Chapter 7

W e sat together on a half-round sofa atop a low, cordoned-off platform, angled for the best view of the musicians on stage. I had Emily set it up for us, complete with a small wooden table for refreshments—plus a naughty gift for Kerys, hidden underneath the couch.

My hands twitched, my tail swiping under the seat, sliding along the box.

It was the first surprise I had planned, and I couldn't wait to show her.

After a moment, she spoke up. "If I had known you were Xar'vathi, I would have brought a translation gem from the brothel or hired a mage to cast a translation spell on me. Then we could've communicated in your native tongue." Her eyes went wide, mouth opening and closing without a sound. "I meant for your convenience, not because your Elvish is lacking," she added quickly.

I bit back a grin. "It's fine. If I want to speak only Xar'vathi, I'll stay in Xar'vath."

She let out a huge, relieved breath. Her gaze slid along the crowd before looking back to me, glossy, all too fucking kissable lips curling into a polite smile while she folded her hands in her lap.

"If this is your party, don't you want to mingle with the other guests, too?" she asked.

I leaned forward, squinting as I stifled a snicker. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"

"Creators, no! That's not what I meant!" She swallowed thickly, a flush lighting up her cheeks. "I just don't want to keep you, or make you feel obligated to spend time with me beyond the sex if?—"

"Everyone else in this hall"—I shook my head, waving my tail in a careless arc—"inviting them is a formality." Though every muscle in my body was taut as a bowstring, aching for her, I gave Kerys my best attempt at a relaxed grin. "No one here is of interest to me. No one can hold my attention … apart from you ."

"I … see," she said, squirming in her seat. Her eyes drifted to my groin, her thighs pressing together, and I imagined pushing my hand between them.

I needed to make her a little uncomfortable, a little too hot under her non-existent collar. I needed to get beneath her skin, get her curious, make her wonder why she feels about me the way she does. And the way she felt about me was obvious—attracted.

Shit, not like I was doing any better.

I was bursting with anxiety to touch her, to kiss her. My fingers were almost trembling, my gut twisted in knots. Not to mention the massive erection hiding under my strategically placed arm across my lap.

My chest burned hotter with every passing second of not holding her. If I didn't feel her soon, I was going to combust.

I didn't want her to think I only wanted to fuck because that was far from the truth. I wanted to spend my life with her, but Gods be damned, I'd never been a patient man. And a century of abstaining, stroking myself night after night after night to the thought of my beautiful wife—I was feral with need for her.

"Drinks!" I shouted, snapping my fingers, and a maid hurried from the crowd, carrying a silver tray.

"A dry red vintage for you, sir," the woman said, placing a glass on the low table. "And sparkling white wine with fresh raspberries for Miss Ellaryth."

Kerys beamed a grin at me, relaxing a little. "Oh, thank you! I don't get to drink this very often, but it's my favorite! How did you know?"

"I ordered Emily to ask the brothel's bartender when she visited to pay your fee."

A lie, of course. I simply remembered her preference from all those nights we'd sat in our garden, a smile on her lips as she dropped berries into sparkling wine.

Surprise was written all over her face, an unspoken question blooming in the pout of her lips and the wrinkle between her brows. We both knew the bartender at the Emporium didn't serve fancy drinks like this, which meant there was no point in telling him about it, and she likely never had.

Before she had a chance to ponder my answer, I slid closer, draping an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened. A shiver ran through me as we touched, every brush over her pebbling skin lightning in my fingertips. I tilted my head, breathing in her scent.

Peaches, oranges, and vanilla.

Gods, she smelled good enough to eat. I wanted to taste her. Even if her lips were poison, promising a slow, agonizing death, I would have laid down my life for a single kiss.

Kerys's throat bobbed as she swallowed, her gaze flicking to my mouth, pupils blown.

She wanted it, too, and that just made it worse. Unbearable. But I had hired her as a comfort woman, and before anything happened between us, I wanted her to realize I wasn't just after her body like the sycophants she was used to.

If I kissed her now?—

With the strain of a midday expedition in the heat of the desert, I turned away and handed her the glass of sparkling wine before taking up my own drink.

"May eternal darkness blanket this realm and extinguish the stars. May the sun be ashamed to rise in the presence of your radiance. May this night never end, so I can keep you in my arms forever." I clinked our glasses together and winked. "An old Xar'vathi proverb. Roughly translated."

