Page 76 of King of Immortal Tithe (Darkmourn Universe 2)

“Well, I am going.” I forced a smile over my shoulder. I could only bear to look at him for a moment before my knees felt weak. His long, naked body was outstretched across the crumpled sheets, only his modesty was covered by a pathetic slip of material that one gust of wind could move. Locks of obsidian hair splayed out across the pillow in a halo. His tired, rich eyes narrowed upon me with hungry intention.

Surely, he was satisfied. It had been hours since I had last sat upon him as though I was a King, and he was my throne. My chest warmed as my eyes flicked over the knife that lay forgotten on the bedside cabinet. I had to fight the urge to climb back into his arms and distract myself with his company instead of breakfast.

“Then we will both assist Ana if you are so adamant,” Faenir said, kicking his legs over the bed to stand. As he did so, the little covering of the sheets fell away from his cock as though reminding me what I was missing out on.

“Myrinn will be pleased to hear that Faenir laboured in his kitchens. What would she say, knowing you are finallyminglingwith the people?”

I threw on a newly made black tunic and matching leather trousers which Haxton’s seamstress had made for me. Faenir changed also, his outfit overwhelming with grandeur, from his billowing ivory cloak to the formfitting shirt and trousers beneath. All the while, he did not stop looking at me.

Faenir always watched me as though he were searching for something. It was one of many quirks that thrilled me about him.

Once changed into something more suitable for being seen, we moved through the bustling manor hand in hand. Faenir grew quiet as we passed the many serving staff, who each bowed at him. He kept his gait proud and chin raised, as if he did not see anyone at all.I imagined he expected fear from the people, but the way they looked upon Faenir was with nothing of the sort. Admiration. Excitement. He did not seem to notice it.

In time, he would. At least I hoped.

I realised something was amiss before we reached the kitchens located in the lower levels of the manor. Usually, as we reached the main atrium in Haxton, the air would sing with the smells of freshly cooked foods, cured meats, fried potatoes and an array of delicious wonders that Ana prepared daily.

Today the air was empty. My stomach grumbled in response to the lack of scents. Ana had not yet missed a meal, and she prepared many.

By the time we navigated through the dining room, down the curved steps and into the kitchen, we came to find it void of the songs of cooking and warmth. Ana was nowhere to be seen.

Her maid danced around the cold stone room until he saw Faenir and I. He gasped. The pots he carried clattered to the floor, then the spewing of his apologies burst out as he bowed deeply to hide the scarlet staining his youthful cheeks.

“Your Highness, I am sorry for the delay. Terrible! I feel truly embarrassed that you have had to come looking for food. I have failed you. Please, do not trouble yourself down here. If you would…” He hardly stopped for breath.

“We did not intend to surprise you.” Faenir stopped him from vomiting any more excuses; his voice was crisp yet edged with honest concern.

“We came to offer to help,” I said, eyes scanning the room for Ana as though she would burst beyond the pantry with arms full of dried goods.

“No help required,” he spluttered, then stumbled over his words quickly, “But I don’t wish to tell you what to do, Your Highness. If you want to help, then you are welcome. I mean, this is your home, you can do what you like—”

“What,” Faenir said, interrupting the panicked boy, “is your name?”

He swallowed hard and loud, the lump in his throat bobbing. “Harrison.”

“Harrison, where is Ana?” I asked.

The poor boy looked as though he was about to cry. Harrison’s lower lip quivered, and his full cheeks flushed a deeper scarlet. It was not from fear that caused such a reaction this time.He exhaled, dropping his raised shoulders and practically folding in on himself.

I looked up to Faenir, who tilted his head inquisitively.

“I am so sorry…”

“You have got nothing to be sorry for, but please answer Arlo’s question. About Ana, what has happened?”

“It is her little girl,” Harrison finally said, fat goblets of tears leaking down the curves of his face. Strands of snot joined, spilling ferociously, before he swept them away with the back of his sleeve.

“Go on,” Faenir implored as the boy had to catch his breath. “If something is the matter, then it is important we know so we can help.”

I pulled free of Faenir’s hand and edged towards the boy. Taking his shaking shoulders into my hands, I encouraged him to calm down. “Do not be scared. Take your time.”

Ana was one of a handful of elves who had brought children to Haxton. The manor had housing for serving staff that was kept separate from the main building itself in the northern grounds; I had passed it on my first day. Forgotten from years of disuse, it had been covered with overgrown greenery. I imagined that was where Ana was now.

Harrison took a moment to steady himself. “Ana’s little May is sick. She has been for a while. It’s why she had to bring her here. Ana had no family to leave her with in thecity.”

“What is the matter with her?” Faenir asked, visibly tense from what Harrison said.

“She is dying. Ana didn’t come to work because she dreads to leave May’s side.”

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