Page 27 of To Sway a Prince
He gave a slow nod of his head, then looked away. Dragging his hand back through his silver hair, he seemed to be weighing what I'd said. "I think this is a point at which you and I are quite similar. We both want to ensure that the dragon is cared for. You would put his well-being above all else. Good. So you swear itthen? On your life—on your spirit?" He turned to face me again and held out his hand. Silver light shone in his palm, the runes for the oath flashing in his flesh.
"I already told you I would." I frowned even more at this. What was I missing in this? "Why do you require a vow? Do you think me a faithless dragon rider?"
"You are not formally a dragon rider nor are you a sentinel. I do not know you." Though his voice was calm and cool, each word enunciated as crisply as if for a vow recitation, something else lurked beneath.
"My word is?—"
"If I am to trust your word, then make the vow," he said firmly. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Make the vow. Choose the words yourself if you fear I am trying to fool you, but ensure that it is at its core that you will not abandon Zephyrus and if he feels that you should leave, then you will leave. Make this vow, or I will rescind my offer of hospitality and send you from this place."
12
STRANGE VOWS
Why was Ramiel insisting on this vow? It unsettled me, but I could not spot a trap. It was just…intrusive. "I will vow that if Zephyrus no longer wants me to remain here, then I will depart…unless his life is at stake and I believe that in remaining I can save him."
I half expected him to protest or snatch his hand away and reject the vow. After all, if he was going to try to trick me into leaving, that was what made the most sense. But instead a smile broke over his face, far more satisfied than I expected. He kept his palm turned upward. "I accept this vow. Now make it."
My instincts prickled at this, my aura stretching out. I couldn't spot any deception within him. No harm toward Zephyrus or me. Only that this vow was exceptionally important to him. Turning my hand over, I scrawled the runes over my palm. They glowed golden, tickling my palm. "I so vow it and bind this to my spirit, my flesh, my soul, and my mind." I pressed my hand to his then, palm to palm.
A pleasant warmth flooded me as our palms connected—not just the heat and energy of the runes, but something deeper. I'd made such vows before, of course, but never one that felt so...binding. So permanent. And over something so basic and small. I would have obeyed Zephyrus's wishes even without the vow.
Ramiel knew this too. So why ask for the vow?
I stared at our joined hands. His dwarfed mine, strong and surprisingly warm, especially for a sorcerer. His fingers flexed slightly over mine, curling ever so briefly over the tops of my fingers. Calluses lined his index and middle finger as well as a point at the base of his palm. Heat flared within me.
What was wrong with me? This had to be loneliness. Maybe just a need for something more permanent. I'd spent fifteen years with Zephyrus, never lingering anywhere long enough to call home. Always moving, always watching over my shoulder. The thought of remaining here, even temporarily, made something inside me twist.
"Is something wrong?" Ramiel asked.
His voice cut into my consciousness. I pulled my hand away, flexing my fingers as the last of the golden light faded. "Nothing. Just...sorcerers usually have cold hands." I shrugged, pushing away the odd sensation. Forcing a smile, I lifted my gaze to his.
"Do they?" He sounded amused, one eyebrow lifting. "I've never noticed."
The heat was still unpleasant in my cheeks and up my spine as I gestured toward his chest. "We should get to work on those knots before they tighten again. The grave bane is temporary. We need to find a place where you can lie down. And you'll need to remove your tunic and surcoat."
He scoffed at me, his eyebrow arching higher.
More heat blazed through me. "Not like that." I tried to think of something to say to ease the tension. "I'm not just trying to see you without your shirt." The words stumbled out, making me seem more flustered than I was. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not my type." A lie. Bold and stinging. And ithad stumbled past my lips so quickly. Polph, that wasn't what I meant to say.
"Well," he said dryly. "That makes me feel wonderful."
I shook my head, not certain whether the lie or shame hurt more. More importantly, I couldn't bear the thought of him believing that. "No. I'm sorry. That was cruel." I released a tight breath. I really had lost my ability to deal with people. The truth seemed the wisest course now, and I hoped he would accept it and let us move on. Thread rot, this man was getting under my skin. "You are very handsome, Ramiel. It was a poor excuse of a joke. If I were one who believed in mates or love, I'd certainly be interested."
He chuckled at this. The lines in his brow deepened, and some formed around his eyes. "You don't believe in mates or love?" He motioned for me to follow him, then picked up the chest and the book, and strode toward the staircase.
I twitched my shoulders, realizing how poorly I had expressed myself. This was so tedious. Why did he bring out the dumbest parts of me? "It's…no, that's not the right way to put it. I just…I decided that based on the life I lead, I was never going to be with someone like that. I…" What was wrong with me? I stiffened, blinking in shock. Had I really been about to tell him that I had scourged my mate bond? That I had eliminated that male from my life to protect him? "Some people aren't good for love. At least not like that." If I weren't so good at picking up on spells, I'd have suspected he had enchanted me. But not even someone as powerful or skilled as him could do that without leaving behind some trace.
A soft laugh escaped his lips, more relaxed and calm than at any point before. Oddly so. He started up the staircase. "I can understand that. I made a similar choice. No woman deserves the fate that would await her here with me." The stairs creaked beneath his booted feet. At the next landing, he pressed his handagainst the door and pressed it open. The door yielded on silent hinges, opening into a hall that smelled of magic, cedar, incense, and smoke. "Do you love it though?"
"Love what?" I almost added 'being alone?' but I held off.
As I stepped into the hall, I realized that this was the one floor that the pulseporting had never dropped me, but it was clearly where Ramiel lived most of the time. The shield with the three swords was marked on the wall, that comforting, peaceful sensation present even more than before. The air was warmer here, quiet and pleasant. Dark-blue velvet curtains hung at the windows, the one nearest us partially opened as if he had been checking outside. A textured leather book lay on one of the tables beneath an oil color painting of a peace treaty signing among elementals and rune fae. Probably something he had been reading before he got distracted. White beeswax candles, some half burnt, littered the tables and shelves as well as the oil lamps, and a series of hooks held several cloaks, some weather-stained, others mended, all dark in color.
Somehow this floor felt like him. And I didn't know how to explain how that made me feel.
"Flying through the world with a dragon and your will," he said.
"Oh…" I dipped my head forward. A heaviness stole over me, but I forced a smile. "It's beautiful. The freedom. The wind in my hair. The possibilities." The cold nights. The hard ground. The never knowing how much longer this could continue. "Is that something you wanted?"
