After their dishes were cleared and the fire banked, the innkeepers, a husband and wife pair, showed them to the second floor up a short flight of switchback stairs. There were six guest rooms, three to each side of a long, narrow hallway of wood paneling. The wife was a stout woman with dark hair, soft brown eyes, and a face of freckles. She fretted over a cobweb clinging to the wall at the top of the steps, before leading Alori to the first door on the left.
"I wish we had somewhere grander to put you, Your Highness." She lowered her broomstick and made a show of bowing, as if suddenly realizing her erratic behavior wasn't appropriate. "Will you be needing me to help with your... underthings?"
The poor woman's face turned the color of a ripe tomato. Her husband looked down at his boots, grunted, and proceeded to coax Taelan to follow him to another room farther down the hall.
"That won't be necessary, ma'am, but thank you for offering." Alori fought a grin and stood back as the flustered innkeeper fiddled with a noisy key-ring. "I trust you and your husband have been well compensated for your trouble this evening?"
"Yes, Your Highness, and I thank you for your generosity but it's really no trouble at all. It's an honor, just meeting you. I'm Kait, by the way, and my husband's Nedd, though most call him Bulosi. That's our last name." She bowed again, rigidly, still fussing with her keys. The door was sticky but opened with a good push. "This is the only functional key to the room, so no one will be barging in on you." She handed the key separated from the ring to Alori and winked in the direction her husband had led Taelan. "Uninvited, that is."
Alori's neck sweltered. She turned into the shadows within the darkened room to hide her face. "Thank you, Mrs. Bulosi, I appreciate your discretion."
"Mum's the word, princess. You were never here... except for dinner, of course."
Alori detected a nervous undercurrent in the innkeeper's voice, although she tried to hide it behind a bright chuckle. It had to be stressful hosting royalty, and on such short notice. Alori made a mental note to have a care package of fine wines and cheeses sent to the inn in gratitude. It was the least she could do.
"A patroller is posted at the foot of the stairs. If you need anything, just holler down, or have your man come get us and someone will be right up."
Her man? Did Mrs. Bulosi mean Taelan?
Alori was the most powerful mage on Eala, but in that moment she felt helpless in the face of the innkeeper's hospitality. She hated to shut herself in her room without saying a proper goodnight to Taelan, but she knew how it would look if she went chasing after him. Mrs. Bulosi might have sworn herself to secrecy, but there were some things that simply weren't worth the risk.
"Thank you, Mrs. Bulosi, for everything you've done tonight. I truly appreciate it."
At a loss for anything else to say, Alori entered the room she'd been assigned and pressed the door shut, locking it behind her.
Was the innkeeper right, was Taelan her man now?
The blazing fire at the back of the small room afforded enough light to avoid collisions as she navigated the cramped space, so there was no need to search for an oil lamp or wall switch that might trigger an overhead magelight, although she'd have been surprised to find any enchantments here. The Ville-Tokki Inn was a respectable establishment, but it was a far cry from the opulence of the palace or Amethyst district in Ville-Saseum. It was unlikely that the Bulosis could afford to employ a mage to maintain household enchantments for the restaurant and a mere six boarding rooms. Not that Alori minded. The fog of alcohol-induced surreality suited her just fine for the time being.
Sleeping wasn't possible while her head was spinning, so she sat by the fire on a tufted bench that creaked with her weight. Tonight hadn't been the first time she'd had a few drinks, but it was the only time she'd imbibed with a man who wasn't family. It was also the first time she'd let the Shieldmaker take a backseat, so the woman starved for affection within her could enjoy the simple, unencumbered pleasures of normal courtship.
But if the aimless melancholy direction her thoughts were heading now was any indication, she might have overdone it.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her ennui. Her gait was wobbly as she crossed the carpeted floor and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. Taelan was standing in the hallway with his shirt-sleeves rolled up. He'd taken off his ascot, and the sides of his shirt gaped open at his breastbone.
His silhouette said his goal was seduction, but the look on his face was sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, were you about to lie down?"
Heylin's hope, couldn't he see that she was fully clothed? She still had on her gloves, for goddesses' sakes!
