Page 176 of Silverbow
He cracked an eye open, taking in the moonlight dancing off her pale skin. “Aren’t you cold?”
She fanned herself with a hand and turned her face up to take in the dazzling façade of the palace at night. She reclined back far enough that Oryn extended his wall, his heart leaping. She didn’t notice as her eyes swept over the glowing orange windows and finally up to the stars twinkling overhead. She reached a hand up and traced a finger over the Dragon’s Fang in the north.
“I see you’ve overcome your fear of the drop,” he growled.
“It was more like a momentary hesitation.”
Whatever she wanted to call it, he wished she’d have a few more of those.
“I never thought I’d make it this far,” she said softly.
“I told you I would deliver you to Drozia.”
She smiled at that, still looking up. “You didn’t ask me to dance.”
Oryn studied her profile, shadow warring with the light that spilled from the palace. “I didn’t think you would want me to.”
“What gave you that impression?”
“I rather like my hands,” Oryn huffed.
She bit her lower lip as she smiled. “Do you like the dress?”
Oryn scrubbed a hand down his face. “I want to throw that gods damned dress back in whatever sea it crossed to get here.”
Enya huffed a breathy laugh that made him go still as death. His gifts seemed poised to run amok, simmering just beneath his skin. She rose smoothly to her feet and flashed him a wine fogged smile. “Are you coming back inside?”
He shook his head.
A pout flickered across her features. “Why not?”
“Because someone suggested my moral compass is in need of recalibration and I’ve had far too much stonebrew.”
Her laughter echoed in his ears long after she’d disappeared back into the Great Hall. When Oryn finally returned to the feast, Leon caught his eye from where he stood with a knot of his advisors and jerked his head toward his private audience chamber. He was glad to follow, the noise of the hall muffled behind the heavy door.
“Alsbet is rather smitten,” he growled as he settled his pipe between his teeth.
Oryn sighed heavily, lighting his own pipe. “Lady Silverbow seems to have that effect on people.”
A rumble like falling boulders came from Leon’s chest. “Just not you, brother?” He chuckled.
Oryn didn’t answer as he took a deep draw on the pipe, letting the smoke fill his lungs and chase out what the stonebrew had not.
“A message arrived today.”
“From?”
Leon puffed out several rings of smoke, watching them drift across the room. “Pallas Davolier.”
Oryn’s heart skipped a beat. “Does he know about the eggs?”
Leon shrugged. “If he does, he didn’t mention it.”
“What’s the demand?” He asked.
“The return of what belongs to him.”
Oryn’s temper flared. Enya didn’tbelongto the false king. “I promised her Drozia before I realized who she was, Leon. I can take her to the Vale or-”
