Page 34 of Water Dragon
He repeated the request, more than once, as they approached the peak for a second time and, once they lay spent next to one another, he reached for her hand.
“Be mine,” he said. “As I’ve always been yours.”
“Poetic,” she smiled, a teasing glint in her gaze. He returned the smile, but then they both grew serious. “I will,” she said. “You know I already am.”
And he pulled her to him, embracing her tightly, feeling as though if he ever lost her, he would lose his mind without her. How had he ever thought anyone else could share his bed, his life? He hadn’t. Not really. Lady Shannon had been a mirage he had conjured to hide his fears of losing the love of his life, an event that his mind had made seem inevitable as he moved into this next phase of his royal duties. Relief flooded him then. Iona would be with him through it all.
The acknowledgment was mighty within him of how she had never been a crutch—she was his cornerstone.
“I love you,” he said into her hair, pulling in that enticing scent of hers.
“I love you too,” she said. He placed a kiss on her forehead, resting back with his arms still around her, her cheek against his chest.
***
“I’m confused about Sir Patrick’s actions,” Iona said an hour later. They were in front of the cold fireplace—the balmy night not requiring any additional heating—sharing a platter of fruit and cheese brought up from the kitchens.
Iona had hidden herself behind the bed as they were brought in by a maid she knew like a sister. It had made Malcolm barely able to contain his mirth, and Iona had hit him for it once they were alone again. He thought back to all the times she had done exactly that, her fist hard on his arm, and he felt soft elation that the expression of her frustration would culminate here. With her feeling self-conscious and him reveling in it.
She wore one of his robes, her dress at last discarded on the floor, and he wondered if the maid might not have noticed it as she exited.
“What of his actions?” Malcolm asked.
“Well, why would he suddenly engage in such stupid provocations? First by kissing me to humiliate you, and then placing a spearhead on his lance and even going so far as to enchant it. He is a knight, and his knighthood has always seemed the dearest to him in this world, letting him get away with all sorts. Why would he risk his standing only to settle some score with you? Perhaps he felt slighted when you brought me forward,” she acknowledged. “But wouldn’t it be cleverer of him to bide his time, to find a moment to strike out? If he aimed for murder, why do it before an audience? Before his own king?”
“Because he is part of the conspiracy,” Malcolm replied simply. “We wished to provoke them into revealing themselves, and Sir Patrick is the first of them to do so.”
“Yes, but why was he so easily provoked into revealing himself?” she asked.
“To send a message,” Malcolm said. “To let us know that they can get to us.”
“But they would not have gotten to you unless you had moronically enough volunteered yourself on that horse,” she remarked.
He gave her a look at her comment but had to concede that she was right. In all the commotion of the past few days, he hadn’t thought farther than the stated need of him continuing to compete in the tournament.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying I don’t think the attack on you was a warning. I think it was a diversion,” she replied.
His eyebrows rose at that. “How so?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I believe whoever is behind this can sense a culmination happening. Their conspiracy has been discovered and the crowned heads are all gathered in one place. Magic has played a part in the previous attempts at ending the bloodlines and now the spearhead was enchanted.”
“But it did not kill me,” he remarked.
“No,” she said. “Why didn’t it?”
He furrowed his brows at her.
“Because…” He thought about it, realization dawning. “Because my death would not end the bloodline. My father would simply take a new mate, sire another heir. But…”
“But if the spell had some other purpose…” Iona filled in, thinking as hard as he was, both of their eyes widening as they drew the same conclusion.
“Sir Patrick’s provocation,” Malcolm said eagerly. “Kissing you and making me step in… could it have been meant to make the attack seem personal rather than tied to the conspiracy?”
Iona nodded in agreement. “To the people it must have seemed entirely personal. Perhaps to most of the gathered royalty as well. It could be the beginning of a smear campaign. To make them think you’re really to blame for this spat. That you brought it on yourself.”
“To what end?” Malcolm asked.