"I wanted to say goodnight and see that you were comfortably settled in." He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. A crease of concern formed on his brow the longer he looked at her. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine." She turned back toward the fire. The flames wavered in her vision behind a veil of unshed tears. What was wrong with her? "I've just been thinking about how odd the last few days have been. Not tonight– tonight was nice. It's everything else... I'm not complaining, or maybe I am. I don't know anymore, it's just–"
"Overwhelming?" His palm alighted on her shoulder. "You don't need to apologize, Alori. You shouldn't be expected to make such an important decision in a matter of days. It's preposterous, if you ask me."
Alori sniffled, swiping her hand beneath her eyes. She didn't want to ruin what had been a wonderful time with her ugly, morose thoughts, but if she didn't get this off her conscience now, would she ever?
"What if..." It burned each time she blinked. "What if I made a decision, and yet I can't help but wonder if I'll regret it?"
"What do you mean?" Taelan pulled his hand away. She could cry to hear the suspicion in his voice. "Should I go?"
"I don't know. I don't want you to, but–" she hesitated, squeezing the sides of her gown in her fists. How could she explain that she wanted his love, and feared it equally? "I don't want to be idolized. I want to be desired for who I am, not because you've benefitted from my family's protection."
There, she'd said it.
"Is that what you think?" He stepped in front of her, forcing her to either look up or study the exposed triangle of skin on his chest. His eyes were dark, like the moon in shadows. "You think I idolize you like some kind of deity?"
She shrugged. "Don't you?"
"Alori." Her name was soft on his lips– like a wish, or a prayer. Hearing it made her believe the worst, because how could he really, truly love her when they'd only just met? "I respect you and admire your magic, I would never claim not to. You are the Shieldmaker, but that's not all you are. You do so much else for the Ville-Realms, in your own name. If I idolized you it would mean I don't see you as human, and I've always known that deep down you were like me, like anyone. That's why..."
"Why what?!" She hadn't meant to snap at him. Her emotions were all scrambled.
"That's why I wrote all those songs. I wanted them to reach you, to help you, and music is the only thing I'm good at. It's the only way I know how to express myself."
"You just... want to help me?"
He grinned, tilting his head to the side. "Well, not just."
If his primary goal was to help her, then why had he involved her in such a ridiculous game? Why not tell her the truth right from the beginning?
There was a missing piece. He was still hiding something.
"It's a bit dark in here, isn't it?" She found the side table and switched on the hurricane lamp.
The room was more charming than she'd assumed when it was cast in long shadows from the fire. The walls were papered in a sweet floral motif above a chair-rail, and painted a warm taupe beneath. A painting of flowers in an iron vase hung over the fireplace in a gilded frame, a small clock on the mantle beneath it.
The bed was smaller than any she'd slept in before, but pleasant enough, covered with a patchwork quilt in shades of cream, red, and pink to match the wallpaper. Pivoting toward the other side of the room, she stilled. The bench she'd sat on was a piano bench, and against the wall behind it was an old upright piano. Miniature framed paintings reflected firelight off their oil canvases atop the lid. No doubt in this room the instrument served as decor, but it felt more like kismet.
"Will you play a song for me?" She turned over her shoulder, hoping he understood the anticipation on her face. "A lullaby would be enough."
Taelan padded across the room and ran his fingers along the piano's closed fallboard, lifting it to reveal the ivory keys underneath. He pulled the bench to the back of his knees and sat down, one foot on the pedals. Alori's chest tightened when he positioned his hands over the keys. Her feet carried her toward him as he hit the first note. Honoring her request, he played a variation on one of the famous nursery songs all children in the Ville-Realms heard at bedtime. She'd sung it a thousand times growing up.
The piano was out of tune, but his fingers floated across the keyboard with such skill and dexterity that it hardly mattered. In moments she was far away in a memory, back in the nursery at the palace, surrounded by her younger siblings' chubby limbs, their mother's warm arms encompassing them all. She could almost smell the spiced milk the nursemaid would give her whenever she woke up crying from another nightmare. Her mother's voice was an even more distant memory, but Alori liked to think she hadn't forgotten the delicate sound completely.
Taelan ended the lullaby with a soft whimsical flourish, too soon. She wished she'd asked him to play something longer, one of the songs he'd written, but she wouldn't insult his genius with such a request when the only piano at their disposal was in desperate need of maintenance.
"I hope that didn't offend you too much." He swung around the bench, his knees knocking into her. Air slipped between his lips in a soft hiss. She gazed down at him with misty eyes, while he blinked at the velvet belt encircling her waist.
