Page 21 of The Curse Between Us

“I never said I was disappointed,” Zephyr replied softly, his voice dipping into something warmer, heavier. His eyes dropped once more to Edric’s bare chest, lingering this time, and Edric’s pulse stuttered.

The heat in Zephyr’s gaze was palpable, curling around Edric like a physical thing. His hand clenched on the silk coverings on the bed, fingers digging into the fabric as he fought back the urge to reach out — to trace the line of Zephyr’s cheekbone, to see if his skin was as soft as it looked.

But he could not.

He let out a shaky breath and got to his feet, feeling like a coward. “I ought to bathe,” he said abruptly, voice rough around the edges. “And then perhaps we can go in search of that breakfast you were denied.”

The wry quirk of Zephyr’s smile indicated that he knew exactly what Edric had been thinking. He inclined his head to the side, the motion impossibly graceful, and said nothing as Edric fled to the bathing room off to the side of their chambers.

Once out of sight, Edric tipped his head back against the door and groaned, dragging his hands down his face. What crimes had he and Zephyr committed to be punished this way? They liked one another well enough, despite the circumstances of their marriage, and the attraction between them wasundeniable. They might have acted on that attraction to their mutual enjoyment, if not for whatever curse prevented them from being able to touch.

Truly, it was so absurd as to be almost comical. And yet Edric was not laughing. Grumbling to himself, he stepped into the bath, the cool water a relief on his heated flesh. He sank down until only his head remained above the surface, closing his eyes as the water muffled the world around him. He could still feel the ghost of Zephyr’s gaze on him, and he doubted even a thousand baths could wash it away.

???

Reassured though he was by Zephyr’s teasing comments about pining for him in his absence, Edric still felt somewhat guilty for abandoning him on their first morning as a wedded couple. So rather than joining the other members of the court at the morning meal in the hall, he had their breakfast sent to their chambers.

One of the castle attendants arrived with trays of food and drink just as Edric finished dressing himself for the day. “Thank you, Alissa,” he said as she arranged the plates and bowls on the table. “This looks wonderful.”

“Yes, thank you.” Zephyr rose from his place on the bed, where he had apparently remained the entire time Edric was bathing and dressing, and joined them at the table. “Alissa, is it?”

She looked rather startled to be addressed so directly, but managed a proper curtsey and a small nod. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“That will be all.” Edric gave her a soft smile, which she returned shakily before fleeing the room.

“I do believe you’ve intimidated her,” he said, turning back to face Zephyr.

“Me?” Zephyr arched one eyebrow, looking perfectly innocent, his hair tidily swept back from his face and one hand poised to pour himself a glass of juice. “I did nothing but ask her name.”

“And she will tell the tale for weeks, I’m sure.” Edric took his seat and reached for the bowl of berries in the centre of the table. “How she was the one to bring breakfast to the new kings of Rafria and Eskarven.”

“I am not king yet.” Though there was no rebuke in Zephyr’s tone, there was something else, something it took Edric a moment to identify. A certain wistfulness, longing mixed with regret. Edric wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and grip Zephyr’s hand in sympathy, but they had left their gloves off to make it easier to eat. Such a gesture would not have the effect he intended it to.

“Soon,” he said instead.

The corner of Zephyr’s mouth lifted. “Soon,” he echoed softly. He reached out and selected an orange from the basket, his long fingers delicately peeling the skin from the flesh. Edric had never thought of peeling an orange as a sensuous act, but watching Zephyr do so, desire hit him like a bolt of lightning, thrilling and terrifying all at once. He swallowed roughly, the sharp sweet scent of the orange filling the air, and fought to regain control of himself and the situation.

“But until then,” he said, “we have my people to occupy ourselves with.”

Zephyr nodded, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having on Edric. “There is a council meeting this afternoon, yes?”

“Yes.” Edric nodded and re-applied himself to the task of eating. Anything to have an excuse to drop his gaze fromZephyr’s clever hands. “There is little anyone can do at this point to stop the treaty, but I am certain they will have many opinions to share on it regardless.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Zephyr popped a section of orange into his mouth and chewed it slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. “How do you think they would respond to the suggestion that we invite a delegation from my kingdom to join us here?”

Edric blinked at him, took a sip of juice, then blinked again. “With as much surprise as I am currently feeling,” he said.

Zephyr laughed, leaning forward across the table. “Think about it. I am alone here, and while I understand the practicalities of my remaining here for some time before returning home, I will continue to be gawked at and whispered about just as I was by our young attendant. Your people still see me as an Eskarven first, and the next association they make is that I am the enemy. I cannot fault them for that, but if we want to change those associations, it will take more than just becoming accustomed to seeing me at your side.”

Edric folded his hands on the table and raised one eyebrow at Zephyr. “Is this what you’ve been thinking of all morning?”

“Yes,” Zephyr replied, his expression slightly smug. “I told you I was not pining.”

Of course he wasn’t. Zephyr was raised to lead, just as Edric was. It was easy to think of him as needing coddling, adrift as he might occasionally feel in this strange land, but he was intelligent and capable and just as invested in seeing this alliance blossom as Edric was. Perhaps even more so—the faster it stabilized, the faster he could return to his own kingdom.

Edric fought back the unexpected pain that rose in his chest at that thought and nodded slowly. “It is an excellent idea,” he said. “With free travel across the mountains, there is so muchwe can accomplish. Trade, for example.” He nodded at the neat pile of orange peel in front of Zephyr. “I am guessing you don’t have a great deal of fresh fruit available in Eskarven.”

“We do not.” Zephyr shrugged and reached for another orange. “And on a more personal note, I believe it would reassure my people if they could see for themselves that I am well and not being mistreated in any way. I would not ask Pierce to leave, but perhaps another of my numerous cousins.”

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