Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
But yet again, Cass found nothing amusing.
Therefore, he pivoted, and the many bodies moved out of his way as he strode to the other end of the tent, out of it, and to his mount in order to swing astride and ride back to the palace and an entire bottle of fucking whiskey he could pour his gods-damned self.
18
The Thaw
King Aramus Nereus
Guest Suite, Second Floor, East Corridor, Catrame Palace, Fire City
FIRENZE
Aramus had not missed that, not long after the thaw that had started on their final approach to Fire City, the freeze in his marriage had swept up again.
Precisely at the time the servant boy had first shown him and Ha-Lah to their rooms at Catrame Palace, Aramus had left them almost immediately to meet with Cassius, and in doing so, he’d left Ha-Lah behind with orders not to leave that room.
He’d also left Nissi and Oreti guarding the doors to make certain that was so.
This was where she remained, unless there were official functions to attend.
And right then, the instant he guided his wife into their rooms after the reception, he saw that the guise of an allied front of husband and wife she’d put up for the procession, parade and reception was instantly dropped.
The freeze was back on.
He could even fancy he felt the chill.
“Ha-Lah—” he started on a sigh.
“I prepare for bed,” she said coldly, moving toward their bathing chamber off which there were two dressing chambers.
One for him.
One for her.
He had now shared quarters with his wife for weeks, and outside seeing her in her sleeping garments, which were (in the current climate) frustratingly brief, he hadn’t seen any more of what made his wife.
“I think it’s time we talk,” he said to her back.
She turned casually toward him, and when he had her front, he saw her brows were lifted.
“You do?” she asked.
“Obviously, I do,” he asserted, attempting to keep hold on his temper at her manner. “You’ve said perhaps ten words to me since we arrived at the palace.”
“Yes. I believe they were, ‘Please, allow me to leave these rooms or I’ll go mad.’”
That was eleven words, but he wasn’t going to note that.
“There are reasons, and I told you those reasons.”
“Ah yes,” she nodded once, “how incredibly unsafe I am in a land where we were met with flower petals and scatterings of coins. I understand the force of your concerns, my king. For if I left these rooms, I might be murdered by adulation.”
He really did not like to note his wife could be clever and amusing when she was also being aggravating.
“Ha-Lah—” he bit.
But he stopped himself from speaking when she uncharacteristically lost her temper, leaned toward him and spat, “Spare me.”
On that, she turned on her foot and fumed toward their bathing room.
Aramus drew a long breath into his nose.
Another.
Then he gazed about the room, with its large, posted bed on a podium, the posts draped in purple and red sheer silks. There were large rugs of bear hides on the floor on either side of the bed, these swathing down the steps to the podium. There were also chests and ornate lamps and gilded, tufted stools. A door to the left, behind which was where Ha-Lah’s lady’s maid slept.
And an opening with no doorway to the right, so you could see the rectangular, recessed bath tiled in blacks and purples with dense cushions on the sides. A bath that was always filled with clear waters that seemed magically heated to the perfect temperature.
His gaze swung from the bath, which he had used without his wife, to the bed, which he had used with his wife but not in all the ways he would wish.
He then walked to the door to the hall, flung it open, scowled at Xi and Cat, who stood at each side guarding it. He looked down the hall to the boy servant who was one of two always available should a guest in the east wing have some need.
“Rum,” he ordered. “Adesso.”
Now.
The boy dashed down the hall toward the stairs.
Both Xi and Cat were avoiding his eyes and obviously fighting smiles when he ducked back into his chamber and slammed the door.
Storming to it, he threw himself on a divan in the corner, falling sideways toward the roll at the top, and setting his eyes to the bathing chamber.
It didn’t take long before Ha-Lah wandered out in a satin shift the color of aqua that fell just below her arse, had thin straps, and that was it.
She had lovely legs.
He clenched his teeth.
His wife walked right in front of him, straight to bed.
There was a knock on the door and, bent over the bed to throw the silks back, she glanced that way as if she had the most minimal of curiosity for what was behind it as Aramus shouted, “Enter!”