Kerys huffed a breathy laugh, averting her eyes to the berries floating in her drink. "It's beautiful."

"Beautiful." I sighed and took a long sip of tart red wine. "Ever since you walked in, that word has been tormenting me. Downright mocking me."

She drank, too, giving me a questioning glance above the rim of her glass.

"You see, Ellaryth, I've been meaning to tell you how stunning you are. But no compliment in Elvish is good enough. Pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous." I scoffed. "They sound like insults."

My tail lashed, and I hid the nervous twitch in an elegant caress along her thigh.

"I-I would've been perfectly happy with any of those descriptions," she responded, fidgeting with the neck strap of her gown.

I hummed, tapping my chin. My tail flicked again as Kerys stared at me expectantly, and I could barely stand to look at her, quickly diverting my attention to the alcohol.

"Pul'xher dyvaz ar'gum lazryma," I said after a brief pause. "Much better."

Her dazzling smile blinded me. "Your voice is different in your native language," she said.

I quirked a brow. "How so?"

She bit her lip, shoulders rounding. "That came out horribly wrong— again . I apologize— again . I meant no offense."

My heart constricted at the sight of her embarrassment. Whoever had forbidden her from speaking her mind deserved to meet their end, courtesy of the vines twisting beneath my palms. For Kerys, they grew flowers, but for anyone who disrespected or hurt her, they had nothing but poison thorns.

"Ke—" I faked a cough, stopping myself from calling her by her true name. "I want to know. Tell me. I won't be insulted."

She took a quick sip of wine. "Your tone is very sultry in Elvish. I like it a lot, but it lacks the dark passion and urgent emphasis of your native tongue."

A whisper of heat flashed along my face. She'd given me the same compliment a lifetime ago—right before a request for me to talk dirty to her in Xar'vathi the next time we fucked.

I rubbed a hand along my jaw, grinning. "Thank you."

Electric silence hung between us, ready to ignite with a single spark.

"If I'm honest, I've always had an interest in learning Xar'vathi. Properly, not using a spell to translate," she said, eyes drifting. "But I'm not very good with languages, and I couldn't even find anyone able and willing to teach me. Not that I could afford the lessons anyway." She let out a nervous laugh. "Would you tell me what those words meant? What was the phrase again?"

"Pul'xher dyvaz ar'gum lazryma," I said, and her lips moved with soundless syllables, repeating them to herself. "Much is lost in translation. But the closest would be: your beauty makes the Gods weep tears of silver . Does that sound stupid in Elvish? And fuck, I don't even believe in the Gods."

"No, it's wonderful! Now I won't ever be content with someone merely calling me beautiful again." She blushed a deep shade of pink as she giggled, shaking her head, hair flying. One pesky strand clung to her long lashes and my hand jerked, wanting to reach out and brush it behind her ear, but she smoothed it over before I could.

She studied my expression, pouting. "It's curious, though. I've never heard of a Xar'vathi whose faith wasn't one of the most important aspects of their life. I don't mean to imply anything, of course. Religion isn't as important these days here in Zeridia, and I admit I don't believe in the Creators. The world is too cruel for that."

"Exactly my fucking point!" I exclaimed. "If they exist, why would they permit so much pain and misery? So much death?" I chugged the rest of my wine before setting the glass aside on the table. "When you lose everything, you quickly learn that prayers won't save you or bring back the ones you love."

I wanted to say more, drop the pretense and grab her by the shoulders. Shake her.

Don't you remember, Kerys? Don't you remember the first time we locked eyes across the mining pit? Don't you remember that it was you who freed me?

She gave a mirthless smile, sighing. "I didn't mean to stir up bad memories. Bet you already regret picking me for tonight, hmm? I'm being all doom and gloom, nosy about the worst topics. Madam Iletha always tells me to stay away from religion and politics during a first meeting, but I have the bad habit of blurting out exactly what I think, even if I try not to."

"You're wonderful company, Ella, and I enjoy when you speak your mind. With me, you may always be honest. But there's one thing I've been wondering …" I narrowed my gaze in playful suspicion. "You didn't seem the least bit surprised to see a Xar'vathi on this side of the Dreamless Sea. Have you met one of my kind before?"

