Page 18 of A Storm in Every Heart
Daemon grumbles in acknowledgement and runs a hand through his coppery-brown hair. Neither of us is exactly chatty about anything, let alone feelings, but I can tell he knows me well enough to know I’m not actually as fine as I’d like him to believe.
“Want to get a drink?” he asks, jerking his head vaguely toward the village.
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“So what?” he claps me hard on the shoulder. “That just means there won’t be as many people in the pub to stare at us.”
I shrug and then nod. He has a point. Anyway, a drink—or five—sounds good right now.
We make an unspoken agreement not to invite anyone else to come with us, and set off together down the winding cobblestone road into the picturesque town of Storia. The villagers and merchants milling around the main street all stop whatever they’re doing to smile and call greetings at us as we pass. Going anywhere with Daemon in Vernallis means tacking an extra hour onto the journey so he can stop to kiss babies and wink at old women, all the while insisting that he isn’t suited to being king.
At the end of the short street, just past the trinket shop from earlier, is a thatched-roof pub. We duck inside, and I’m pleased to find that it’s as empty as Daemon promised it would be—only a few older Fae playing cards in the corner, and a group of mouse-like pixies chattering away at the bar.
I make a beeline toward the unoccupied end of the long, weathered counter, and Daemon and I take a seat. The elderly tavern owner bustles over and plops two full tankards in front of us before we’ve even flagged her down.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” She beams at Daemon before turning an equally wide smile on me. “And Lord Kastian. Can I get you anything else?”
Daemon pulls a handful of gold out of his pocket and tries to hand it to the woman. “Nothing else right now, Madam Magdalena, but you can take my gold this time.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that, Your Majesty,” she gushes.
“You’d be doing me a favor, really.” He gives her a stern expression. “I won’t have anyone saying I don’t pay my debts.”
“I’d take that seriously,” I tell her with a wink. “He once tracked me down in Dyaspora to pay off a decades-old wager.”
Her eyes go wide, and finally, she opens her hand and takes the money. “Oh…alright then, but I’m going to bring you something to eat at the very least.”
She walks away, and Daemon shakes his head. “I wish the villagers would stop trying to give us things. It should be the other way around.”
“You’re giving them enough, just be grateful,” I reply, taking a sip of my drink. “Or at least, don’t stop accepting gifts until after she’s brought over the food. We missed lunch.”
Daemon nods in agreement before taking a sip of his own drink. “Fuck, I needed this.”
I don’t bother asking what he means. It’s been around-the-clock work for all of us to pull Vernallis out of the free-fall that Daemon’s half-brother, Thorne, sent the kingdom into.
“You need to take a break,” I comment.
“Maybe,” he grunts. “As if this week wasn’t busy enough, it never occurred to me that anyone would ask my permission to marry Odessa or that we’d have to have fucking council meetings about it.”
Deep breath in, deep breath out…
I refuse to overreact to this. I should be able to talk casually about Odessa without letting her completely invade my thoughts—not least because Daemon is practically her brother and every time I’ve ever had a hint of an impure thought about her I feel as if my best friend somehowknows. It’s both horrifying and helpful because it keeps me from letting my fascination grow into an obsession.
“Would you have let her go to Hydratta if she’d agreed?” I ask calmly.
Daemon barks a laugh. “I don’t think I’d have much of a choice in the matter. Odessa doesn’t need anyone’s permission to get married, least of all mine.”
“Not if she wanted to marry someone average,” I say through gritted teeth, “But this would be an alliance and you actually would have to weigh in on that.”
He looks unconcerned. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I think if I tried to tell Dessa what she could or couldn’t do, she’d do the opposite just to spite me. But it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway. Obviously she’s not going to go.”
“True.” I suck down another large sip of my drink.
“I think these royal marriage customs are bullshit, anyway. Do you remember when Thorne went to Hydratta to meet your sister?”
I shake my head, grateful for the change of subject. “Only vaguely.”
He looks at me sideways. “Really? I remember it vividly.”
