Dragons and Princes - [COMPLETE]

15. Marquis and Faeana

Patreos walked her back to her suite, where their reserve lowered in the safety of her walls. He drew her for a hug and held her close to him for several moments before withdrawing, taking her hand with his. "You are determined to upset your father and I," he told Faeana. "Neither of us want you to have anything to do with the Keisere’s lies. He has something evil in mind, Faeana, and you refuse to see it."

"Patreos, you are going to have to be more open-minded." She was frustrated with him. Even her father had ceded arguing with her wishes. "I didn’t say I was going to give trust to them, but that does not mean I will not reach for any chance to stop the bloodshed. I intend to speak farther with Marquis when I have taken the throne."

Her friend cringed but nodded. "Try to sleep, you look exhausted. There is much ahead for you in the coming week."

"Good-night," she bid him.

He planted a kiss to Faeana’s forehead and left her to herself. When he was gone her shoulders drooped, and she leaned against the door to close it. Faeana leaned her head back when her breath rushed out and her tired reserve fell completely, and when it was gone, she found tears trekking her cheeks. She was frustrated and tired, and she felt so much older than she was. She didn’t know why she was crying, only that she hated it because it was weak. So Faeana steeled herself, shoving away her grief away when she took a deep breath and moved through her room. Soaking would ease her tension. She needed to relax before she would sleep, or she would not rest with the dreams of the horrors she had witnessed on the battlefield.

Marquis watched Patreos leave, and he watched Faeana’s reserve fall completely.

Tears . . .

She was utterly exhausted, and her grief lashed at him like a whip, stinging. He had to force his muscles to lock to keep from going to her and taking her into his arms to comfort her. Fenrir could not tolerate the suffering of women, it was not in their nature to allow a woman to cry alone.

Somehow, though, he suspected that even if he’d wanted to go to her, he would not have been able to. He was too awed by the complete drop of the shield that hid what she felt, and as he felt the bloom of warmth and storm within her, he remained still, watching. She took a slender object from the wall and touched the tip to the flame of the candle upon the stand near the door, where it lit. Carrying the slow-burning flame, Faeana walked around her chamber, lighting only one or two more candles before brushing aside the veil that hung from the high ceiling with gold leaves and vines sewn into its fine, translucent folds. She knelt and lit several more around a large, steaming pool where lotus and lily flowers floated, and reached her hand into the water, skimming the surface with her splayed fingers and creating ripples.

He heard a quiet scraping and froze as the war cat Fae climbed in through the windows nearest him, through the balcony. The great white and golden cat sniffed at Marquis and then ignored him with a heavy sigh. Purring, the cat walked up to Faeana, circling her and nudging her hand. Faeana rose and gripped Fae’s fur and whispered several loving reassurances more to herself than to her cat. "Everything is going to be okay," she breathed. "I will not rest until we are safe, until I never have to watch another Freyja or frey cat die in my arms. We will find a way to end this, Fae."

Faeana seemed so fragile, then, ready to break under the pressure as she spoke to her cat, voicing her secrets, her fears, her wishes.

Marquis was enthralled.

Fae nipped Faeana affectionately and then left, and just when he started to move, she began to sing quietly. The music drew him, moving him as powerfully as his red gaze could stop or control others. She was so utterly beautiful, the way the candlelight lit her golden, ethereal hair and danced on her silky skin as she undid the elegant braids in her hair.