Her posture loosened as she nodded. "We had a Xar'vathi man at the brothel for a few months. He was pretty reclusive, but his services were in high demand. Once he had saved up, he immediately bought passage on a ship back to Xar'vath. He said he regretted ever leaving home."

"Sounds about right for most of my kin." My lips pressed into a line, brows high. "Those who venture across the ocean often return within a few years. It's hard for a traditional Xar'vathi to fit in with the societies of this continent. No call to communal prayer in the morning and at night, no sites of worship. Not to mention that the size of our pantheon is confusing to outsiders—even to some of our own people.

"That makes accommodating our beliefs difficult. Elves and Humans, your values are very different from ours, too. Not worse or better in my opinion, just different. Personally, I've always enjoyed traveling, exploring other cultures. And if I hadn't come to Zeridia to sell my wares, I would have never met yo?—"

The music stopped. As the curtains fell, the crowd broke into roaring applause. Emily walked onto the stage, spreading her arms.

"Now for tonight's special guest! The rising star of the desert, come all the way here to please your ears with her dulcet voice," she shouted over the clapping. "The Nightingale!"

Whistles and shouts rose even louder, and Emily hopped off the stage just in time for the curtains to part once more.

"Nyxis! Nyxis!" the guests hollered. "Nyxis!"

A slender, short Xar'vathi with an alabaster complexion emerged, tail swaying with each seductive step. Ram-like horns curled from long raven hair, red eyes shining bright as she smiled at the crowd. Her gown's neckline plunged in a ripple of black silk down to her bellybutton, a high slit exposing her thigh almost to the hip.

Nyxis hadn't changed since we met for the first—and last time—years ago, at court in Xar'vath under the watchful eyes of her father. She was still gorgeous. Charismatic. But just like back then, and even now with my emotions returned, she couldn't stir my heart.

Only one woman could move me, make my pulse race, and she was sitting right next to me on this sofa.

"Isn't this the bard who played in the capital for the summer solstice celebration?" Kerys asked. "The entire town was abuzz about her performance! News of it carried all the way here."

I inclined my head. "It's her."

The Nightingale silenced the masses with a swooping, yet undeniably elegant gesture. "Before we begin, I would like to extend my warmest well wishes to our generous host. Happy birthday, Skrain!"

"Happy birthday!" the crowd echoed, a sea of glasses raising in a synchronized toast.

"I hate to let you go, Ella, but it's just for one moment. The way everyone is staring, I think they expect an answer from me." I grinned and stood, giving a wave. "Thank you, Nyxis. You have my sincerest gratitude. It's my pleasure and honor to welcome you and my esteemed guests here tonight. Now let us hear you sing, Nightingale!"

Nyxis bowed and twirled, seeming almost weightless. On her signal, the musicians played again, a lute joining the ensemble, and her brilliant voice rose into a cheerful tune. As she sang of fountains of wine and drunk lovers spinning arm in arm, the guests began to dance.

I had to admit that the Nightingale lived up to her nickname. Even those who hadn't partaken before jumped to their feet.

I smirked down at Kerys, offering her my hand. "May I?"

"I was hoping you'd ask." She clicked her tongue as I led her down from the platform onto the dance floor. "I wasn't told that it's your special day! Another discourtesy to apologize for, ugh. Better late than never though … so, happy birthday!"

One hand loosely on her waist, the other entwined with hers in a relaxed dancing posture, we swayed.

"Thank you, Ella. I wouldn't expect you to know."

"How old are you today?"

I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. "Guess. But I'll give you a hint—I'm quite a bit older than you."

"Thirty-two?"

My brows shot up before I disguised my surprise with laughter. I was thirty-two when she died, and today, I was exactly one hundred thirty-two. Was it just a lucky guess, or had a part of her begun to remember?

"Close," I said and favored her with a wink before steering her into a fast pirouette. She giggled as I pulled her in close again, and we fell into a natural rhythm.

I forgot about the crowd around us, and it was just like when she was still mine. Like swaying beneath the stars, her laughter ringing out over the quiet dunes. She made a mistake here or there, stepping on my toes, but I didn't mind.

I would have danced with her until the sun burned out and the moon cracked, chipping into pale dust.