Dulcamara tittered behind her perfect fingers.
"I believe we'll need a scout to go around the bend," she said, gesturing to the far off curve in the road. "To see if there is water. I shall meet you there when you arrive." She jumps lightly on to the horse and spurs it ahead, and within seconds she's gone from sight, a trip that will surely take us ten minutes. Nephamael watches her go around the curve, and when she is lost from sight, he grabs my hand and pulls me to the side of the road. With a little giggle I duck there after him, and I don't react at all as he kisses me, hard.
He doesn't seem to know the meaning of lightness, to hint at an attraction to someone, not force unwanted kisses on them, but in truth, would I have accepted the hints? No, I would not.
It's been like this for two days. New human highways have forced us off the beaten path, Dulcamara's knowledge of the detours as well as the main road the only thing keeping us on track. She takes every opportunity to ride up ahead, or go for water individually or send us there while she rests, her reasons to leave us alone were innumerable, but she had one motive; if either of us felt our romance was her making, we might be indebted to her.
My feelings for Nephamael were mixed and many, often I cornered by possessiveness, he asked me nearly every hour 'was I still his?' Other times I was terribly in love with him, when he told a funny joke that had even Dulcamara laughing I felt warm to have such a funny companion. And least of all I felt panicked, like I was drowning in a sea of his love, and I couldn't get out, couldn't even scream for help.
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The Queen of the night court was possibly even more lovely than the Bright Lady herself. Her claret hair was in one thick braid, hanging over her left shoulder. Her large blue eyes took in everything at once, so unlike her sisters, who seemed to focus on you like you were the only thing that mattered.
My heart gave a lurch as I saw who stood next to her. Roiben's gray eyes were vacant of feeling, a fine sword at his hip, and he looked tense, like a dog preparing to fight.
"Nephamael, here you are again. What a lovely surprise," the lady said, her voice as clear and sweet as sugared water. Roiben didn't move at the sound of his enemy's name, I doubted he felt at all. I wanted to run up to him and embrace him, kiss his cheeks and assure him everything would be alright.
"And who is this with you?"
"Myrocia," Nephamael said, and at my name Roibens head swung over to us. He shut his eyes in that reflexive way he had when he was telling me of his sentence, what seemed an eternity ago. I'm sure he'd glimpsed Nephamael's arm around my waist, holding me close to him, and how I didn't look uneasy or not willing, and he couldn't take my betrayal. This wasn't missed by the Unseelie Queen, who looked back and forth between the two of us delightedly.
"Do you know this girl, Roiben?" she asked curiously, for the first time her eyes traveling to Nephamaels closeness to me.
"I knew her once," he said, and his voice was as blank as his eyes. The way he said once gave me the terrible feeling of double crossing. I was dead to him now. I wonder how many times he had dreamed of Talathain, Ethine and I coming to rescue him, with a contract from the Seelie Queen destroying the peace between courts. I wonder how many ways I'd crushed his heart by appearing here, in love with his enemy.
"How lovely," the Queen said, abandoning the subject as it lost her interest. "Come, Nephamael, we shall go to my private rooms to discuss your message." her eyes flicked to Roiben. "You may go to your room and sleep, if you wish, or you may stay here."
She swept away, Nephamael left after without a backward glance at me, they were trailed by a small slump of guards.
I took one step towards Roiben, paused. This was not the Roiben I knew, this Roiben was cold and in his eyes I'd hurt him the worst way he could be hurt. He watched me with something like a plea, and I abandoned my reservations and flung my arms around him, kissing his cheeks and lying my head against his shoulder, whispering,
"Roiben, I'm so sorry, I didn't—the Queen, she sent—."
He shushed me with soft noises like ea mother would use to comfort a child, and I saw a deep, deep, happiness in his eyes. And I felt simply . . . magical to be the one to bring that relief to him.
"Perhaps we should go to my room to talk, Myrocia," he said, softly, pushing me gently away.
"Why?" I asked, but then turned and saw. The sounds of the revel had died down to about half, but still it was a marginal change. Fey were whispering and pointing to the impassive knight and the woman who kissed him, and Roiben looked grim.
"Damn, they know now. . . ."
"Know what?" I asked. Roiben was so hard, so worn down, he knew everything about the court my people, and his, I reminded myself, hated.
"That you love me," he said tersely, but I suppose he saw my surprise and laughed. It was an eerie, haunted sound. "Like a brother, you fool. I've spent so long here I've forgotten there can be a true sort of love . . . Come."
And he pulled me through the whispering crowd.
