“You’re not horrible, Ami.” I bit back telling her I loved her. She knew that and it didn’t help any of this. “And I’m sure. Get some sleep and things will look better in the morning. I’ve got this handled.”
“You always do.” I couldn’t interpret the twist she put on that. She bit her lip, as if wishing she could take it back, then burst out, “But don’t let them fall asleep in cat form. It’s not good for them and—”
“Ami,” I interrupted, “I know.”
“They’re so young,” she explained, eyes filling with tears again. “And I can’t stop crying.”
“It’s been a long day. A hard one after a long night. You need to sleep.”
She wiped her nose and nodded, then turned and held up her shoulder-length hair from her high collar. “Would you undo my laces? I can’t deal with the maids right now.”
“Of course,” I said, though I had to clear my throat to get it out. How many times had I performed this simple service for her? Hundreds, in just the short time we’d known each other. The cloth parted, revealing her sugary skin, the sweet curve of her spine all the way down to the most perfect ass created by Glorianna. My fingers burned to caress those lines. So many times we’d initiated sex this way—me loosening the laces and revealing her glorious body as I stripped her naked. If I’d realized, the last time I did this, that I’d never again have the privilege, I might have lingered over it. Instead we’d gone at it in a furious rush, both of us too impatient to savor.
As we’d done everything between us.
My hands shook, so I tucked them in my sleeves again. “There.” My voice grated over gravel, barely audible. She glanced over her shoulder at me, clutching the loosened dress to her bosom, eyes wide and full of emotion. The same thoughts had occurred to her, I felt sure, and I wondered if she felt the same regret.
“Ash…” she said, but didn’t finish.
“Go to bed, Ami,” I told her again. “I’ll handle things.”
She dipped her chin, lashes fluttering against her cheeks, then turned away and went into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.
5
The next morning dawned bright and clear, fortunately. I was gritty-eyed enough from lack of sleep that I wouldn’t have wanted to face talking Ami out of traveling through a blizzard. I’d played with the kittens awhile, then coaxed them into playing I Eat You, a game the shapeshifter kids in Annfwn loved to play. That had them trying several different forms, which—along with a well-timed sugar crash—wore them out enough to fall asleep sometime before dawn.
At least they’d be easy to load up, as they were still fast asleep. The Tala nurses reappeared at daybreak and bundled up the kids, laughing merrily when I grumped at them for their defection the night before. Tala are notoriously difficult to intimidate. We might as well have cats as nurses.
Ami, looking as fresh and gorgeous as the sunrise in a white gown decorated with gold stars, chatted happily with the duchess, saying her farewells, while I conferred with Graves on our route. The duchess had loaned Ami several white and gold open sleighs in lieu of our carriages, which would not only enable us to travel much faster over the freshly fallen snow, but also to cut across the countryside and make directly for Windroven, rather than sticking to the more roundabout roads. When the twins awoke, they should at least be entertained enough by the novelty of the transportation to stay out of trouble.
What we’d find when we reached Windroven was another story.
“But, Your Highness, it can’t be safe,” the duchess was saying to Ami, who smiled indulgently. “The stories I’ve been hearing… And some of them from my own people, who I trust implicitly. Stay here for the Feast of Moranu. There’s plenty of room and I’m delighted to have you.”
“If only because it will make you the most envied hostess in the Thirteen,” Ami teased with a brilliant smile.
Lady Veronica toyed with one of her earrings, assuming a demure expression. “Well, a girl can’t avoid such consequences.” Then she sobered. “But I’m very serious, Your Highness. Stay here. Don’t go to Windroven. Not with the volcano making those noises and a succession of Mornai storms predicted.” She spotted me and beckoned me over peremptorily. “Ash, tell her. Her Highness will listen to you.”
Ami gazed at me expectantly, blue eyes clear as the sky framed by the sunrise of her hair, full mouth curved in regal serenity. She’d recovered all her poise—and had once again erected a wall of impermeable ice between us. I bowed to her formally, largely to acknowledge the distance she’d reestablished. Better this way.
“I have advised Her Highness as much, Your Grace, but she is determined.”
“I am,” Ami inserted, smiling at the duchess to soften the declaration. “Hugh’s people have told me that volcano has rumbled off and on for generations. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t be alive to keep us warm through the winter.”
“Well, and indeed that’s true, Your Highness, but never like this. And with the magic returned to the world, well, you know what they say.” She glanced about and leaned in. “The dragon,” she whispered loudly.
“I’ve dealt with more cantankerous creatures than dragons,” Ami informed her airily, sliding a hard-eyed look at me, so I wouldn’t mistake her meaning. “They’re easy to chase off, despite their growling. Cowards at heart.”
The duchess, far too refined to reveal if she understood the undercurrents, simply waved her hand as yet another sleigh pulling up, drawn by more horses from her stables. “If I cannot dissuade Your Highness, I can at least send along decorations and supplies. Glorianna only knows what a musty mess Windroven is. Sadly, the moonflowers can’t withstand the cold, so I’m sending silk ones—and directions for sewing more so your maids can do that, in case they don’t know how. You must at least have the traditional treats and wines for the Feast.” She frowned at the sleigh as if it had failed her in some terrible fashion. “Oh, I hate to think of our queen having such a tatty Feast of Moranu. Give me another hour and I’ll—”
“Thank you, Veronica, for everything.” Ami embraced the duchess, cutting her off, then strolled toward the sleighs, calling out a question to Graves. Her skirts and trailing cloak left a wide swath of cleared snow behind her, punctuated by the steps of her little boots.
I stared at the trail, my attention caught. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep catching up with me, because I shook my head to clear it of the trance when the duchess put her hand on my arm.
“It’s not easy,” she murmured to me, “to love a woman of higher station.”