Page 67 of Vow of the Shadow King

“I’ve already kept you out longer than I should,” he says after what feels like an age. “Hael will be starting to worry.”

With those words, all the barriers between our hearts slam back into place. I’m too weak, too numb, too powerless to fight them. I want to scream with frustration. Instead, I simply nod.

Vor summons his morleth from its dark dimension. Soon, I find myself holding onto the saddle pommel once more, Vor’s arms wrapped around me. Rather than ride by the main road, Vor urges his beast into flight. It glides out from the top of Market Rise, its strange feet walking easily on air. This is the first time I’ve ridden like this, but the wonder of it all is lost on me. My heart lodges painfully in my throat, choking back a sob. Tears slip down my cheeks as we soar across this city I’ve only just begun to know. Over the little domed houses of the priestesses where the refugee children scamper and play. Over the highways and byways of the intricate trolde lives going on below.

Vor waves to the gate guards as we glide over the wall. I expect him to bring Knar down in the courtyard. Instead, he guides the beast up to a window many stories up. Seen from this angle, I don’t recognize it as my bedchamber window until Knar lands, setting his massive cloven feet with surprising delicacy on the balcony rail.

I blink, surprised. Why has Vor brought me this way back to my room? To avoid being seen? Is it possible he doesn’t want anyone to know he is with me here? Is it possible he might intend to . . . to . . .

My stomach flutters. A sudden strong rush oflast chancequickens in my blood. I pull in my bottom lip and bite.

Vor slips from the saddle, landing a little hard. He catches his balance then turns and holds up his hands to me. With Knar perched on the edge of the rail, the distance between us is greater than before. I look down into Vor’s eyes.

Then I reach out, wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me from the saddle. My head whirls, and I tighten my hold. Just a little. Just enough that he doesn’t immediately put me down. He stands there, holding me. Very like how we ended our dance, with my arms around his shoulders, his hands at my waist, my feet dangling. Only this time there’s no one watching. This time, there’s no reason for him not to kiss me if he wishes to.

But he doesn’t.

Before I can utter a word, he sets me down and withdraws his hands. I back up, cheeks hot, straightening my skirts and pushing stray hair from my face. My throat is tight, but I force out the first words that spring to my tongue. “I . . . I quite enjoyed my tour of your city, Vor.”

“Yes.” He looks off over my shoulder, avoiding my eyes. “I will . . . never forget our time together. Brief though it was.”

My stomach drops. This is his goodbye. This moment, right here on my balcony. He intends this to be our last. Perhaps we will glimpse one another again, but never in private. He might even avoid me entirely before he sends me back to my own world.

His gaze flicks to mine. His lips part, and I hear him draw a little breath. I’m not ready for whatever he’s about to say. I can’t bear it.

So, I blurt out the only thing I can think of: “Would you like to come inside? For . . . for a drink?”

He blinks. His brow puckers, one eyebrow quirked.

“You must be parched,” I ramble on hastily. “I know I am. I believe there is some refreshment inside. The maid, she often brings something in the mornings. I . . . I can see. If you like?” I’m not certain it’s possible to sound more foolish. I have nothing to serve him. And I think he knows it. Which means he can easily guess at my ulterior motives.

Before he has a chance to protest, I whirl in a flutter of pink skirts and hasten to the window. My hands shake as I push it open, and butterflies careen wildly in my chest as I part the curtains and step through into the room. Part of me fears Vor will take the opportunity to mount his morleth and depart without a word while my back is turned. But he is a gentleman; surely he wouldn’t do anything so rude.

I hasten to the center of the room, cast about for something, anything I might offer him. There’s nothing but a silver ewer of water and two small cups on the table near the door. I hasten over to it, every sense in my body aware when Vor steps through the open window. His presence seems to fill the space behind me. My hands simply won’t stop trembling. It takes all my concentration to lift the ewer and pour a trickle of water into each cup. Then, closing my eyes, I breathe a silent prayer before I turn to face him.

He stands in the middle of the room. How strangely awkward and uneasy he looks, especially for such a powerful, graceful man. He meets my eye only for an instant before looking away. “Here,” I say, a little too brightly, and step forward with the cup. “It’s not very cold I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind.” He accepts my offering and stares down into it. As though it’s a scrying pool and he seeks to discern the future. “What should we drink to?” he asks at last.

This moment reminds me rather too vividly of our wedding night. Does he remember too? I shiver, turn the cup around in my hands. “How about to new experiences?”

His mouth tips in a small smile that sends warmth spreading right down to my toes. “I’ll drink to that.” He touches the lip of his cup against mine before downing the contents. I take a more tentative sip, moistening my lips. Then we stand there. Mute. Vor stares into his empty cup, but I know he’s as aware of me as I am of him. Aware of me, of this private space. Of the narrow bed up against the wall.

“I should go.” Vor turns, sets the cup down on the nearest available surface. He’s already taken two strides for the window before I have a chance to react.

With a little gulping cry, I lunge after him, take hold of his arm. “No, please! Stay.” Do I sound desperate? I can’t help it. I am desperate. Desperate that this will be the last time I see him, that once he walks back out onto that balcony, I will never again share his atmosphere. “I . . . Hael isn’t back yet,” I add lamely. “I would appreciate the company.”

His gaze fixes on my fingers, gripping his bare forearm. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to mine, then glances to the window, like it’s his escape. Hastily, I let go and step back, move to one of the chairs pulled up near the hearth. I take a seat, like the proper gracious hostess my mother raised me to be, and sweep a hand to indicate the other chair. After a short, awkward stillness, Vor complies. He perches stiffly on the edge of his chair.

Great gods spare me, what am I supposed to do now? I know what I want but . . . but I can’t very well launch myself across this space between us and kiss him. Can I? No, surely not.

“I enjoyed my outing today,” I say lamely after the silence has lasted far too long.

“Yes. You said that.” Vor’s lip twitches as he studies the back of his own hand.

“Oh. Of course.”

We’re silent again. I’m almost certain I hear Hael’s returning footsteps on the stairwell, marching down the passage to this room. I don’t have much time. I can’t afford to hesitate. And yet I sit frozen, afraid to act.

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