Page 41 of The Jester

And suddenly, I know it was not just the innkeeper I felt; it was Eldrion, too.

He trusts me, but he is afraid of me, and I have no idea what that means.

Although Briony clearly wants to talk to me about what happened, I ask her for some time alone, shut my door, strip off my clothes and my gloves, and lie down on the bed. The fire blazes in the grate. It is too hot in here – always too hot – and the heat is emphasised by the fact my body is trying to regulate itself after using the magic I so often keep guarded.

I stand up and throw open the window. Finally, there is a cool breeze outside, and I stand for a while, allowing it to calm my skin.

Vysoryn. Eldrion asked the innkeeper what he knew about Vysoryn.

I have never heard the word before, but whatever it means, it was important enough for him to take me out of the castle.

As my temperature descends back to something closer to normal, I take my robe from the back of the chair and slip it on. I examine the wound on my thigh. It healed perfectly just a day after Finn treated it, which – I have to admit – was disappointing because I had hoped he might come to check on its progress.

Perhaps Finn would know what Vysoryn means. He spoke to me in the old tongue when I met him at the centennial, and he is older than me – even if just by fifty or so years.

But what excuse can I find to see him again? Unless I get sick, it seems we are destined to simply stare at one another while he performs for the court.

I stride over to the fire, pick up the poker that sits beside the grate, and hold it in the flames. When I lift it out, I stare at its white-hot spike for a moment before snapping myself out of my madness and tossing it to the floor.

I should ask Briony. She would help if I asked her to. But somehow, it feels like my relationship with Finn – if it can be called a relationship – should be kept hidden.

Should be kept safe.

Just for me.

Thinking of him, trying to drag my mind away from Eldrion and what he wants from me and how I might use his trust to my advantage, I sit down in the armchair and close my eyes. I drift back to the waterfall. I see his blood-red mask, and feel his fingers tracing gently up my thighs.

Slowly, I run my hand down my neck, then open my robe. I moisten my fingers and then move them to my nipple and sigh as I pinch lightly.

My other hand is moving across my stomach when there is a tap-tap-tap on the door that jerks me back into the room.

“Briony, I asked to be alone.” I stand, pulling my gloves roughly back onto my hands, and stride over to the door, annoyance stiffening in my limbs.

But when I open the door, it is not Briony on the other side – it is the jester.

Without speaking, he gestures for me to let him in, and I usher him silently inside. When the door closes, he stares into my eyes, grabs my waist, and kisses me. It is a deep, searching kiss, our mouths colliding as though they have been waiting for this moment for years instead of days.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I breathe as I pull back and stroke the side of his mask.

“You weren’t there tonight. I was worried. Briony said Eldrion took you somewhere.”

I don’t need to be an empath to see the worry in his dark brown eyes. I brush my thumb over his lips, then let him kiss my knuckles. “He did, but I’m all right.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it.” Finn is stroking my arm. “But you can if you want to.”

I shake my head, and reach up on tiptoes to kiss him again. “Not now.” I take his hand and lead it to the opening of my robe. “For now, I need not to think, or talk. I just want to feel.”

Finn’s lips curl into a delicious smile. It sends lightning rods of pleasure down my spine to settle in my core and, not for the first time, I wonder how he’s capable of doing that with only a look. Just a look.

“Do you think you can entertain me, jester?” I ask playfully, combing my fingers through his dishevelled hair.

Almost purring in response, Finn grabs my waist and tugs me into his chest. With his lips close to my ear, he whispers, “You’re in luck, si’thari – entertainment is my specialty.”

Chapter Eighteen

FINN

In the darkness of her chambers, I drop to the ground and slide my hands up her legs. Her skin is like butter beneath my fingers.

---