The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(114)
EPILOGUE
Maia was a little weary from their ride from Briec to Roc-Adamour, but they had arrived at the city carved into the mountain before sunset. She and Collier had taken a secret path up to the manor at the top of the hill rather than using the normal roads. The grooms were stabling their horses, brushing them down and feeding them. So long ago it seemed when the king’s collier had led her and her companions to this very manor and provided them with mounts and provisions.
Inside their bedchamber in the manor, she rubbed her sore arm and gazed out the window at the majestic view—the sunset over the ragged cliffs. Lights from the town below were already starting to dispel the encroaching darkness, and she imagined the pots of melted cheese and skewers of meat being served in the inns. There was a veranda outside the window decorated with ornate furniture and a sculpted garden full of Leerings. She did not want the light to ruin the view, so she kept them tamed for now.
Collier set aside his riding gloves and cloak, and she heard him approach behind her, then felt his stubble grazing the back of her neck, making her shiver.
“Does your arm still pain you?” he asked her, stroking her arms with his hands as he continued to nuzzle her.
“The wounds are mostly healed,” she said, tilting her head to one side to expose more of her neck to him.
“Have you enjoyed your tour of the realm, my lady?” he asked her, nipping at her earlobe playfully. “There are many wonderful sights in Dahomey, of course, but this one has always been a favorite.” He rested his chin in the nook of her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her. “You notice the difference when we are not at court. I prefer the anonymity. I think you actually prefer these simple gowns to the ornate confections at court. I have always fancied that about you.”
“Have you?” she said. “Why spend so much on a costly gown that cannot be worn except for at state functions? I would rather give it to the poor.”
“Yes. You have not despoiled all your treasures yet on the poor, though you try. It seems the faster you give it away, the faster new coins fill our coffers. Did you like staying at the Gables last night? The young folks who danced with us did not know who we were.”
“Some may have recognized us from before,” Maia said. She hugged his arms to her and swayed gently.
“I am going to fetch you a lute,” he said. “I have two here, I believe. You and I will play music to each other before our meal arrives and then we will discuss where to go next. You want to rebuild an abbey in Mon, and I want to see the lost abbey. There are soldiers to protect and guard it, and I would like to make sure they understand its significance. Shall we play?”
“I would like that very much,” Maia said. She turned, the window and view now behind her, and kissed his cheek and then took his hand, letting him lead her to the sumptuous couches nearby. The large four-post bed was crafted by master artisans and stained a dark umber color. She loved admiring the tapestries on the walls, the distinctly Dahomeyjan designs that she had always found appealing. She still could not get over the change in her life in the weeks since their marriage and her sudden coronation. Collier explored several chests on the other side of the bed until he found the hidden instruments. After picking one from the collection, he brought it over to her, and they tuned the strings together.
“Cruix or cursed?” he asked her, twisting the pegs.
“We are closer to the lands you wish to see,” Maia said, testing the strings for the sound and adjusting them.
“I know,” he said with a sly smile. “Why do you think I suggested Roc-Adamour? For the cheese and soup?”
“I forgot for a moment that you are extremely cunning, my lord husband,” Maia said, striking a chord that resonated richly. It was perfect. She shifted the chord and made it sound strained. “But when you boast of it, it ruins the effect.”
He smiled at the byplay and her choice of words. “Yes, I need your meekness to counteract my temperament. We are well suited for each other, truly.” He strummed his instrument and nodded with satisfaction. “Speaking of which, I think I have a suitor for Jayn Sexton that you would approve of. I know you have worried about her.”
“And who is that?” Maia asked, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Collier frowned and stopped his little tune. “That was too quick for dinner. We only just arrived.”
The door opened and the steward of the manor entered.
“What is it, Fouchon?” Collier asked pleasantly enough, though the expression on the steward’s face showed he sensed his king’s subtle annoyance.
“I am sorry, my lord,” Fouchon said gravely, his voice perturbed. “I had no intention of interrupting you and my lady so soon, but there is a beggarly man just arrived who claims you owe him a great deal of money.”
Collier looked confused and set down the lute. “Oh really? And did he say how much?”
“I think he may be jesting, but he said the sum was twenty-five thousand marks—or a sheriffdom—and . . . even with that limp . . . he said he would chop down the door if I did not let him in and tell you both he was here.” He had an air of suffering. “Shall I have him thrown—?”
Maia shoved away the lute and sprang from the couch so she could rush to the door, hurrying to see her hunter once again.