Warcry

enough, with naught between but starlight.
    “I should get the sweetfat,” she whispered.
    “No,” Heath shook his head. “Crawl beneath the covers. I’ll check the door.”
    Atira felt him move away, taking the warmth of his body from her skin. She shivered, more with wanting than anything else. She went to the bed and pulled back the covers.
    She wasn’t sure why or what that was. Heath would have her believe that it was the emotion between them that made the difference, but that was hard to believe. Bonding happened between special people. Atira couldn’t see how that could happen to her. And with a city-dweller?
    But as she waited on the bed, she acknowledged a truth. There was something special about Heath of Xy. From the moment he’d flashed that smile and offered sympathy for her broken leg, she’d wanted nothing more than . . .
    “You should cover up,” Heath said softly as he crawled into the bed next to her, and drew the covers over them. “I’d not have you take a chill.”
    “Warm me,” she whispered, and gasped as Heath moved over her, covering her with his warm, solid body. “No talk, Heath. Just . . . this.”
    “As you command,” Heath said, and claimed her mouth.

CHAPTER 22
     
    OTHUR PAUSED TO CATCH HIS BREATH AT THE top of the stairs before heading to the Queen’s chambers. He was certainly feeling the stairs this morning, but then it had been a rough time of late. He leaned against the rough stone of the wall and huffed. It didn’t help that he was carrying the Crystal Sword of Xy. He shifted the sash where it rubbed into his neck and ran his hand through his hair.
    It also didn’t help matters that he’d been up half the night with Anna planning a wedding. Flowers, dresses, food. The ladies of the court were all trying on gowns and demanding help from the staff even into the wee hours.
    Ah, it would be worth it. Lara wed under the laws of both lands, an heir in the nursery, and new hope for the kingdom. Xy had been isolated too long; it might hurt to stretch old muscles, but there was no alternative.
    Then there was Heath. Othur smiled with satisfaction. He was so proud of his boy.
    Heath had slipped into the role of Seneschal as easy as a duck slips into water. Heath had kept control of the Guard without a protest. Even if he didn’t know it, Othur knew that Heath had the skills to step into his shoes someday. His son was loyal to the House of Xy; to have him leave and live on the Plains would be a waste of his talents.
    Atira was a warrior of the Plains. A fine woman, Othur could see that. Strong and sensible, but he doubted that she would ever be content in Xy. Most of the Plains warriors had trouble adjusting to walls and restraints. She’d be no different. Othur sighed and shook his head.
    Well, they’d just see. One way or another, things had a way of working out for the best, given time.
    “Lord Othur?” One of the kitchen pages came running up the stairs and slid to a stop beside him, not even breathing hard. “Cook says she wants ya.”
    Othur put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Tell Cook you found me with the Queen, and that I’ll be down after the Justice. If it can’t wait, she should send someone to me with her questions.”
    “Aye, lord.” And the boy was off like the wind.
    Othur straightened his doublet and headed toward the Queen’s chambers. After this Justice and the wedding, once things had settled down after the birth, he’d promised himself a rest. Some long afternoons playing chess with friends, draining a few casks of ale, and long walks in the garden with Anna.
    He gave a nod to Ander and Yveni, standing guard at the doors, and walked into the chamber to find Lara seated by the fire, looking tired, disgruntled, and all together unhappy.
    “Walk,” Eln said to her, standing at her side. “It will help—”
    “I know that,” Lara snapped, then heaved a sigh. “But knowing and doing are two very different things. I guess I am paying the price for all the banalities I said to patients as a healer.”
    “Banality makes them no less true,” Eln said.
    “Walk, beloved,” Keir said as he helped Lara to stand. “Later, after this senel, we will rest and balance the elements within you.”
    Lara snorted as she leaned on his arm, one hand pressed to her belly. “I’m fairly sure that is how we got into this in the first place.”
    “It’s a Justice,” Othur reminded him. “Not a senel.”
    “Justice,” Keir corrected