head to watch as he marches over and opens the door.
Tor strides in, ignoring Naril and walking straight past him. “Is everything okay?” he immediately queries, looking around the room for me and frowning when he sees me curled up in a snarling elf’s arms. “I felt your pain through the bond.”
Vaeril doesn’t loosen his hold on me, but he flinches when Tor mentions the bond. He does, however, surprise me when he stops snarling and dips his head towards Tor. “Tribesman,” he says in greeting, his voice still guttural. Tor places his hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow as a shadow of a smile plays at the corner of his lips.
“I fell, I’m fine, really,” I reassure him, but my excuse is countered by the fact I’m being cradled by an elf, and I really don’t have the energy to explain how this all happened.
Tilting his head to the side, he watches the two of us before chuckling low in his chest. “Well, well…I would’ve gotten here sooner if I knew we were having a cuddle party.” A surprised laugh bubbles up in my chest, and he grins at me in response. Vaeril snarls, but it’s half-hearted now that I’m settled in his arms and not trying to pull away.
Tor’s smile drops as he takes a few steps towards us, stopping a couple of paces away so as not to upset Vaeril. “You’re really okay?” I can tell he wants to reach out, but his eyes flick to Vaeril and he thinks better of it.
“Yes, I am, I promise,” I reply with a smile, hoping to reassure him. My head still hurts, but I’m pretty sure the bleeding has stopped. “Will I see you later?” I inquire hopefully, hating that he’s being kept so busy. The short amount of time we spent together at the ball wasn’t enough, but I get the feeling stolen moments are all we’re going to get for the foreseeable future.
His wince confirms my suspicions as he takes a deep breath. “I hope so. The queen is running me ragged at the moment,” he explains wearily, and I take a proper look at him. He does look exhausted, and being an ambassador can’t be easy. “She wasn’t pleased that I dashed out of her meeting just now.” He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish expression.
Mother above. The queen’s going to love that when she finds out why he left her meeting, I think to myself, shaking my head as I imagine her reaction.
Apparently, I’m not the only one, because Naril snorts. “Oh wonderful, will we have the queen joining us in here too?” Sarcasm coats his words, but Tor gives me a rueful smile and half shrug.
“If I don’t get back, then probably,” the tribesman replies, his voice apologetic. Slowly closing the gap between us, he leans towards me and brushes his nose against mine. “Bye, Clarissa.”
“Bye, Tor.” My response is quiet, but I know he heard it since he smiles before hurrying out the door, shutting it behind him.
I’m surprised that Vaeril didn’t react to Tor being so close or make any comment about his slip with mentioning our connection, but I realise now that he’s completely still, like he’s holding his breath. Now that the tribesman has gone, he relaxes, his hold on me loosens, and he resumes his nuzzling into my hair, the steady purring starting up again in his chest.
Naril walks back over to the table and pulls out a chair, flopping into it and resting his head in his hands as if he’s exhausted. “Well, that was an entertaining lunch.”
After the drama of my hectic lunch, the quiet hush of the library is immensely welcoming. I’d known when I first walked in here that I’d like it, the peaceful atmosphere and the smell of old books making it feel like a safe haven. The three huge arched windows set into the back of the building make the space feel bright and airy, while there are still plenty of small reading spaces so it feels comfy.
Naril, my companion for the afternoon, just looks bored as he strides past the book-lined walls, seemingly oblivious to the beauty of the room. Whether that’s because books don’t interest him, or if his long lifetime has taken away the novelty, I don’t know.
A quick trip to the medical room was our first stop after lunch. They cleaned my wound, and I received a couple of stitches—something Vaeril had insisted on. Before