The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,111
whether they be the One, the Two, or the Three.”
“Careful,” she said. “You're a wounded man convalescing in a monastery populated by warrior monks who might think you just committed blasphemy against their god.”
“I'm not afraid.” He tapped his drink against hers. “I have you to protect me. A woman who can take down a pack of raiders by herself… these monks are no match for sha-Anhuset.”
Her lids lowered and one of her eyebrows slide upward as she leveled a disbelieving look on him. “You might be handsome but your flirtation skills need work.”
Serovek froze with his drink halfway to his mouth. He inhaled to point out what she'd just said, afraid he'd misheard her. She realized her slip before he could speak, and her yellow eyes narrowed to slits. Lavender flags of color painted her cheekbones and the claws on one hand tapped a warning staccato beat on the tray's wooden bottom. “Is it really worth it to you to say it, margrave?”
They stared each other down for several moments before Serovek sighed and cheerfully said “Yes, Anhuset. Yes, it is. I always knew you thought me handsome. About time you admitted it.”
Those slender white eyebrows crashed downward, and the tray made a screeching noise where she dragged her claws across the surface. “Do you always court death?” she asked, a growl underlying her question
He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Rarely, though some might consider courting you one and the same.”
“You aren't courting me,” she snapped, the blush riding her cheekbones now spreading across her face. He'd flustered her.
“So sayeth you,” he replied. “And only you.”
“You assume a great deal just because I kissed you on that hillside.”
“No, I simply hope for a great deal more.” That kiss had sustained him through the pain and given him the impetus to fight past it, fight hard, and do whatever it took to stay alive just for the opportunity of experiencing all of Anhuset's consuming affections.
A knock at the door interrupted them before they could argue further. At Serovek's bid to enter, a monk slipped inside and offered the Beladine military salute to Serovek and a bow to Anhuset. “I'm here to collect your supper plates and tell you if you feel well enough, you're welcome to bathe in the springs below ground. They have healing properties that work alongside our magic.” He glanced at Anhuset, gaze touching on her own contusions, cuts, and bruised skin. “You're welcome to do the same, sha-Anhuset.”
“A most excellent invitation,” Serovek said. “And one I accept.” He set his emptied tankard on the tray just as the monk swept it from his lap. Anhuset rose nimbly to her feet, more watchful than annoyed now. She looked for any weakness in his demeanor that might belie his assurances of strength.
“Join me,” he said. “I'll prove to you I'm more than capable of taking a walk to a pool.” When she hesitated, he slyly suggested, “It will be your chance to drown me with no one the wiser.” A rattle of dishes sounded at the table as the monk cleared them away.”
Anhuset's lips twitched. “Well, when you put it like that, I'd be a fool to refuse.”
Soon, they followed a novice monk through quiet corridors, descending empty stairwells until they were indeed below ground where the monastery kept its root cellars and buttery. Bundled in borrowed woolens and heavy cloaks, they passed another group of chambers, their doors shut, before entering a short hall surrounded entirely by mortared stone with an archway at the end. On the other side, the space opened up to a cavern carved out by nature and time instead of the hand of man. Two small, interlocking pools bubbled quietly, a light veil of steam floating over both.
“It isn't drinkable,” their guide said. He set down the drying cloths he carried on a flat expanse of rock far enough from the pool to keep dry in case of splashing. “The minerals give the water a strange taste, but it's good for healing shallow wounds and easing the ache of bruises.”
“And it's warm,” Anhuset said in an almost reverent voice.
The novice nodded. “Stay as long as you wish. I believe your comrade Erostis will be here later to soak his own injuries, so you'll have company.”
As much as Serovek liked and admired Erostis, he didn't greet that news with any enthusiasm.
Once the novice left, Anhuset wasted no time in shedding her borrowed garb and treating Serovek to a breathtaking view