"Thank you," Alori whispered. "I waited a long time for that."
He reached for her hand, pushing the bench under the piano with the sole of his boot as he stood up. "Not as long as I've been waiting for this," he said, brushing away her tears with his thumb.
"How long have you–?" The rest of her thought disappeared as he leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her cheek.
Alori had been kissed exactly once, on her fifteenth birthday by a flirtatious young lord with pretty red hair and flashing green eyes. She'd hated every moment of it, and had vowed never to kiss anyone again until she was confident they wouldn't cover her chin in drool. But with Taelan she didn't worry. If he was as passionate about kissing as he was about music, there was no way she'd be disappointed.
"You're really here," he whispered against her skin, "right in front of me."
"You're too humble." She stole the opportunity to satisfy a nagging curiosity, running her hands through his hair. It was even finer than she'd fantasized, slipping through her fingers like so many strands of silk. "But modesty suits you. Not everyone can be as obnoxious and overconfident as your blue-haired friend."
"When I saw you with Yuka in the gallery, I thought it was over before it started. You were so thoughtful and focused on whatever he was saying." His eyelids drooped as she grazed her fingernails along his scalp. She wasn't trying to lull him to sleep, but it felt too good to stop. He tilted his head, leaning into her touch. "I thought you were going to let him kiss you, standing there with everyone watching."
Alori's fingers stilled. Taelan thought she was going to kiss Yuka? What on Eala had given him that idea?
Oh...
In the gallery that day, she'd turned her head to argue with Yuka and he'd been right there, standing so close she'd been able to see the green striations in his hazel eyes. But Taelan had misinterpreted the situation. Alori didn't have feelings for Yuka. Not warm and fuzzy ones, anyway.
"When he came to my room afterward, I wanted to throttle him." His eyes were wide open, now, intent on her face. "But you saw right through him, didn't you?" He touched her waist, his palms light against her gown.
"Not quickly enough to avoid frustration." She stepped closer, twisting the loose sides of his shirt around her fingers. Her knuckles rested against his collarbone. "Did he tell you what we were talking about in the gallery?"
He grinned. "I might have dragged it out of him earlier, after I heard that you wanted to have dinner with me."
"Yuka said I'd be breaking all three of your hearts if I chose wrongly between you. What did he mean?" She raised her eyebrows, giving him her best imperious look. But commanding authority was a skill she'd yet to master.
"I'll tell you if you want, but I'd prefer you ask Yuka. That's his business, not mine." His pulse pounded, vibrating up through his skin.
She sighed, reluctantly letting him go. "Fine, as long as it isn't part of the game."
"It isn't." His fingers came under her chin, coaxing her to lift her gaze from the ground. "No more games, all right?"
Why did he make it sound like she was the one hiding something?
Alori could almost laugh, except for the way he was staring at her, his gray eyes pulling her into their orbit, until she was knocked off her axis, until all she could do was nod in acquiescence, her thoughts fuddled and dim.
He bent down and kissed her mouth, his lips gentle and velvet-soft, like a flower petal brushing her skin. Showers of tingles coursed through her, including places she was sure would deem her a wanton woman if anyone knew. He murmured something under his breath, drawing back slowly to trace her jawline with the pads of his thumbs.
Alori wondered if their expectations were aligned, if they wanted the same things from each other. As if in answer, Taelan's hands slipped under her hair, curving around her neck. He teased her with warm, grasping touches until she ached with longing. Then he kissed her again, more daring this time, as if he already knew what she liked and how to draw her out.
It was nothing like she expected or remembered from her first failed attempt at kissing a boy. Taelan was a grown man, not some awkward, coltish teenager. He knew what he was doing and Alori appreciated it, even if she didn't want to consider where he'd learned such things, and from whom. None of that mattered. He was with her now, the past was irrelevant.
A cacophony of notes rang out, startling them both. Taelan smiled against her mouth and reached a hand back to pull down the piano's fallboard, silencing the off-key noise with a dull thud. Loosened locks of golden hair slid off Alori's shoulder as cool fingertips traveled up her arm, her shoulder, her neck, angling her head backward.
Taelan kissed her throat, trailing upward to the shallow valley below her ear. His breathless whisper tickled her. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"You're the one who kissed me," she reminded him.
He drew away again, his eyes glowing with firelight. He lifted her by the waist, spinning her around until she was seated atop the fallboard, her legs spread to either side of his own, his hands on the curve of her hips.
