It shouldn’t have bothered me. He’d seen nearly all of me already, thanks to my habit of answering doors in various states of undress. But something about the recent secrets we’d shared made these interactions between us now feel dangerously intimate.
Luther always seemed to have the upper hand, some higher ground from which to toss me off my resolve to dislike him. For once, I wanted him to be the one squirming under my stare and questioning everything he thought he knew about me.
I lounged back against the divan and crossed my legs so the fabric of my dress slid even further, baring my thigh where it curved up into my hip. I arched my back and raised my chin in a silent dare.
Luther’s pupils dilated as he watched me, a predator on the hunt. I could see him fighting against his desire to take another look—or perhaps do more than look.
I was playing with fire, but the thrill of the game had me in its claws. Luther drew me in in a way I’d never experienced with anyone else. Fighting with him, teasing him—it was like lighting a fuse and closing my eyes, never knowing just how close I was to destruction.
Knowing he was watching me, I allowed my eyes to wander. I gazed far longer than appropriate at the sharp rise of his cheekbones, the swell of his lips, the square angle of his jaw. I took in the taut stretch of fabric in all the places where his body showed its power—his wide shoulders, his muscled limbs. I studied the large, strong hands resting on his knees—hands that had held me against him, hands that had explored my hips and thighs.
I wondered if he remembered those moments at inopportune times like I did. If they turned his mouth dry and set his heart racing like they were currently doing to mine.
To his credit, he didn’t wither an inch. He remained preternaturally still. Even his breathing seemed to lie in wait. His only reaction was the spark of a question in his eyes, daring me to give my assessment.
Though I’d made a habit of mentally reciting all the reasons I was supposed to hate Luther whenever I was in his presence, the events of yesterday had me questioning each one. As I scrutinized him now, I came to a sudden, alarming realization.
I didn’t hate Luther. Against my better judgment, I had begun to genuinely trust him. I was even—Everflame forgive me—enjoying his company. I liked the way he unsettled me, the way he challenged me. I liked that he was a riddle I couldn’t quite solve.
I liked… him.
Oh, gods. I liked him.
Instantly, I needed distance. I shot to my feet and across to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the room, their alcoves packed with rows of colorful spines. I trailed a finger along their edges as I strolled away.
“I have enough people in my life who tried to protect me by keeping things from me, Luther. I have no need for any more of them. Especially now.”
His intense aura of power infused the air as he rose and fell into step behind me. When he was this close, his magic felt like a tangible thing, caressing me like fingers against my skin.
“Understood, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and he met my gaze. Chin down, eyebrows up.
Deference. An unspoken apology.
I slowed my pace until he caught up to my side.
Acceptance. An unspoken forgiveness.
“Who will attend these House Receptions?” I asked.
“The heads of each House and the Crown Council. Until you appoint your own advisors, King Ulther’s Council will sit in its place to send a message that your reign will be consistent with his.”
I held back a retort. It certainly would not be consistent—not if I could help it.
“And you’re on the Council?”
Luther nodded. “Along with my father and my uncle, Garath, as well as his sons, Aemonn and Taran.”
I scowled. “Does Garath have to be there?”
“He’s unpleasant, but he is helpful. He knows the other Houses better than anyone.”
“Fine, I suppose. What about Aemonn, why keep him around?”
“I ask myself that every day.”
I stopped still. “Luther Corbois, did you just make a joke?”
“It’s been known to happen on occasion.” His hand slid to my back to nudge me forward and lingered there as I resumed my pace.
“What about Taran, why is he there?”
“Mostly to keep me from killing Aemonn.”
“Luther,” I gasped. “Two jokes in one day! You’re going to need a nap to recover from this excitement.”
He smiled at me—a new smile, this one warm and humble, but also a little bit triumphant. I was so surprised at the casual sweetness of it that I nearly stumbled.
I tried to look annoyed, though my own smile was peeking through. “How curious that King Ulther couldn’t scrounge up a single woman in all of Lumnos to advise him.”
“Lily would have joined the Council when she came of age, but you’re right. The King was very… traditional.”
“Well, I am not. And I want Eleanor on my Council and present for the House Receptions.”
“Eleanor doesn’t have a title or a formal role.”
“On the contrary. I made her my first advisor, so she’s the only person with a formal role.” I smirked. “The rest of you have yet to earn my favor.”
He nodded gravely, though his eyes kept their amused gleam. “Noted. I’ll ensure she’s invited.”
We walked for a few paces in silence. His hand finally dropped away from my back, though it paused as it fell, twining in the gossamer fabric of my skirts. He stared at it, a slight wrinkle between his brows.
“You dislike my dress?” I asked, feigning offense.
“Not at all. You look…” His eyes slowly lifted to mine. Muscles strained along his throat.
“Let me guess,” I teased, trying to ignore the warmth rushing to my face. “You preferred when I wore nothing but a towel?”
His expression heated, and the flush in my cheeks plummeted straight down to my belly.
I laughed nervously and looked away. “Or maybe you prefer me in muddy pants and a borrowed tunic.”
“Only when it’s mine.”
The warmth drifted… lower.
My thighs squeezed together, and I’d never been more thankful for the shield of loose, flowy skirts. “Eleanor brought me some simpler clothing,” I said, shrugging with a feigned calm I did not at all feel, “but she suggested I give this a try, so I’m taking her counsel.”
“You really made her your advisor?” he asked.
“First you object to my dress, now my choice of advisor?”
He glared affectionately. “I approve of your dress and your advisor. Eleanor is extremely clever, far more than our family gives her credit for. I only meant…” He paused. “If you are open to advisors that are less traditional, may I make a suggestion?”
“I already considered asking Sorae, but I’m afraid a gryvern won’t fit in the meeting room. And I suspect she’ll eat Garath on sight.”
Luther did his best to look exasperated. “I meant Alixe. She’s brilliant at military strategy, and she’s as well respected with the army in Fortos as she is among the Royal Guard here in Lumnos. Should any kind of armed conflict arise, she would be a valuable asset.”