I drew in a soft breath.
“I think I might like your ideas,” I told him.
“I know you will,” he told me.
“Sure of yourself?” I teased, his thumb slid across my nipple, my back arched and I drew in a breath that was not at all soft.
“Yes,” he answered, his eyes smiling but still lit with that lazy, sexy light.
One of my hands slid up the sleek skin of his back and into his hair. “You could tell me what it’s like in the elves’ realm,” I suggested.
“Later,” he whispered, his lips still close, his thumb now circling my nipple.
I bit my lip as the sensations curled through me and I waited, breathlessly, for his mouth to take mine.
When I didn’t get it, I prompted on a whisper, “Seriously, baby, are you going to kiss me, or what?”
My husband made me wait half a second while, super close, he looked deep in my eyes.
Then, just like Frey, he gave me what I wanted.
He kissed me.
* * * * *
Incidentally, I slept soundly that night and, except on a rare occasion, every night after.
* * * * *
One month later…
In the Queen’s Study, Rimée Keep, Snowdon.
I stood silently at the window in my mother’s study, my body facing it but my head was turned so I could see the people at the desk.
Frey, Calder, Apollo, Olwen, Norfolk and Walter were standing at one side, the heads of three once Lunwynian, then Middlelandian, again Lunwynian Houses stood at the other side. All three had not participated in the rebellion and, for their refusal to support that campaign, they had all been imprisoned throughout the short war by Broderick then the other heads.
Now, they were not.
Mother stood behind the desk, bent over it, signing a huge, poster board-sized piece of parchment.
Baldur stood next to her watching her with a stony face.
She straightened and offered her silver pen to him.
His lip curled as he looked at the pen.
“Do not delay, Baldur,” Apollo said low. “Your carriage awaits and the rest of us have things to do.”
Baldur glared at Apollo then he looked to Mother.
“It is my understanding, my son showed kindness to your daughter before she slaughtered him,” he noted coldly.
Mother didn’t show any reaction to this pointless comment which was a miracle considering all the other things that were not kind that Broderick did, including ordering her (and my) husband to be murdered and she stated blandly, “And it is my understanding she actually didn’t slaughter him, she delivered a wound that was not lethal but, instead, it was one of the men of The Drakkar, acting correctly on what he felt would be his absent commander’s wishes, who ran your son through.” She paused then finished, not even trying to hide her pride, “But she did, of course, take the life of his lover.”
Baldur’s mouth got tight and his eyes slid through the heads on either side, avoiding mine as they went and then he whispered, “This is preposterous. This woman does not even have the blood of a Wilde and she’s a woman for the gods’ sakes.”
“Your options have been explained, Baldur,” Frey reminded him quietly. “You made your choice. With this delay, are you saying you’re undecided?” Baldur’s eyes went to Frey and Frey concluded, “For if you are, I will be happy to make the choice for you.”