Page 22 of Obsidian Throne
“That...that is the question.” I didn’t want to mar the perfect space of my and Evander’s new rooms with this conversation, so I cleared my throat, going to examine the rest of the closet.
“You never did tell me where those dresses came from,” I mused aloud.
“I would think that’s obvious.” His tone was amused.
I shot him a look. “I meant that they don’t look like any other Socairan dresses I’ve seen.”
“Well, those seemed highly impractical, as you aren’t like any Socairan women I’ve seen,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“So you designed them?” I raised a teasing eyebrow, running my hands over the soft fabrics in the closet. “I never knew you took such an interest in women’s fashion.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I can assure you, I do not. I merely explained to the estate seamstress the kind of things you would be doing, that you would need the use of your hands and the ability to ride a horse and dress yourself. After she recovered from fainting over the impropriety of it,shedesigned them.”
“And do you?” I asked quietly, my hand dropping to my side.
He gave me a questioning look.
“Faint from the impropriety of it?” I clarified.
“I’m really not the fainting kind.” He chuckled, then seemed to sense that the answer mattered to me.
Taking a deep breath, he locked his eyes on mine.
“I won’t pretend that your outspoken nature doesn’t present some concerns in the context of Socairan politics,” Evander said carefully. “Things are...freer in Lochlann. There, you give your opinion and someone else gives theirs, and you both move on. Here, everything we do and don’t say is scrutinized and hoarded away to be used as a weapon.”
“Oh.” I tried and failed to keep the disappointment from my voice.
He put a finger under my chin, guiding it up until I was looking him in the eye.
“But if you’re asking whether I would have preferred a quiet wife who rode sidesaddle and didn’t have an incredibly inappropriate dagger stashed on her person at all times, the answer is a resounding no.” He bent to kiss me, his tongue teasing at the seam of my lips.
Tiny sparks of pleasure coursed up and down my skin at the touch. I leaned into it, sliding my hands up his bare chest before wrapping my arms around his neck. I stretched up on my tiptoes to be closer to him, and his hands came around to grip the backs of my thighs. He picked me up to carry me to the bed, deepening our kiss.
It was almost terrifying, the intensity with which my body craved his.
My only consolation was that at least I wasn’t here alone. Evander matched every bit of my need with his own.
He might have quipped about me testing his stamina, but he certainly didn’t seem inclined to stop now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROWAN
The next morning, we were awoken by a knock on the door.
It was so reminiscent of our first wedding night that my first thought was to panic, before I realized it was probably just breakfast.
“Enter,” Evander called, looking at me warily for some reason.
The man who came in was not dressed as a servant, nor did he have a breakfast tray. Something tugged at the back of my memory, but I didn’t put the pieces together until I heard his voice.
“Lord Stenvall. Lady Stenvall.” He nodded at Evander, then me.
It was the medic who had seen to me during my fever. Which meant…
“I trust you’re ready for the examination,” the man said.
I didn’t say anything, too busy focusing on keeping the blush from my cheeks.