Page 65 of Crown of Iron
It's difficult not to consider what people would say if I took Kyron as a lover. They won’t be quick to accept him. It doesn't matter that he has led our soldiers in battles against the Stigians, that he has fought and bled to protect our way of life. Most people will struggle to see past his transgressions that earned him his black-colored eyes.
“I can't do that to him, Leif. He has already overcome so much and earned the respect of his soldiers. How could I ask him to lower himself? People will see him as nothing more than the Stigian whore of the queen.”
“You can say you don't want to take a lover, but I don't think it's fair for you to make that decision for Kyron. He knows what he can and can’t handle and what he’s willing to sacrifice for you.”
“We haven't even been friendly for that long, and now we’re talking about making sacrifices?” I chuckle and look up at the glass dome in the center of the hand painted ceiling. “But I will admit that you and I having dinner dates in the banquet hall with Kyron and Wel would be interesting.”
Leif smirks and says, “I always thought the fun part would be when we retired to our separate rooms for the evening and the men we want to share our beds with sneak in late at night.”
My cheeks burn with the images of Kyron in my bed, his tan skin against my soft sheets and his hair mussed when he wakes up next to me. His naked body wrapped around mine. I want to experience that with him so badly.
I shift in my seat and run my fingers under the collar of my dress, pulling it away from my heated skin. “The rumors would be terrible,” I say.
“But would we be happy?” Leif's hazel eyes shine with a glint of hope.
It never crossed my mind how important it is to him that we both be happy, even if we accomplish it by unconventional means. “As happy as we can be within our circumstance,” I say.
Leif pulls on my arm, yanking me from my seat and dragging meover the table with my legs flailing behind me. I yelp in surprise as he pulls me into his arms and tightly hugs me. The tome falls to the floor with a thump, echoing throughout the library.
The archivist clears his throat, and Leif releases me saying, “Sorry, I'm sure you know how young love goes. She just can't keep her hands off me.” Leif turns to me with an exaggerated look of shock. “Please, Your Grace, I wish to keep my innocence until our wedding night.”
The archivist snorts. It would appear that even the elderly have heard about Leif's sexual escapades.
I hoist the book back onto the table, and Leif says, “What are you doing with that?”
“I was looking for clues, but it’s all so impersonal. You would think Micah would share his own account of the separation, but other than letters written to the people and transcripts of his speeches, I've found nothing in his own words.”
Leif points at the archivist. “Have you asked our studious friend over there?”
“I was hoping to stay inconspicuous and do it on my own.”
He walks around the table and guides me out of my chair. “Have you not learned anything from your time working with the army? Things are easier when you have help.” He gives me a gentle shove toward the old man bent over his workbench.
I bat his hand away and smooth the skirt of my dress as I approach the archivist. “Excuse me, sir.”
He looks up at me over the rim of his glasses. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“I was wondering if you could direct me to some scripts written by the king.”
“As in his personal journals?” he asks.
I clap my hands together in excitement and at the same time, I kick myself for not thinking of that first. “Yes!”
“The king remains in possession of his journals. They will be passed down to you upon his death, so he may continue to bestow his wisdom when he resides as one with the Statera. It will be at your discretion to give them to the library.”
“Of course,” I grumble and quickly change my tone when the archivist furrows his bushy, gray brows. “How very thoughtful of our king.”
He nods at that, and I march back to the table, gather my discardedscraps of papers, and toss them in the fireplace. Leif moves in beside me while I watch my theories burn. My efforts today were in vain, but at least I have a new course of action. I need to read Micah's journals.
When the paper is nothing but ash, I turn to Leif and say, “Looks like I won't settle very well into my new quarters tonight. I think a little midnight exploration will help with my unease.”
One side of Leif's lips pulls up, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Sounds like trouble.”
We smile and at the same time say, “The fun kind of trouble.”
A light tap comes from my door, and I crack it open in time to see a familiar muscular figure turn at the end of the dark hallway. I wait for the click of Leif's footsteps to fade into the distance. Everything is going to plan so far. Leif will watch and distract any of the guards who might find me wandering through the palace, while I'm busy with a little breaking and entering.
I ease out of my room and hurry down the corridor. The floor is freezing under my bare feet, and my nightgown and matching robe of pale pink satin and delicate lace do little to ward off the cold. The fancy sleeping attire is just one of the many pieces of the new wardrobe that awaited me when I moved into my quarters. Not only must I act the part of future queen, but I must dress it as well.
