The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,56

no one would hear us, maybe trying to make amends knowing I had been turned away from there earlier. He had dismissed the guards in our section of the wall, saying we would keep watch. They had raised their eyebrows. The king keeping watch? But it was as natural for Rafe as his arm was on my shoulder now. Our legs dangled over the wall’s edge. How far we had come. Now he joined me on precarious ledges.

He hadn’t denied it or tried to justify it, but he had promised the alliance wasn’t only about the port, and by the time he was done speaking, I believed him. It was about a lot of things, not the least of which was foolish pride and the need to reclaim a part of their history and what had once belonged to the exiled prince. But there was a practical side to their motivations as well. Dalbreck too had heard the reports of the growing Vendan population, and they’d had more incidents with barbarian patrols. Maintaining the Dalbreck army was the largest expense of the treasury. Of all the kingdoms, Morrighan had the next largest army. It was true that Dalbreck viewed their forces as superior to Morrighan’s, but they also knew they could use resources elsewhere if they didn’t have to maintain such a large military. An alliance could mean cutting back on their western outposts, and the profits from a deep-water port on the western coast would help finance the rest. After I was within their borders, they would press for the return of the port, claiming it as a dowry.

Press. Another innocuous word like leverage. I didn’t even want to unravel all its nuances.

“So after they secured a political alliance, they set their sights on more, and I’d be the winning game piece clutched in their palms.”

He stared out at the darkening horizon. “I wouldn’t have let it happen, Lia.”

“You’re a king now, Rafe,” I said, and jumped down from our perch onto the walk. “Will you devise new ways to get it?”

He followed after me and pressed his palms against the watchtower wall, pinning me between his arms. A scowl darkened his eyes. “It doesn’t matter who or what I am or what the cabinet wants. You are what matters to me, Lia. If you don’t know that already, I’ll find a hundred more ways to show you. I love you more than a port, more than an alliance, more than my own life. Your interests are my interests. Are we going to let the conspiracies and schemes of kingdoms come between us?”

His dark lashes cut a shadow under his eyes. His gaze searched mine, and then the turmoil receded and was replaced with something else—a need that had gone too long unquenched. It matched my own, and I felt its heat spreading low in my gut. It was only Rafe and me. Kingdoms disappeared. Duties disappeared. Only the two of us and everything we had ever been to each other—and everything I still wanted us to be.

“No kingdom will come between us,” I whispered. “Ever.” Our lips drew closer, and I leaned in to him, wanting every part of him to be part of me too, our mouths meeting, his embrace gentle and then passionate, wanting more. His lips traced a line down my neck and then nudged my dress from my shoulder. My breaths shuddered and my hands slipped beneath his vest, my fingertips burning as they slid over the muscles of his stomach. “We’re supposed to be keeping watch,” I said breathlessly.

He quickly signaled a sentry below to resume his patrol of the wall and turned his attention back to me. “Let’s go to my tent,” he whispered between kisses.

I swallowed, trying to form a coherent answer. “You aren’t worried about your reputation?”

“I’m more worried about my sanity. No one will see us.”

“Do you have anything with you here?” I didn’t want to end up in Pauline’s predicament.

“Yes.”

His tent was only steps away, but still almost as far as a lifetime when I knew how quickly the fates could turn on a moment and rip it away.

“We’re here now, Rafe, and the watchtower is warm. Who needs a tent?”

* * *

The world vanished. We closed the door. Pulled the shutter tight. Lit a candle. Threw a woolen blanket to the floor.

My fingers trembled and he kissed them, concern filling his eyes. “We don’t have to—”

“I’m only afraid this isn’t real. That it’s only another one of