Allegiance Read Free Page B

embers of the fireplace. I nestled against him, secure in his arms, listening to the steady cadence of his voice as he described to me the raw beauty of Cokyri, the land in which he had been raised.
    Then London appeared, pulling Narian from me.
    â€œYou will keep away from Alera or you will deal with me,” he growled before locking his eyes upon mine. “We cannot control our hearts, Alera, but we must control our minds and bodies. You cannot marry him. It is best that you keep away from him, so that these feelings will disappear.” I stared at London, an ache in every fiber of my being, tears falling freely.
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    It was dark outside when I awoke, my slumber disturbed by sounds from the parlor, my pillow and cheeks damp. I contemplated the light filtering through my open door, then decided to investigate, slipping on my robe.
    The parlor had not changed much since my parents had lived here, and yet Steldor had made his mark. The cream brocade armchairs that my mother had favored were still grouped near the window that offered a view of the garden and, beyond that, of the Kilwin Forest that spread toward the Niñeyre Mountain Range to the north. The sofa, however, had been replaced by one of brown leather, reflective of Steldor’s tastes. The fireplace on the eastern wall that had always been bounded by bookshelves and fronted by a bench now also served as a backdrop for leather armchairs and a gaming table. The desk that my father had rarely used had been stocked with quills, ink, parchment and account books, a pair of armchairs and an elaborately carved sideboard added nearby. Tapestries continued to adorn the walls and cushion the floors, with oil lamps providing soft lighting. My touch seemed to be the only one missing from the room, and it felt odd to be absent thus from my own home.
    Steldor was placing a tray upon the low table that sat in front of the sofa when his eyes caught my movement.
    â€œFeeling better?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.
    I nodded, debating whether or not I should join him.
    â€œThen come—I have brought something for you to eat.”
    Despite his invitation, I stayed in place while he filled a second goblet for me. He glanced up and, noting my reluctance to approach, stepped toward the fireplace, where his coat, doublet and weapons lay on the hearth bench.
    â€œI promise to let you eat in peace,” he said with a chuckle, making a sweeping motion with his arm toward the meal he had brought.
    My cheeks bloomed, but I walked forward nonetheless, the smell of food irresistible. Steldor relaxed in an armchair with his goblet and jug of wine, and I sank onto the sofa to devour the meat, bread and fruit. When the hollow feeling in my stomach had at last receded, I glanced at my husband, whose bemused expression brought another blush to my cheeks.
    â€œDon’t let me stop you,” he said, as if realizing he was upsetting me. “I ate just as hungrily about an hour ago.”
    I took a few additional bites, albeit a bit more daintily, then put down my tableware.
    â€œHow long did I sleep?” I asked.
    â€œAt last I hear your sweet voice,” Steldor teased, his spirits obviously running high. He poured himself another glass of wine before returning to my question. “You’ve managed to dream away almost three hours.”
    I stared at him, surprised and appalled by the possibility that I had slept through my first duties as Queen of Hytanica.
    â€œAre the celebrations over then?”
    â€œYes, unless we wish to have a private celebration of our own.” He stood with a roguish grin and carried the wine toward me. “But don’t feel guilty. I suspect I enjoyed the revelry to a much greater extent than you would have.”
    Returning his own glass and the wine jug to the trayladen table, he picked up my goblet and handed it to me. I took a sip, aware that his eyes were upon me and unsure of his intentions. After an