Aurora held his eyes.
Then she observed quietly, “She must have loved them very much.”
“No,” Drakkar stated. “In the last days as I told her of you, any mention, even in passing, of your names, her eyes would light, her cheeks would pink with excitement, her attention, always avid, would grow intense. She did not love her parents very much, my queen. They were her world. And she journeyed from that world to have them back. That is something beyond love but I don’t know what it is. What I do know is that they must have been remarkable to deserve that devotion.”
Aurora held his eyes and as she did she gave him something she’d never given him nor had he ever seen her give anyone else, even her husband.
She visibly showed vulnerability.
Drakkar watched Queen Aurora pull her lips between her teeth as her eyes got bright with unshed tears. Then she released her lips and swallowed, blinking and the brightness in her eyes disappeared.
Then she said quietly, “I look forward to knowing your Finnie, Drakkar.”
“I can assure you, you do,” Drakkar replied quietly back, dipped his chin to her and to his king then he walked out of the room.
* * * * *
Bathed and dressed for dinner, Frey moved down the hall to the door of the rooms he would be sharing with his wife in order to have a brief moment with Finnie prior to escorting her to dinner.
He was pleasantly contemplating how he would spend that brief moment as he turned the knob and entered their rooms.
He got two steps in, caught sight of his wife and stopped dead.
Finnie was sitting in an armchair across the great space, her knees tight to her chest, a winter white blanket tucked around her and her cat Penelope was curled in a ball in the seat by her hip. Her head was bowed to a book, her white-blonde hair had been curled in a riot of waves and ringlets that fell down her back but was pulled up at the sides in jeweled clips. Her face was made up in a way that managed to succeed in what, until gazing on her, Frey would have thought was the impossible task of enhancing her already significant beauty and he could see her even more generous than normal display of cle**age coming forth from a gown of shimmering ice blue that was exceedingly becoming to her complexion and coloring. All of this was to such an extreme, he had to stop dead to give himself a chance to take it in.
Her head came up and her eyes slowly turned to him and when the fullness of their beauty hit him, Frey considered skipping dinner altogether. And as he considered this he decided that later, much later, they could have something sent up.
This idea fled his mind when she said softly, yet listlessly, “Hey. You’re back.”
Then she turned back to her book.
These actions made Frey stay frozen for an altogether different reason as he studied his wife and her demeanor and registered a tone she’d never used and one which by no means suited her.
Then he closed the door and walked into the room, saying, “Your parents would like us to meet them for a drink prior to us sitting down to dinner.”
Her head came up and she turned her eyes to him briefly, not indicating even a hint of excitement at this idea, before she looked away, nodded and then reached to grab a ribbon to put in her book. She did this, closed it, set it on the table beside the chair and then gently nudged Penelope, who gave a sleepy, disturbed “mew” before jumping to the floor.
Frey had come to a stop in front of her when she tossed the blanket aside and stood, her eyes averted, then she attempted to scoot out from in front of him to pass him.
His arm instantly moved to hook her at the waist and pull her in front of him, his other one moving around to hold her there.
Her head tipped back to look at him and he felt his gut tighten when he saw a blankness that fitted her mother of this world far more than his Finnie.
“Is something amiss, wee one?” he asked and she shook her head.
“Just tired and hungry,” she spoke her lie before again looking away and moving to break from his arms.
They tightened and her eyes went back to him.
“I asked what was amiss, Finnie,” he said softly.
“And I told you. I’m tired and hungry,” she lied again. “Can we go to dinner?”
“In a minute,” Frey stated, she pulled in breath and let it out, holding his gaze, waiting then he queried, “What’s the matter?”
Her body grew tight in his arms and her brows inched together with irritation.
“Frey, I told you. I’m tired and hungry.”