Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(14)
“Yeah, well, that was before he and his lackeys tailed us the whole way back. What did they think, that you’d tear off toward Edana with me in tow?”
“Tear off your toe?”
She turned to see the quizzical look on his face and chuckled. “Sorry. Modernism. I just meant it wasn’t like you were going to steal me or something.”
“Tempting, but no.” He pulled her to him and bent to nip at her lower lip. When she sucked in a surprised breath, he claimed her open mouth with his, kissing her until both were breathless. With a satisfied smirk upon his swollen lips, he kissed his way to her ear, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I do wish to live long enough to see our wedding day, Adelaide. And its night.”
A shiver zigzagged down her spine at the implications in his desire-deepened timbre. “You and me both.”
Zayne released her to finish dressing, and soon started for the stable’s rear entrance. She hoped and prayed they had snuck safely back in under the radar. Addie didn’t mean to upset her father, but being confined to one place for long was beginning to wear on her. If Rosalind would hurry up and get back here, maybe he and Tristan both would stop worrying so much about where Addie should and shouldn’t go.
She cast a quick glimpse at Zayne beside her, his countenance much more relaxed than when he’d first arrived. In fact, all his movements seemed at ease now, his pace smooth and unhurried, his hand clasped warmly around one of hers. She had no doubt that if danger arose, he would protect her at all costs. But what if he wasn’t there? What if danger did arise, as her father seemed to be so preoccupied about lately? Then what would she do?
“Hey, Zayne? How long does it take to train someone to fight? You know, like with weapons and stuff?”
He shrugged. “Depends on the weapon, and the natural abilities of the warrior.”
“So, for someone like me,” she ventured, swinging their clasped hands forward and back, “what weapon would you think to start with? Swords? Knives? Honestly, archery always looked pretty cool. You’re really good at that, right?” He stopped so fast, Addie nearly toppled over. She looked back in surprise to find his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Zayne?”
“Do not ask this of me, my lady.”
“But, it could teach me how to protect myself.”
“It may also get you killed.” He took her hands in his, his gaze pleading. “These are weapons, Adelaide. Not toys. To obediently stand back and watch you risk injury might well kill me.”
“But it’s just training, Zayne. I’m not going to run out in the middle of some battle and start swinging.”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Do you promise to use what is taught to you as defense only? As a last resort?”
Addie had never seen him look so serious before. So…authoritative. In that moment, she had no doubt Zayne would someday make one hell of a king. She just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of his demands, not like this. A tiny part of her—the old, modern-day Addie—wanted to resist. To answer with fingers crossed behind her back. But if he was this worried about her, that their weapons play might truly get her hurt or even killed, deep down she knew she’d be wise to acquiesce. “I promise.”
“Good. Then we shall talk about it no more this day.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then started for the castle once more.
“But—”
“To protect you is my charge, and I shall do everything in my power to do so. While I am away, you must trust your family and their plentiful warriors to keep you safe. No one shall steal you from inside these castle walls.”
She fell silent beside him, not wanting to waste their time together arguing what seemed to be a moot point. Still, she couldn’t help but think back to the story Berinon had told her of the night she and Tristan were born, and how a lone witch had stolen her from her crib.
A crib under protection of the royal guard in this same castle two decades ago.
Zayne stood beside his beloved white steed in the stables before dinner and inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar scents of stale hay and fresh muck to push Forath’s cool, dreary castle from his mind. He had come here seeking a temporary reprieve from its servants and their ever-curious eyes, which he had endured these past few hours in silent misery. Edana’s servants never cast such glances his way. Then again, he had grown up amongst his servants, determined to understand them, to walk among them, so that when he was forced to one day become their king, he would know best what they needed.
Forced, because to rule would never be a role he’d choose on his own. With the monarchy came responsibility. And with responsibility came a loss of time. Time to be by himself, or alone with his sweet Adelaide.
The stallion at his side, whom he had been forced to leave in Forath in order to make a hasty return on wing from his last visit, nudged his pocket, impatient for the treat Zayne had filched from the reserves on his way into the stable.
“Have ye become part bloodhound, then, Will?”
Will. Zayne shook his head as he retrieved a handful of oats from his pocket. Adelaide had named his steed the day he’d first become smitten with her. Before she arrived in their world, no one named their horses, let alone any of their other farm animals. Now every head of cattle and downy chick at Godfrey Manor had a name of its own.
That was the power his betrothed wielded. While he relied on his strength and skill, all who drew near Addie were quickly spellbound by her seemingly endless joy and wonder. Could she truly not see how much more valuable her natural powers were than the ability to strike metal against metal?