Page 46 of Fated or Knot

“Relax,” I whispered.

He took a few deep breaths, his rigid posture sinking back into the couch. I eased a little closer while his fingertips sank to my wing. Those same calluses felt amazing against the sensitive membrane. My purr was less forced, deepening to a steadier rhythm.

Marius was still figuring it out when Laurel walked in, saw me in his lap, and made an ugly face of jealousy. Fal popped his head through the threshold before she could leave again, grinning when he spotted where I was. “I promised the lady a game after she gave us so much privacy. No, don’t move, Lark. It’s a team game, and Marius is actually good at this one.”

The kelpie scowled, muttering, “He’s suchan asshole.”

The next morning, I leaned companionably against Marius’s side as I worked on a writing lesson from the Serian primer. He still hadn’t pushed me away, so that had to amount to some progress between us. It seemed he couldn’t avoid correcting me, though, stealing the pencil from my hand a few times to modify mistakes and apply accent marks in their proper places. He slid the journal back and forth, writing with his left hand while I leaned against his other arm.

He was mid-explanation when Laurel pulled out her first “Hey, Marius” of the day. I felt his soft growl as he looked up at her.

“Yes?” he asked.

Laurel was freshly awake on the end of the other couch, looking bored. Tormund had taken to pretending he didn’tunderstand Theli much at all to keep their conversations shallow. He had on a tiny pair of reading spectacles to keep from squinting at a book of poetry he was trying to read.

“How did you get that scar on your face?” she asked.

“Training accident,” he answered shortly, going back to the sheet and the explanation he’d been giving.

A few moments passed before Laurel said, “Like, what kind of training accident?”

This time, his growl wasn’t quite as masked. “That is not your business.”

Her full lips framed a pout. “I was just curious.”

He ignored her and gave me back the pencil to continue practicing. I sipped from a mug of tea to wake myself up more and filled the rest of the page with Serian in my unsteady script.

“Good job,” Marius said in Serian.

“Thank you. I’m working hard,” I said in kind.

At least, that’s what I wanted to say. By the way he chuckled, it may have gone awry. “Cute accent,” he remarked, switching to Theli.

“You too.” Though all four of the princes sounded more attractive rather than cute with theirs, in my opinion.

I turned the page to see another writing exercise and sighed, getting back to it. He had the pencil again and was correcting my work ten minutes later when Laurel said, “Hey, Marius.”

He snorted. “I’m busy.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Leave me be.”

“Won’t you tell me the story about your scar?”

There was a brittlesnapas his fingers clenched on the pencil. “It’s a private matter. Stop asking about it,” he ordered. “In fact, why don’t you go to the other room? Talk to your mother or Fal. He enjoys speaking endlessly yet saying little.”

I winced. Clearly, he hadn’t forgiven Fal yet for yesterday’s encounter.

“Fine. So rude,” she muttered, getting up and leaving with stomping footfalls.

“That girl, she likes you,” Tormund said.

The kelpie’s ear flicked in annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Maybe not anymore. She called him rude,” I said. That was usually the prelude to her running to Cymora to make the situation right.Again. Now my stepmother will undoubtedly hear about both Fal and Marius.

“She is too,” the giant said, shrugging. “It’s not our fault she doesn’t want to learn with you. She didn’t bring a book or anything to entertain herself either.”

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