"If we don't stop now, my lady..."
"That isn't my name."
He cocked his chin. His straight black eyebrows lowered, shadowing his eyes. "I'm trying to reason with you, Alori. You don't want to wake up tomorrow with regrets."
"I can decide that on my own." She leaned toward him for another kiss, but he turned his face aside.
"Neither of us is thinking straight. We're both sloshed."
Alori pouted, swatting at his hands. "Are you saying you don't want to kiss me anymore?"
"No." He squeezed her hips defiantly, holding her at a safe distance. "I want to kiss you, but not like this. Not while we're drunk."
She gave up trying to free herself from his grasp. Without magic, which she didn't want to use on him, the endeavor was futile. He was stronger than he looked, and it wasn't like she wanted him to stop touching her.
"You're being dramatic, it's only a kiss."
"Is it?" He watched her intently, his voice deepening.
Goddess but he was attractive when he talked like that.
What else did he expect?
But he was right. Despite everything she'd said, and her childish arguments to the contrary, she knew things would get out of hand if he stayed. Come morning, she might even regret it. On any other occasion she would have been mortified by her behavior, but something was different now and it wasn't just the wine. Being with Taelan was easy, like being with someone she'd known forever. When they were together it was as if a string inside her had come undone, loosening the veil she'd always worn to hide her true self from the world.
Which was why she asked, "Are you going to leave now?" instead of telling him to go.
Taelan lifted her off the piano and set her on the floor. "I think I should. We can talk more tomorrow, after our heads clear."
"Fine."
She frowned as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and pulled her into the sort of hug one might give a platonic companion returning from a weeklong holiday. How utterly dull and unromantic. She didn't know which she wanted more, to yank him back into her arms or throw pillow shams at him as he left.
He stopped at the door, eying the keyhole. "You should lock this after I leave."
"I wasn't born yesterday." Her hand formed a sloppy gesture, something between a wave and a negligent dismissal. "Well–?" She shot him a challenging glare, daring him to change his mind. "Goodnight, Taelan."
His confident smile was infuriating. "Goodnight, my lady."
Once he was gone she stumbled to the door, turned the key and tumbler, then made her way to the tiny washroom. If nothing else, his leaving had saved her the embarrassment of revealing her full bladder. All that prodding around her hips had been cruel torture, but not in the way he might have intended.
A few minutes later, after she was cleaned up as best she could manage on her own in her inebriated state, and stripped down to her underclothes, she climbed onto the bed. But she refused to slip beneath the blanket. Call it royal arrogance, but there was no way she was sleeping wrapped up in the sheets of a strange bed in a dusty country inn. Spoiled princess or not, she knew what sorts of things happened in rented rooms overnight.
The same things that hadn't happened to her.
Alori sighed, hunkering down beneath her cloak. How many more days until she would be home again, in her own bed? Taelan would be with her, then. However premature or reckless, her mind was made up. His infatuation might have been born out of misdirected admiration or subconscious hero worship, but it hadn't seemed like a lie when he told her he wanted to help her. And his tender, ardent kisses made it achingly clear that he desired her, as a man desires the company of a woman. Alori shared those feelings. She wanted to know everything about Taelan, inside and out, his worries and dreams, his hopes and fears, the way his skin pebbled underneath her fingertips when she ran her hands over his body.
If she set aside the brief, confusing interlude of the past forty-eight hours, few decisions in her life had been as easy as this one.
The pessimist within her arrived early and on high alert. Now that she was confident Taelan would make an attentive, loyal bard prince, the kind she'd always dreamed of, Alori worried that peril was just around the corner, waiting to sink its sharp claws into her. It was silly. There was no reason she should always expect the worst. Mendmaster Doari claimed it was a symptom of Alori's past traumas that she couldn't look into the future without catastrophizing, and she trusted the insight of the palace's foremost healer over almost anyone.
She was just being overly cautious, like always. There was nothing dark waiting for her in the shadows except her wicked imagination.
Alori turned onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. The room spun around her in the dwindling firelight, but now it was tolerable. The crackling flames were like the quiet laughter of a devious spirit lurking just outside the bounds of reality. But when she imagined Taelan lying across from her, holding her hand in the shadows, their faces close to keep out the darkness, the cackling lessened.
If only he hadn't left so soon.