Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(60)

“Rhys, I need to speak with my betrothed in private,” she announced.

“My debt is paid.” Rhys looked at Torquil and then at her as he pronounced, “Your secrets are both safe with me. There is no one else who needs to know either of these affinities.”

Then he bowed deeply and left them.

Once they were alone, or as alone as they could be with the watchers outside the tower, she asked, “And those dreams that . . . were unlike my old ones? The ones of us . . .” She couldn’t say the words, didn’t know how to go from thinking she was having dreams to realizing that they had shared those experiences. In a surprisingly steady voice, she admitted, “I don’t know what to say here. Help me understand . . . why did you do that?”

“The first was an accident. I was weak because I knew that you were not uninterested in me, and my own dream projected to you,” he admitted. “I did not mean to do so that first time, Eilidh. I swear it.”

“And then?”

“And then . . . I looked at your dreams intentionally; I saw a dream not so unlike my own. The second time that I know that you dreamed of what we could be like together—that was your mind’s creation, not mine. I simply saw it.” Torquil stroked her hair tenderly, even as his eyes darkened with something more intense. “The rest were not a coincidence. Some were my doing, and others were yours. I watched them as often as I could. They were all that kept me from believing you found me repugnant. In our waking hours, you were so cold . . . so dismissive. If I hadn’t known of the things you dreamed, I might’ve given up. But I did know. I couldn’t touch another fae after that. All I could do was count the hours until we could dream together again.”

“Oh,” she said. There were so many things he was saying, so many revelations that she couldn’t fathom how she’d been oblivious to each of them. In the midst of her shock was a not-insignificant measure of embarrassment. To know that she’d directed some of those dreams . . . it was hard not to feel awkward.

“Do you feel the dream, as I do?” she asked.

He didn’t make her clarify further, fortunately.

“Every touch.” He looked at her as she’d seen fae look upon one another, with so much fire in his eye that she could scarcely breathe. “Because of my affinity, it is as real as if we were awake.”

“I see.”

“As it is for you,” he continued.

As he spoke, Eilidh realized that he was the safest possible spouse she could hope for. In dreams, there was no risk of a child. Part of her wished she could tell Endellion of his affinity. If the queen knew, perhaps she would allow a ceremony.

It was a matter to ponder. Not now. Possibly not even soon, but there would be a time to discuss the matter.

Then Torquil spoke again. “I wanted to give it time, to court you properly, but then you were walking away. You were telling me to find a wife as if you had no feelings, as if you didn’t dream of me, of us with the sort of passion that I’ve never known. So I declared myself.”

“Because we dream of mating?” Eilidh tried to dismiss it, to find a way to shelter her heart. “You don’t have to marry for that, Torquil.”

“I love you, Eilidh.” He swallowed nervously. “I know you were trapped when I chose to marry you, but if you give me a chance maybe you’ll feel differently in time.”

“I won’t.” She felt tears in her eyes as emotions overwhelmed her.

“Oh,” Torquil murmured. He turned away in defeat.

“I already love you,” she clarified. “I have loved you for years.”

And there, in her glass tower, with faeries of both courts watching them, she kissed her betrothed, not as a maiden kisses, but with the sort of passion she’d only known in dreams. Torquil’s touch and taste were as familiar as if they’d done this a hundred thousand times.

“We can only be where the people can see us,” Eilidh told him several moments later as she stepped back from him, resuming the proper distance to respect the queen’s orders. Kissing wasn’t forbidden, but the things that, in her dreams, came after that would be. She met her betrothed’s eyes and asked, “Would you nap with me?”

Torquil laughed happily. “I’ve waited months, thinking of telling you, wanting to dream together a purpose.”

Eilidh took his hand in hers and walked with him to the sofa. They sat, her leaning against his chest and him with an arm around her, until they fell asleep and dreamed together while the spies and fae staring into the glass tower had no idea of the joy that the betrothed fae in the tower were experiencing as they slept.





twenty-five


LILY

The next night, Lily met Creed and Zephyr at the same walled garden where she’d first thought she could be hidden. The fae-blood, because she refused to accept that they were true fae, apparently used it regularly for the same reasons she’d wanted it. There was a privacy in it that was precious to fae-blood trying to hide from the world. She couldn’t begrudge them their need of it any more than she’d expect them to ban her from it. The problem, she expected, would be when she refused to go along with their madness about being soldiers for Endellion.

The day itself had been uneventful, which was a relief as she suspected they’d need their wits sharp shortly.