Page 110 of Of Storm and Emerald
They rode for a while, Auraelia peppering him with questions about his kingdom that he hadn’t told her in the letters. He explained that he and his sister alternated who went to the other islands to check in and make sure that everything was running smoothly. And how they each spent one week a month with their people there.
He told her about the people on Malaena–the middle island–and how they harvested obsidian from the mountainside. Forming it into knives, arrow heads, and other weapons and tools that were needed. As well as using the sand from their beaches to make the colored glass that was found throughout the city.
He explained that Lunaria–the smallest of the islands–was where the temple for Narissa stood. Sitting on top of the highest mountain peak so that they priestesses could see both the sea and the stars without interference. How they lived a simple life without the comforts most people long for in life. He told her of the summer he spent there three years ago, after his magic manifested, learning more about his goddess and how to connect and control the shadows around and within him.
He was giving her a whole new look into his life, and it bandaged the pieces that had been fractured the day before a little bit more.
When they came to the center of the city, she had a feeling that she knew where they were heading. The smell of fresh bread and pastries filled the air, and made her mouth water.
“Please tell me we’re going in there.”
Daemon’s smile broadened, and she matched it with one of her own. “Of course, we are. My woman loves food, so I’m bringing her to get food.” Then he winked, and the butterflies in her stomach began to flutter in response.
He dismounted his horse–a menacing, solid black stallion named Poe that looked like Daemon’s shadows had been given life–as they approached the small cottage style building.
Every time she looked at his horse, their conversation from the stables brought a smile to her face.
“Poe? You named that behemoth Poe?” Auraelia asked incredulously as the black stallion glared down at her.
Daemon laughed as he stroked the animal's velvety muzzle. “I was only ten, what did you want me to name him? Balthazar? Or maybe Leviathan?”
“I feel like either of those would fit better than Poe at this point.”
“Maybe now, but not when he was a lanky-legged colt. Which is what he was when I got him.” His voice was full of laughter, and it brought a smile to her face.
She kept her distance until Daemon grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Handing her a carrot, and keeping his hand on hers, he let Poe sniff her hand. And after he realized she had a treat for him, his ears perked forward, and he’d allowed her to stroke his nose.
The slight pull from Daemon grabbing the bridle of her horse pulled her from the memory. She was borrowing Yvaine’s horse, Luna, who was a beautiful moon-white mare with crystal-blue eyes and the temperament of a springtime breeze.
Leading them to a tree covered in fluffy red blooms that stood in front of the bakery, he tied the reins of the mounts around a low branch.
When he helped her dismount, her body slid down his until her feet were firmly on the ground, and it lit a fire low in her stomach.
“It’s called a bottle-brush tree.” His voice was like velvet, lush and soft.
“What?” She was lost in the closeness of his body, her mind unable to comprehend his words.
He inclined his head to where the horses were secured. “The tree. It’s called a bottle-brush tree because of the shape of the blooms.”
When he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, but the moment was spoiled by the sound of the cottage door opening.
“Prince Daemon!” A stout elderly woman shouted from the small doorway of the bakery. “I’m so glad you’ve come. I have a surprise for you–who’s your pretty friend?”
Her attention was locked onto Auraelia as she continued to cross the yard toward the quaint wooden fence that surrounded the property.
“Auntie, this is Princess Auraelia from the Court of Emerald,” he responded as the elderly woman got closer. “Also, how many times have I asked you to stop using my title in informal settings?” His chide was playful, and he pulled her in for a hug when she reached them.
“A princess, huh? Maybequeenone day, hmm?” She elbowed Daemon in his side as she jested, and a flush colored his cheeks when his gaze met Auraelia’s. The woman then turned her attention onto Auraelia. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m Jodie, but most people around here call me Auntie, and you’re more than welcome to do so as well.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, but please, call me Auraelia or Rae. Like Daemon, I’m not big on formalities–unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Jodie’s eyes grew wide, and a smile spread across her face as she grasped Auraelia’s hands in her old, wrinkled ones and squeezed.
When she released them, she turned and headed back toward the bakery, hollering over her shoulder, “Come on now, I need to pull them out of the oven.”
She and Daemon shared a look, before they both shrugged and followed Jodie into the building.
It was warm inside, but not as warm as his hand on her back as he guided her through the shelves full of baked goods.
