
I wasn’t sure what was worse—that he made me remember my poor attempt at seducing him, or that his suggestion actually held merit. The more I allowed my pelvis to rock in-tune with his, the less
I swayed and shifted. Soon, I found my way into the familiar motion, gaining balance.
“How can you be certain which way to go?” I asked after a while. “Have you traveled along this road on horseback before?”
He steered Liual around the carcass of a deer that the wolves must have gotten. “No. Navigating the lands and winds comes natural to us. I feel it in my core, where the sea lies, the castles, the mountains.”
And I knew nothing of the lands beyond what I’d seen on maps. “A Raven on a horse. Why bother learning how to ride if flying is faster?”
“Why bother flying if riding costs me close to no energy? It appears you taught yourself a solid seat in those pastures. Take these.” Malyr split the reins and weaved them through my fingers before he grabbed my wrists and positioned my hands to float to each side of the pommel. “Don’t let go of them.”
My knuckles stiffened. “Why did you let go of them?”
“Your first formal lesson. I cannot expect my human wife to move at the speed of my ravens, but I certainly won’t tolerate the slowness of a carriage each time we have to travel in the future.” A tap on my knuckle. “All it takes is the faintest tug on the rein to steer him in any direction you wish him to go.
If you shorten them both, he will go slower. If you give them to him, he will go faster.” He pointed to the left. “Cross over that meadow there.”
My pulse spiked at the challenge, the opportunity to finally do something I’d always wanted. As instructed, I gave the tiniest tug on the left rein, chest lifting at the way the grinding of rock and sand beneath us turned into the dulled thuds of hooves sinking into flattened bushels of yellow grass.
Malyr pointed toward an evergreen forest that lay ahead. “How about you race him all the way to the edge of those pines?”
“Race him?” My heart gave a clank against my throat. “I… I don’t think I should.”
His arm slung around my middle once more. “I will not let you fall. All you have to do is brace for those first couple of thrusts as he gains speed; the rest is easy to sit, so as long as you follow his movements. Trust me.”
He might as well ask me to make the clouds break open. “I… I don’t know…”
“Where has the woman gone who marched into my chambers demanding a wedding, hmm? My shadows get you slick, but the premise of a brief canter has you stammer? Is this not what you pretended to do?” Malyr asked. “When you ran along the bailey?”
“Yes, but—”
“Stop pretending, Galantia,” he said. “Do it. Lean slightly forward, press your legs against him, and say, alesh.”
My pulse fluttered in my throat. “It’s dangerous.”
“Mmm, did your mother not tell you?” he whispered with a shove of his nose at my temple. “My little white dove, so is playing with knives.”
A flutter infused my veins, sending such a thrill through my body, my fingers tightened around the reins. Yes, she’d told me. Don’t touch the knife, Galantia. Don’t run, Galantia. Don’t walk in the rain, Galantia. But most definitely, don’t canter a horse across a wet meadow through flurries of snow while in the arms of the deadly Raven prince, Galantia.
Nonsensical rules. Well, I’d wanted rid of them, had I not? And who was there to stop me?
Nobody.
Heart pounding in my chest, I leaned slightly forward and, at the bump of my calves, said, “Alesh!”
A single jolt lifted me out of the saddle as Liual’s back seemed to arch. His powerful hind legs thrust us away from the ground, sending us forward and into a gust of wind just as my ass hit the seat once more. Beneath me, the outline of his forelegs blurred as they extended further, moved faster, changing thuds to thunder.
“Good,” Malyr praised me loudly, his words slightly distorted by the whistling of the wind.
“Keep following his movements.”
I cantered across the glistening meadow with Malyr at my back, our bodies rolling in-tune with the rhythm of Liual’s motion. Cold snowflakes dotted my face as the biting chill whipped my cheeks numb. The wind tugged on my hair in the same way Risa had when she’d wanted to keep me from running when I was a child, but I was too fast. Faster than ever before!
Alive!
Something black pushed into my periphery, making me dare a glance that sent a whirl of energy into my belly, making me realize the warmth of Malyr’s arm had disappeared.
Instead, five ravens soared through the wind, fluttering around me in acrobatic movements. They rolled and sunk, rose and scattered, gliding along the ground beside the booming hoofbeats.
A cheeky grin lifted the corners of my mouth. One tug on the rein, and Liual shifted left, forcing the raven by his feet to flutter and drift upward on a warning caw. A rolling laugh bubbled from my chest until it distorted into a squeal when claws dug into my hair, giving a little pull before the raven above me somersaulted through the air to a string of croaks as if he was laughing back at me.
Dense, bright pressure filled my ribcage, each inhale sending cold, clean, unadulterated joy through my body. This was wonderful, magical. Like another dance, no less breathtaking than the last one, making me the axis of Malyr’s circling unkindness.
Until Liual stumbled.
Nothing but a single out-of-tune bump before he regained his rhythm, but unexpected enough I curled my fingers into the pommel. Bouncing followed, making me shift, slip, and sway.
In a burst of feathers, black plumes wavered and weaved through the air, their fluid forms gliding effortlessly between the realm of magic and reality. Like a whisper in the air, they undulated around me, only to morph into an arm clasping around my middle once again.
“Da’eyha…” Malyr said calmly behind me, steadying me against Liual’s trotting steps for a beat or two before the horse settled back into a walk, then he placed his mouth by my cheek. “How was that, hmm?”
“Wonderful!” I said with a laugh as I sensed his lips curl against my cheek.
Was he…? No, that couldn’t be. I looked back at him once more, only for the sight to steal the wind from my sails.
Right there, on those lips that had tasted like autumn sweetness during our almost-kiss, a heart- rending smile clung to the wavering corners as if it didn’t quite remember how to survive on Malyr’s usually severe mouth. But it did, causing one treacherous flutter in my chest after another for each
second it lasted.
And, gods help me, did it last… “Watch your balance and look forward.” Malyr lifted his hand to my head where he raked his nails over my scalp the way he’d done it at the kjaer, grooming me, gently urging my gaze back forward. “Queen Taramia’s ladies-in-waiting knew her husband had her ear cut off. They decided to wear their hair braided like their queen out of solidarity, much to King Willem’s displeasure. He had them all beheaded.”
My breathing slowed at that, my lungs caught between surprise and confusion. “You were
watching me earlier?”
“Little dove, I have watched you dozens of times, from rafters, dark corners, through windows.”
His words hushed across the shell of my ear, sending a lovely shudder down my neck. “Just because you cannot see me does not mean that we cannot see you. And how we love to observe your excitement when you explore merchant’s wares, read by the window, or twitch your lips in delight at the sight of blackberries.”
My mind went back to the kjaer, to the many bowls of fruit on our table, and how certain his fingers had reached for the berry. Should someone who truly hated me know quite so much about the things that delighted me? There was no painless answer to that.
“Why?” I asked. “Why watch me?”
“Presume it is something as simple as the fact that you are beautiful,” he said. “Except when you fight me… then you are stunning.”
“Careful now.” The words came slowly, breathily. More warning to myself than him. “You promised not to be on your best behavior.”
“Oh, but I happen to love how it flusters you.” His chuckle came with those fingers that gently combed through my hair before he nuzzled my temple. “And if you run from it this time? Little dove, there will only be one set of arms left to run into. Mine.”
