Page 45 of This Midsummer Heart
Wakeful Titaine might insist she wants nothing to do with me, but asleep, it seems she wants nothing more than to completely possess me.
Now that the storms have passed, reddish morning light slips through the curtains at my back, lighting up her hair so that it shows gold. All of her is glowing softly with the energy of the morning sun. Titaine is still a creature of magic even as it abandons the rest of the world.
My breath catches in my throat. One glimpse of gold-limned hair, and the memories of a hundred such mornings tear through my mind. Mornings when we’d been happy, before everything went so very wrong between us—before Titaine shut me out. Mornings when I draped my arm over her without a thought, holding her just a little closer before reluctantly rising to meet the day.
These are memories from another lifetime, when waking beside this fae woman filled me with a sense of home I have not felt since.
It hurts—actually, physically hurts—to remember that feeling. It’s as though it’s being ripped from me anew.
Stifling a groan, I realize I’m nearly as soaked and sticky as when I went to sleep. Quickly but carefully, I extricate myself from the bedding, trying not to wake Titaine. She stirs, then falls back into quiet, even breathing.
I take this opportunity to wash up using the pitcher and basin the innkeeper’s wife brought us. The water is murky, but with how stuffy and hot this upper room is, I almost welcome it.
In silence, I remove my sleeveless jerkin and begin to wash with a cloth, still damp and not a little dirty from using it to clean my clothes last night. It will do. Everything now will have to do.
I am no longer a Houselord, and in this land, I am barely even a king.
As I drag the cloth down the side of my neck, starting in on my chest, I have the distinct feeling I’m being watched. I don’t know whether to be self-conscious, or pleased.
It’s heady enough, knowing Titaine doesn’t even hate me. But to think that she still wants me—that she still finds me attractive, if not desirable?
Actually, I’m not sure what I’d do with that information.
I glance at Titaine, but of course she has her eyes closed again, pretending as though she wasn’t watching me. I can tell she isn’t asleep.
“Just say the word, Titaine,” I say, forcing a mischievous smirk onto the side of my face she can see. I try to hide the slight, nervous tremble in my limbs as I continue to wash.
“What?” She tries to sound muzzy, as if I’ve just woken her, but I know. I no longer have to pretend to wear a cavalier grin.
Oh, yes. Titaine is still attracted to me after all. Even after everything. Even after spending days with me on end.
I could float the rest of the way to Nox.
“Say the word, and I’ll hop back into that bed with you. We could use it properly. We’re husband and wife, even if it is only by elven law. No one would bat an eye. Or,” I add, my voice lowering, “I could just hold you close while we sleep in.”
“You,” she says, no longer bothering to sound sleepy, “are the last person I’d ask for a cuddle.”
I let that hang between us for a moment. “That wasn’t a no on the other suggestion.”
“In your dreams.”
“Inyourdreams, actually. Youwere dreaming about me, weren’t you?”
Her golden tan skin immediately flushes deep red. Well. Whatwereyou dreaming about, Titaine? Maybe I’m not the only one remembering our best times.
I could make her squirm with another well-earned jab, but my heart isn’t much in it. For tangled with the more intimate memories of our happy years together are the more innocent ones that have meant just as much to me.
I think of my first glimpse of her on the forest road through northwest Laufee, a stunning woman who was breathless yet made of shining steel as we both raced in to keep our parties’ scouts from starting another war between the elves and fae. The first moment her eyes softened just a touch as we exchanged verbal jabs about the trade caravan we were each hoping to secure for our Houses. The first moment she looked at me and thought,Well, he is more formidable than I thought.
The first time she regarded me with respect, as I offered to split the caravan with her House as a gesture of goodwill. And the first moment we kissed beside the bonfire on the way back to Avalonne, the tensions of our Houses’ enmity melting away as the star-filled night loosened our inhibitions.
It wasn’t love at first sight. But these were the moments that planted the seeds of my love for her. And I cannot forget them, no matter how much they make my heart ache.
I finish washing and dress quickly, using the excuse of retrieving my cloak from the innkeepers to give Titaine room to wash and ready herself. But the truth is, I need air.
The little room has never felt as stifling as it does now, filled with memories of the beautiful life I no longer have. Titaine might not hate me, but it doesn’t mean she’ll forgive me.
Until that happens—if it ever does—I will never be free of this pain.
