Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,236

and Selene read his mind. Her eyes were full of mischief as she added, “You should have seen his cheeks!”

They didn’t talk much, but sometime later, after a short nap and some more mischief Will thought perhaps they’d be getting up to start the day. Faint hints of dawn were sneaking in through gaps in the canvas, but when he started to rise, Selene held fast to him, burying her head against his chest.

He thought it was a joke at first, for she’d never really been the type to cling, but after he struggled for a moment, she still wouldn’t let go. “Just a little longer,” she begged, with her dark hair obscuring most of her features.

She sounded normal, but something in her tone touched his heart anyway. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Reaching up with one hand, he pushed the hair away and was immediately struck by the red-rimmed and swollen eyes. How she had managed to cry in complete silence without moving or alerting him was a complete mystery. His best guess was that being born royal and raised by a monster had instilled the skill in her. “What’s wrong?”

Blinking, Selene buried her face again. “Nothing now.”

Shifting his body and using both hands, he lifted her head so he could see her face. It was hideous, though it somehow made him love her even more. “Tell me.”

“I thought you were dead—again!” The words were barely intelligible, but the context made her meaning clear. “How many times is this going to happen?”

Lifting the corner of the blanket, Will used it as a towel to wipe away the mess. When he pulled it away, he replied, “I thought things turned out better than usual this time. It went pretty well until the end, and then I just had a little fall.”

“It wasn’t just a little fall,” she snapped. “You destroyed the whole city, and no one would or could go look for you. Even after the air began to clear they were too afraid! If I hadn’t ignored them all and escaped with your troll love-child, you would have died.”

He snorted despite himself. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Don’t try and change the topic. It wasn’t just a little fall. I was the one who found you, lying broken in the middle of a crater the size of a cathedral. Your head was resting on top of one of your feet like it was a pillow.” Her body shivered at the memory.

He almost snickered but managed to suppress it. The words were funny, but Selene’s voice told another tale, one of fear and tragedy. Instead, he kept his reply neutral. “Gan took you to find me?”

She nodded. “Him and the others.”

“I can’t believe you called him a love-child.”

“We don’t even have a child yet,” she complained. “I thought you were dead and then where would I be? All I would have to remember you by would be your ugly troll babies.”

Her emotions were raw, painful, and too much for him. Will chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” she warned. “I think you love Lrmeg more than me.”

“But I married you,” he answered in a calm rational tone. Then he paused. “Wait, did you say troll babies, plural? Lrmeg and the others aren’t mine.”

She growled. “It wasn’t easy to understand, but Lrmeg told me enough that I figured out how you hired your troll mercenaries.”

“Oh.”

“Slut.”

“That is not how it happened!” he protested loudly. “They cut little pieces off of themselves, and I used a knife to make the cuts.”

Somehow his distress over the explanation made her smile. “Excuses, excuses…”

Epilogue

The stars were impossibly bright, aided by the lack of a moon. The stately elms that grew near the main house created a beautiful lattice against the bejeweled black velvet of the sky. Will was standing on the second-floor balcony, leaning over a smooth, hand-carved rail while he studied the grounds of Selene’s secret paradise, the Rimberlin Estate, or as she usually called it, Rimberlin House.

The waterfall she had mentioned before was close enough that it could be faintly heard above the soft susurration of the trees in the wind. Sculpted topiaries near the house blended with the randomness of the orchard trees in the distance to create a delicate balance between manmade order and natural charm. After the last few months at war, it was the perfect balm for Will’s soul.

It had been almost a month since they’d returned, and two weeks since they’d vacated the capital to find peace and quiet in the country. He’d been a