Page 144 of The Second Death of Locke
“Yes, your majesty.”
“I’ll never get used to that,” Pia muttered when the girl was gone.
“Just wait until you hear what they call Kier,” Grey said.
“I’ve heardjackassbandied about a bit down in town,” Laurella offered. There was a low noise of irritation from the table as she beat him at another hand.
Imarta moved to Grey’s dresser, going through her earring collection. Most of it had been taken from her mother’s rooms. She settled on a pair of garnets, which she handed to Pia.
“I can put on my own earrings,” Grey said, taking them herself. “And get dressed. Truly, you’re all clucking over me like hens.”
“I’m not,” Laurella protested.
“No, but you’re putting Kier in a mood, andI’mthe one who has to spend the evening by his side.”
There was no protest at that, but they also didn’t let Grey put her hair up herself. Finally, she waved them off, asking if they wouldpleasego to Osar ahead of time to make sure everything was to their liking. Imarta paused after Pia and Laurella left, her hand pressed to Grey’s cheek. Over the last two days, during long walks along Locke’s paths, Grey had told her everything—with no redactions.
“I’ll make your excuses,” she said, dropping a kiss on Grey’s forehead.
“Thank you,” Grey said, squeezing Imarta’s hand once more before she went.
Kier came to her back as she pulled on her heavy dress, his hands pushing hers aside to do up the little buttons. She knew he was annoyed, because he did not press a kiss to her bare shoulder blade or the curve of her neck.
“I told you not to,” she said, unable to hide her smile as he met her gaze in the mirror.
“Oh, shut up.” Buttons done, his hands fell to her waist, tightening around her. “You look exquisite tonight.”
She studied him in his formal suit, gray and black and severe, making him equal parts fearsome and handsome; his hazel eyes were clear and startling in their depth. “As do you,” she said, her smile deepening. She turned in his arms and leaned up onto her toes, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her.
“We can’t,” he said after a moment, pulling away. “Places to be, and so on.”
“We could skip,” Grey murmured, kissing his jaw.
“We shouldn’t. It’s in your honor.”
“And yours,” she protested. “If I recall, it’s also to celebrate the shields. And the Isle wouldn’t be back and safe without you.”
“Your majesty?” Tress had returned, hesitating at the doorway, eyes lowered.
Grey stepped away from Kier. Though some who worked in the fortress had guessed the nature of the commander’s relationship with the Lady, she liked to keep it protected, close to her chest—she worried that, someday, someone might see Kier as her weakness.
It was a feeling she was trying very hard to get over.
“Your guests are in the sitting room,” Tress said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Grey said, nodding to dismiss the girl. She moved quickly, keeping her eyes down. According to the rumors, much of Locke still feared her for her power—but that, too, was something she was trying to get over; and late at night, when it worried her, Kier told her over and over again all the reasons why a healthy dose of fear was a good thing.
They went into the sitting room. Eron had already found the wine Grey kept for guests and was pouring a round, passing glasses to Brit and Ola. Near the door, Sela paced; when she saw Grey, her eyes lit up, and she flung herself at her. Grey caught her with a huff as Sela squeezed her even tighter than her corset.
“You’re wearing the dress,” she said against Grey’s shoulder. “It’s my favorite.”
“I love it,” Grey said. She pulled back to study the girl’s face, noting the dark marks of sleeplessness under her eyes. “The whole wardrobe has been invaluable.”
“The armor did fail, though,” Kier said, smirking, as he took Sela from Grey’s arms for his own hug.
“It was decorative!” she protested.
“First lesson of working with Flynn? Anything that looks like it could be fought inwillbe fought in.”
