A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 52: Seal

He nodded slowly, taking in that information. "It's still your decision," he said. "Whether you want that title in public or not is entirely up to you and I would never take that choice away. But the respect you deserve isn't a choice. If I can only ensure it amongst us for now, then I will. It's honorary."

She bent forward, resting on her elbows. "You should have told me," she said again. "It makes me wonder, even as my mate, how many things you would do behind my back."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry too." He matched her forward lean with a pointed, faint smile. "You have walls around you, as thick as bricks of ice some days. It's hard to know what you need from me when you keep them up."

Her brow raised indignantly. "Are you blaming me?"

"No, not at all. But you criticise me so I think it is fair to offer the same back." Her other brow raised to join the first. His smile widened and he patted the pockets of his tunic. "Seems I'm all out of them. Except for the fact that you smell like shit and need a bath."

Reaching across the counter, she swatted the fringe of his hair, earning her round of bright, beautiful laughter. Crossing around to his side, Galadriel promptly sat herself in his lap, draping her arms over his shoulders. "Now we both smell like shit."

"I take that as an invitation to bathe together." His hands set firmly on her hips, a smirk contrasting her pursed lips. His lips went to her neck, pressing ever so lightly. "Mor and Amren are busy and I don't expect them around today," he whispered into her skin. "If you're interested in learning about us Illyrians, we have a very particular custom to let off stress."

Galadriel angled her head, nose brushing against his silky hair, his face buried in the nook between her neck and jaw. "Hmm. Cassian might have mentioned it a few times." She let out a sharp yelp as his teeth dug into the soft skin. "Those muscles certainly are enticing."

Rhysand lurched from the stool and promptly plopped her on the countertop, hands flat against the marble on either side of her hips, tall as a mountain over her. "You don't need to get me jealous to give you what you want, my dear Galadriel."

Tipping her head, she pressed a butterfly-light kiss on his jaw. "But it's so much fun." Creating space between them, Galadriel cupped her hands. The crystal ball he'd gifted her for Winter Solstice appeared in her palms. "I need you to add some memories to it."

He glanced down at it. "Good ones, I hope."

"Ones I need to remember."

Nodding, he gestured for her to close her eyes. His palm cradled the side of her face, thumb stroking the end of her brow as he dove into her mind. Galadriel thought back to months ago. She thought about Rhys showing her around Velaris for the first time. It had taken her all by such surprise but when she asked why he bothered treating her with kindness, he said, "Why would I treat you with anything less." She thought of that first dinner she shared with his court in the House of Wind, how they laughed so freely that the world outside felt little compared to the one she was sitting amongst.

Galadriel opened her eyes, Rhysand's hand still on her face. The crystal had grown warm against her fingertips and the smoke inside had gone thick, absorbing weeks' worth of memory. Rhysand stared at her, so stoic that she had no inkling what was going on in his head. She sent the orb back to her room, on the black stand where it belonged on her vanity.

Silently, she slid from the countertop, Rhys shifting half a step back to let her.

"Toast is a little burnt," she muttered, waving her hand to send them from the toasting plate over the fire to the countertop. It took another minute for the eggs to cook through and once they were, she pulled them from the fire too, smothering the flames to signed, smoking wood.

Galadriel pulled two plates from the cupboard by her knees, setting them before her and cut each slice of toast lengthways. "It's not very romantic," she said, placing the egg between the slices. "But this is what you have every Sunday morning." The plate grated against the countertop as she served it before him.

He looked at her. Then at the breakfast. Then at her again. "You're serving me breakfast? Food?" It had honestly come as a surprise for them both. Galadriel hadn't known what she was going to do until she cracked the second egg in the pan.

Reaching to take the plate back, she asked, "Are you not hungry?" His hand snapped down, blocking hers. She smiled. "I was pissed at you, Rhys, but the only thing I could think of when I was at Windhaven, was how many hours until I came home again."

"If I had known that, I would have come sooner." He gave a choked laugh, bowing his head briefly. "I waited as long as I could thinking you weren't ready to come back. That I fucked this up."

"A little fuck up isn't enough to keep me from loving you."

"You love me?" The question seemed so hopeful, so desperate.

"I wouldn't be offering this if I didn't." His hand slowly left hers to reach for the sandwiched egg, but Galadriel swapped their places, grasping his wrist to stop him. She waited until he looked her dead in the eye. "Don't keep things from me. Make me that promise."

"I can make it a bargain."

"I prefer the trust. That you would choose to."

He smiled. She let his wrist go as he strode around the countertop until he was at her side. Fingers weaving through her the hair on either side of her face, he tilted her head up to look at him. "Is this what you chose? We could have a party. The grandest celebration Velaris has seen in many years. You'd be doused in presents by every city lord who wants your favour."

Galadriel kept her face straight. "Are you trying to tell me you're not happy with my sandwich? I'm not sure I want such an ungrateful mate."

He kissed the space between her brows. "You are trying to put me in a hole of guilt, aren't you?"

"Caught me."