She was here.
Keris forced himself to hold a measured stride as he walked through the streets, construction loud and raucous on all sides, his guard watchful for any threats, for there were still many who would not allow old grievances to die. People who clung to old ways and even older hatreds, and would not hesitate to put a knife in his back, prince consort to the Empress or no.
He’d married Zarrah soon after her coronation, both of them still bearing bruises and wounds from their fight with Petra, and there had been something fitting about that. Theirs was a star-crossed love, but they’d fought long and hard to change the alignment of those stars, and their scars were markers of that victory.
Zarrah was Valcotta’s Empress. The Imperial Army’s general. The rebellion’s heart. And now she was his wife.
Keris relished the feel of calling her so, and sick of propriety, he took two quick steps and jumped onto a barrel. Reaching up, he hauled himself onto the roof of the building.
“Your Highness!” Saam shouted. Then, when he was ignored, “Keris! Come back!”
He left Saam’s voice to chase him on the wind as he cut over the rooftops of the city, traveling routes he’d investigated many times before and arriving at the palace long before he would have if he’d taken the streets. Leaping the gap between a roof and the palace wall, he nodded at the wide-eyed guard watching him, then descended the steps two at a time to the courtyard below.
Zarrah, surrounded by an escort commanded by Daria, was handing off the reins of her horse to a groom. He drank in the sight of her. Her face still bore the marks from Petra’s claws, and likely always would, yet rather than diminishing her loveliness, they gave her a fierce beauty. She wore no armor, and the silk of her trousers and blouse clung to every curve, the leanness of the starvation
“I need to get back to the palace,” Dax said. “Her Grace holds to a schedule, and we are to be on a she’d endured in prison vanquished.
“That’s a big word, Dax,” Keris murmured. “You’re spending too much time with politicians.” For He watched the corner of her mouth curve up as she recognized the sound of his steps, though she didn’t turn. Allowed him to watch her right up to the moment he stood before her, bowing low.
“Imperial Majesty.”
Her dark eyes caught his, pulling him into their depths as she murmured, “Husband. I was under the impression that you weren’t supposed to be exerting that shoulder.”
Husband. Hearing her say it sent a flood of desire rushing through his veins, and he lifted her into his arms. “Tell anyone asking for her time that she will be busy for the next few hours,” he called over his shoulder at Daria.
Daria smirked and shouted, “A few hours? You’re a man after my own heart, Your Highness.”
But Keris was already walking, carrying his wife, his empress, into the palace. Bemused servants bowed low as they passed, and Zarrah said, “Your shoulder, Keris.”
“Is fine.” He climbed the stairs, heading down the hall to the royal chamber, the guards outside the door swinging them open at their approach. “No interruptions.”
As soon as the door shut, her legs were around him, her lips on his.
“I missed you,” she said between kisses, her fingers in his hair. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
There had been demands for her in Pyrinat as she established her control, her rule, just as there had been demands for him here, negotiating terms with Sarhina. But Keris didn’t want to think about any of that. “You’re here now.”
“Good,” Saam said. “Because it looks like the Empress has arrived.” Lifting a hand, he gestured to Laying her on the bed, he started on the buttons of her blouse, but there was no patience left in his soul, so Keris pulled. Tiny silver buttons rained across the bed, Zarrah laughing even as she made him promise to buy her a new wardrobe.
Though that was the last of their words.
Clothes fell to the floor, nothing left between them as he claimed her. As she claimed him. Over and over until they were both spent, darkness falling as the sun set outside their bedroom window while they lay tangled in each other’s arms.
“Things went well with Sarhina?” she murmured. “Because I heard a rumor that you two fight like alley cats, and that she claims you have forsaken your Maridrinian heritage with your Valcottan favoritism.”
but they’d fought long and hard to change the alignment of those stars, and their scars were markers of
“She’s not wrong. But we came to a mutually beneficial agreement.”
Zarrah gave him a lazy smile. “In our favor?”
“Of course.” Rolling onto one elbow, he eyed the chests in the corner, which contained his books that had been salvaged from the ruins. When she’d arrived a week ago, Sarhina had both Sara and books in tow. While he’d spent hours with his little sister, he’d yet to check the chests. Rising to his feet, he went over and opened one, digging through the contents while Zarrah examined
correspondence that had been left for him.
“This is a spy report from Harendell,” she said, holding up a page. “You should read it, given your part in the problem.”
A book in hand, he came back over to the bed and took the page from her. He skimmed the contents, his eyebrows furrowing at the mention of the troubles Lestara was causing the Harendellians in her exile and then rising in surprise at the spy’s speculation at the end in regard to the King’s bastard, James. “I expected a good many things from you, Ahnna Kertell,” he murmured. “But definitely not this. ”
Casting aside the report, Keris climbed back into bed, pulling his wife into his arms.
“There is so much to do,” she murmured. “So many things demanding our attention.”
“Do you want to go do them?” he asked, feeling a prick of pain in his heart that there was always something pulling them apart, despite knowing that they’d always find their way back together again.
“No. I don’t.” Zarrah kissed him deeply, then rolled onto her elbow to retrieve the book he’d Her dark eyes caught his, pulling him into their depths as she murmured, “Husband. I was under the abandoned on the side table. “I want you to read to me instead.”
his arms. “Tell anyone asking for her time that she will be busy for the next few hours,” he called over There had been demands for her in Pyrinat as she established her control, her rule, just as there had A book in hand, he came back over to the bed and took the page from her. He skimmed the contents,
“Do you want to go do them?” he asked, feeling a prick of pain in his heart that there was always something pulling them apart, despite knowing that they’d always find their way back together again.
“No. I don’t.” Zarrah kissed him deeply, then rolled onto her elbow to retrieve the book he’d abandoned on the side table. “I want you to read to me instead.”
Some stories require the sacrifice of a piece of your soul to see them to completion, each word written in blood, sweat, and tears. The romance between Keris and Zarrah is such a story, but given the journey I put them through, perhaps it’s only fair that I suffered alongside them as we fought to change the stars.