Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Though it could never be soon enough. The rising of the evening star seemed an eternity away.
A call sounded from the knights ahead—not unexpected, as they were soon to halt and make camp. Yet Serjeant Iarthil frowned and nudged his horse forward.
Dara poked her head out the carriage window opposite Elina’s lounging pillows. She gasped. “He is here! The barbarian is here!”
He’d followed. Happiness surged through Elina’s limbs, more powerful than any tonic. She sat up—too quickly. Her head spun. By the time the dizziness faded, the carriage had drawn to a stop. Her attendants all tumbled out.
Out of necessity and a burning desire not to fall flat on her face, Elina gripped the supporting hands of her porters and slowly descended the steps. A small gawking crowd had formed between her and the pool, yet they parted at her approach.
Her every thought seized to a halt when she spotted the figure in the turquoise water, just beyond the clouds of mist floating at the base of the third waterfall. It was a large pool, wider across than an arrow could fly. Shallow at the edges before abruptly deepening into an underwater ravine, the change in depth was marked by a darker blue and a visible current. Warrick stood at the edge of that ravine, the crystalline surface of the pool lapping at his abdomen. Droplets of mist clung to his sunbronzed skin, glittering over every visible inch of thick, wet muscle.
“Dear gods,” breathed Nanny Char.
The corners of Serjeant Iarthil’s lips twitched. “I suggested he bathe. It seems he listened.”
Elina wished for a bath, too. Though hers would be in her tent.
But…why must it be?
Almost without thought, Elina began tugging the lacings at her waist. “Dara. Help me.”
The maid tore her gaze from Warrick. Her fingers flew over the fastenings of Elina’s robe.
The brocade dropped away. Instantly Elina’s breathing eased. “I left my crown in the carriage, serjeant.”
Chardryn belatedly realized Elina’s intention. “Your Highness, you will catch a chill—”
“I daresay the day is warm enough, Nanny Char. As is the water.” The gold underdress slithered down her legs. Dara held Elina’s hand to steady her as she stepped out of it, leaving her clad only in her sandals and a lightweight shift made of white silk.
The old nurse shook her head. “A chill is not the only danger, my queen. You cannot swim.”
“I will stay in the shallows with my betrothed husband.”
“But the snakes and river beasts—”
“What will they do? They cannot harm me with their fangs or stings.” Not while Elina wore her enchanted rings.
“What of—”
“Nurse Chardryn.” The steel in Elina’s voice sliced through the next protest. “I have not much time to live. So what little time I have left, I will seek what pleasures I can.”
The old nurse’s face softened. “Of course, my queen.”
Elina accepted the support of Serjeant Iarthil’s arm on her walk to the pool. Her heart pounded with every step, her gaze never leaving Warrick, who watched her come, his eyes narrowed against the sun. Water and muscle rippled when he lifted his arms to scrape a knife over his head, the gleaming blade cutting through thick tangles of hair.
Likely ridding himself of bloodsucking vermin—for which Elina was grateful. She did not wish to catch fleas and add itching to her daily list of pains.
She paused at the edge of the pool to remove her sandals. “I will be well on my own from here, Serjeant.”
Bowing his head, he retreated one step. Though he did not say it, Elina knew he would stand there until she returned.
Gingerly she waded in. The water sloshed around her ankles, then her calves, deliciously cool. Rounded pebbles welcomed her soft feet. She caught a wavering glimpse of her reflection and stifled the sudden need to burst into hysterical tears or hysterical giggles. Or both. Her hair was still lovely, tall and powdered, but the queen’s face had horribly melted. At least, melted everywhere that the mask hadn’t dried into cracked patches of paint. Thickened globs of gold sagged beneath her eyes, around her nose and mouth. And he’d seen her puke.
But he’d still followed.
That thought chased away her hysteria. Water splashed around her knees and thighs as she moved deeper, wetting her shift, making the silk cling to her legs. She forged forward, up to her hips, her waist. All the while Elina searched his eyes for even a hint of the joy that she’d seen before. His gaze remained narrowed. Watchful. Another swath of tangled hair fell from his head and was gently pulled toward the center of the pool by the current at the ravine’s edge.
The effort of wading through the water rendered her breathless when she finally stood before him, though the wonderful buoyancy made standing no effort at all. Water that was waist-deep to Warrick came up to the tips of Elina’s breasts, and she suspected the splashing had rendered the silk fully transparent. Yet she could not spare even a glance at herself. Not when Warrick stood before her and looking at him was such a sweet pleasure.