“Yes! I mean, no. I mean … Just kiss me again.”
Tanvir lifted his other hand so that he cradled her face in both hands, and this time slowly leaned in until his lips barely brushed hers, a tender, hesitant kiss that stole her breath and made her ache for more. She grabbed his hips to steady herself. He kissed her again, longer this time, his mouth moving over hers. His hands dropped to wrap around her, pulling her closer, so their bodies melded together. Evelayn gripped his tunic as his hands roamed over her back and hips, pressing her into his chest, his stomach. A strange power—different from her Light Power—grew within Evelayn; a heated, grasping need that urged her to get closer to Tanvir, even though they were already clutching each other, their kissing turning fevered in the misty morning.
The cry of a bird nearby startled Evelayn back to reality, and with a gasp she broke from Tanvir’s embrace. She turned away, breathing more heavily than if they’d been running the entire time. Her lips felt swollen when she lifted her fingers and pressed them against her mouth, still slightly stunned.
“Ev … was I wrong to …”
She shook her head, still trying to regain control of herself. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that she was the one barely able to catch her breath. Finally, she faced Tanvir again. His eyebrows were pulled down in concern and she couldn’t resist teasing him—at least a little.
“I forgive you, by the by.”
Tanvir’s eyes widened. “For which part?”
“For not kissing me on the turret. You were right. I wanted a distraction, but it wasn’t the right time.”
“Oh. Well, um, thank you?”
Evelayn smiled at him and then laughed—the first time she’d laughed in over a week. “Thank you. Despite what you may think, you make me very happy, Lord Tanvir.”
His answering smile was rather shaky. “You make me happy, too, little though I may deserve it.”
Evelayn took his hand in hers, lacing her fingers through his, reveling in the satisfaction that came from feeling free to do so—at least in private. “Goodness, my lord, if you keep sounding so grim, I’m going to start to think the worst of you.”
“Perhaps you should,” he muttered. “I’ve seen things … done things … that I’m not proud of, Evelayn. War is a cruel master and it can make beasts of us all.”
Evelayn’s smile slipped. She stepped closer to Tanvir and imitated what he’d done earlier—cupping his chin in her hand and forcing him to look at her. “I know you had to fight in some terrible battles. You actually saw the people you love die in front of you. It was a mercy that I wasn’t there when my parents were killed, I know that. I don’t hold any of it against you, Tanvir. You’ve done what you had to do to survive—to lead your battalion. I understand that.”
A muscle jumped beneath her hand where his teeth clenched. He didn’t speak, just shook his head slightly. She peered at him, almost certain it looked like his eyes glistened with suppressed tears. But then he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers again. This time his kiss felt almost desperate, as if he were suffocating and she was his only air. She clung to him, holding him tightly, wishing she could absorb his pain and grief, to take it away from him and allow him his happiness.
He pulled away first this time. Before she could say anything else, he glanced up at the sky. “We should get back. They’ll never let me run with you again if we’re late for the meeting.”
Evelayn sighed. “Are you certain we can’t just stay here the rest of the day? I rather prefer this kind of meeting.”
Tanvir laughed softly.
“No, I know, don’t say it. You’re right. Let’s go.” Evelayn gestured for him to lead this time. She followed Tanvir back to the castle, her lips still burning with the memory of his kiss.
THE GARDENS WERE STILL DAMP, THE JEWEL-COLORED flowers dappled with drops of dew and their perfume heavy on the humid air as Ceren ambled down the path. Beside her, Quinlen was quieter than usual. They’d been meeting to go for walks in the morning for the past few days. She wasn’t fool enough to go dashing through the forest at breakneck speeds like Evelayn. She much preferred walking—and speaking—to her companions.
“I waited for Evelayn last night as long as possible,” Ceren had told him when he’d asked how the young queen was after a good night’s rest. “But she never came up to her room, and my mother is getting irritated with me being out so late with her. I had to retire to my quarters. I’m not sure where she was.”
“I’ll ask around quietly. I hope she was able to get the sleep she needed,” Quinlen had responded.
“She must have, if she got up to run this morning.”
He’d nodded, but they’d fallen silent and hadn’t spoken again since.
“Is it very difficult?” Ceren finally asked, when they’d begun their second loop of the gardens, unable to stand the silence any longer.
“What?”
“Being here? Instead of at the warfront. Or do you prefer the peace of the castle to the fighting?”
Quinlen was quiet for a long moment, contemplating. He had a habit of thinking over his answers, responding thoughtfully—carefully. He was so different from Ceren, but she was fascinated by it … by him, if she was truly honest with herself. She’d never known someone who was so methodical and calm.
“I much prefer peace, although I do sometimes feel less … useful here than I did on the warfront. And there’s no comfort in knowing that the peace here is not permanent—that I must soon prepare myself to face the battlefield once more.”
Ceren nodded. “I think I understand what you mean.” The stones were slippery from the mist and rain, and as her attention was fixated on him, Ceren didn’t notice the uneven edge until it was too late. She tripped, twisting her ankle just enough to send her careening forward.
Quinlen grabbed her elbow and yanked her back; she crashed into his chest, his arms going around her to steady her, so she didn’t tumble to the ground.
Ceren’s face burned hot as she regained her balance. Quinlen released her, except for one hand still on her elbow when she stepped back.
“Well, that was nicely done.” She tried to laugh off her humiliation.
“Perhaps it would help if you take my arm?” He let go of her to offer his elbow, and she gratefully tucked her hand into it.
“Well, maybe it was nicely done, after all.” This time her laugh was genuine, and Quinlen joined her.
“You didn’t have to go to such drastic measures to get me to offer you my arm.”
“I’ll bear that in mind next time.” Ceren shook her head at herself and was about to ask him if he planned on attending any of the meals in the dining hall that day, when Evelayn and Tanvir burst out of the trees across the courtyard from them, sprinting to the castle.