Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(37)
Ildiko admired the orange trees, their dark silhouettes gilded in silver from the moon’s light. Now and then a crow would shoot up from the canopy of leaves, circle the treetops only to disappear once more into the branches’ hidden sanctuary. The shadow of an owl flew past on silent wings, its eyes as bright as Brishen’s when he laughed at something she said.
This was the first time they’d been parted from each other for more than an hour or two that wasn’t reserved for sleeping. She missed his presence—the smooth cadence of his voice, the graceful movement of his narrow hands with their lethal black claws, even the scent of his hair when he held her close, and she breathed him into her nostrils.
She’d sensed the anger simmering inside him from the moment he’d witness her kill the scarpatine until they’d reached Saggara. He’d said nothing to her about the incident other than to inquire about her well-being, but it wasn’t a stretch to assume Secmis had something to do with the nasty insect hiding among Ildiko’s bed sheets. Pride had made her offer up a half-hearted argument against leaving for Saggara right away, but she’d been more than happy to acquiesce to Brishen’s insistence they leave that evening.
Saggara was an austere place compared to Haradis and lacked many of its creature comforts. It also lacked Secmis which, for Ildiko, made it a place far superior to the Kai royal palace.
When Sinhue came to help her undress and get ready for bed, Ildiko waved her away and sent her to her own room. She was neither tired nor sleepy, but she did miss her husband. His chambers adjoined hers, and he’d told her more than once she was welcome to enter any time she wished. She did so now, pausing at the doorway to admire the space.
The furniture was plain but comfortable, the bed large with a thick mattress and piles of blankets and furs. As with his bedroom in the royal palace, this one had a hearth with a table and two chairs set before it. A half finished game of Butcher’s Covenant lay on the table. Brishen was a far better strategist than Ildiko and had won every game so far except one. She suspected he’d let her win that one.
Ildiko returned to her room to strip out of her clothes and slip on her nightrail. From the chest at the foot of her bed, she retrieved one of the three precious books she’d brought with her from Pricid—a tome of psalms and poems. She’d read it so many times, she’d memorized most of them, but they were no less enjoyable with each reading. She’d read in her husband’s bedroom until he came back from the border.
The linens on Brishen’s bed were cool and crisp, the furs soft as she tucked herself in and piled the pillows behind her back so she could read. She left the doors leading to his balcony open. His bedroom faced east, and early morning sunlight spread across the plains until it spilled over the balcony and into the room. Ildiko blew out the single candle by the bed and settled in to read by the light of the sun.
She was halfway through the book, her eyes heavy with sleep, when the bedroom door opened. Brishen stood at the threshold, dressed down to undertunic and trousers, his feet bare and his hair damp. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “Woman of day, you waited for me.”
Ildiko closed her book and offered him a drowsy smile. Relief and happiness coursed through her. “Prince of night, you’ve come back to me—your head intact.”
“I promised I’d try.” Brishen strode across the room, motioning for her to stop when she made to swing out of bed. “Move over.”
Surprised, she did as he said and made room for him on the side of the bed she’d previously occupied. He slid in next to her and covered them both with the blankets. Ildiko turned on her side and murmured her approval when he tucked her into his body and nuzzled his face against the slope where her shoulder met her neck. They’d slept like this during their travels to both Haradis and then Saggara, his lithe body both a comfort and a pleasure to lie against in slumber.
Ildiko was halfway to a dead sleep when Brishen’s soft words in her ear brought her awake.
“Sleep here each day, Ildiko.”
A sweet warmth suffused her. She entangled her legs with his and hugged his arm to her waist. “As you wish. Just don’t steal the blankets.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
High Salure nestled in a col cut between the steep sides of a pair of mountains. Endrisi oaks marched up the slopes, enrobing the sides in a dusky green cloak. These trees were different from the Solaris oaks that fronted Saggara. Shorter, with thick trunks and small leaves shaped like pendants, the Endrisi oaks grew low and wide instead of tall and were interspersed with more statuesque firs. The encroaching twilight cast their shadows long, and Brishen pointed out the shapes of red-shouldered hawks perched in their canopies to sleep while the silent owls took their place in the hunt.
A narrow path snaked up the windward slope with multiple switchbacks that made it easier for horses to navigate the slope’s pitch. Trees lined the path on either side with an understory of thorny bramble thicker than a hair mat and guaranteed to rip anything bigger than a fox to shreds. A rider wanting to reach High Salure with his and horse’s hides intact had to stay on the road—and the road was observed.
Twilight had given way to night by the time Brishen, Ildiko and their escort crossed a gentle stream and passed through a narrow wind gap to reach the fortress carved directly into the mountain. High Salure’s battlements and graceful towers rose above them, dark silhouettes against the evening sky. Lanterns and torches blazed along the walls and lined the cobbled path that led to the main gate. Brishen squinted against the light and announced himself and Ildiko to the guards at the gate.