Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(35)

“Thanks.” I trudge beside him into the castle. I peek up and find he’s looking at me too. My heart races, as always, and I face forward. The whole forgetting my feelings for Jovan thing isn’t going well. In fact, the feelings seem to intensify each time I see him.

“Were you successful?” he asks after a few moments.

I listen to our surroundings for eavesdroppers while rubbing the tightness in my neck. Most of the tension is from training the day before. Maybe I’ve grown soft, like Shard was teasing me. I’d have to add an hour on to what I was already doing in my quarters.

I bring the king up to speed on everything that happened over the last three days. Everything except the self-defense classes, which I want to trial first. I hesitate over what I’ve found out about Blaine and I need to tell him.

“Jovan … about Blaine,” I start.

He sighs and leans against the wall. “Can we talk about it later?”

I blink. Really, I want to insist he listens now, but at least he’s receptive to some kind of discussion, even if it’s tomorrow. “Okay,” I agree. A yawn attacks me.

“You’re tired. I can have food sent to your room if you’d like,” he says. I smile up at him—though he can’t see it.

“I’m actually longing for a bath,” I say truthfully.

Something happens when I say “bath.” The air tightens around us. It’s as if my insides contract and swirl, all at the same time. It’s happened before, several times, but perhaps I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I don’t know how my mind has leaped from bath to thinking about Jovan without clothes. But it does. The king leans in, eyes contemplative. I acknowledge the feeling for what it is.

Hunger.

I should move. The same reason which had me walking away from the barracks today, instead of running back, is screaming at me to be responsible. Step back, push him away, or clear your damn throat. Do something!

I stay frozen. I was able to walk away from the barracks, but right now leaning away from Jovan requires more strength than I have.

I twist away, though he has yet to touch me, and place a hand on the stone wall of the hallway to steady myself so my knees don’t buckle—because I’m reeling with a dreadful discovery. I don’t just have feelings for Jovan, I—

“My King, a message has arrived from Minister Harris,” a watchman interrupts. I close my eyes, hoping our display wasn’t witnessed.

“Bring it to my chambers.” Jovan’s voice sounds unsteady. Is he as affected as I am? “And send order to the kitchens for a bath to be drawn for the Tatuma in her chamber.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly without looking at him. I can’t. Surely he will know what I’m thinking if I face him.

“Always,” he says.

*

The bath is incredible. Pure, unadulterated bliss. I reach for my veil as the door creaks open.

“Only me,” Olandon murmurs from behind the screen. I relax back in the tub. It’s been well over an hour. I should get out.

“I’ve got food for you,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice I don’t understand.

I stand up and water drips from me in noisy splashes, sloshing over the sides. “Is something the matter?” I ask.

“The king of Glacium treats me like a common lackey. Even if you are my sister, he has no right to order me around. I was going to bring you food myself before he even said to.”

I bite back a laugh. It seems Jovan has found the perfect way to get under my brother’s skin. My brother’s anger is adorable. It reminds me of young Olandon, before he got moody and contemplative.

“And someone is playing tricks on me,” he continues as I dry myself with a fur.

“Oh?” I prod.

“Ashawn thinks it must be one of the kitchen staff, though this does not feel right to me. The pranks are harmless, but it is hardly respectful.” I listen as he storms about the room. When he finds out it’s Ashawn pranking him, he’ll be furious.

“Indeed, brother. Do you think they do it because you are Solati?” I ask.

“They don’t do it to you,” he says. “Do they?”

"No," I reply and clutch my stomach in laughter, still out of sight, as he resumes his furious pacing. His footsteps scrape on the stone flooring. “Well, why would they only do it to you?” I pull on fresh clothing and round the screen to see his bewildered expression.

“I don’t know,” he says. “What do I care what a Bruma thinks of me anyway?” he scoffs.

I push my hair up into a low knot. “I thought you might care what one person in particular thinks, actually.”

Olandon stiffens, his face horrified. I mock frown. “Brother, I was only teasing.” But now I know there is some truth to Ashawn’s comment the other day—someone, a woman, had been ‘taking care’ of my brother—whatever that means. I’ll be interrogating Fiona for the truth. I turn to the pear and biscuits before me, wondering if Jovan made the plate up for me.

I place a hand on Olandon’s arm. “Please, brother. Tell me of these pranks. We’ll see if we can get to the bottom of it all.”

*

I burst into laughter, throwing myself back on the bed. “You stepped in what!”

A reluctant grin spreads across my brother’s face. “It seems funny now, but I can assure you it wasn’t at the time. I thought I was protecting the castle by stamping out the fire. Then I am rewarded with animal leavings on the sole of my boot.”