AYLETH

She'd dragged herself to bed the night before somewhere between bored and despairing. She'd fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, which was a mercy. But then she kept waking having dreamed of Etan—always close, but she could never quite reach him, never touch him. And the more she tried, the more frightened he became and the further he drew from reach.

She woke in a cold sweat more than once—somehow still burning and aching inside—so when the maid woke her late as instructed, she still wasn't rested.

"We need to get you prepared for your ride with Sir Trystan," the maid said with a warm smile. Ayleth nodded and tried to return it, but honestly she'd have preferred to stay in bed and pull the quilt over her head.

How was she going to make it through the next twelve days? Eleven, she reminded herself. It was eleven now.

She felt a little better after she'd bathed, and the maid had done her hair. Her mother entered her chamber as they were dressing her in her riding habit. She stood back to give the servants room, but eyed Ayleth approvingly.

Ayleth stared at herself in the full-length mirror, smoothing down the sides of the dark blue waistcoat, trimmed in white—it nipped in at the waist nicely—and the divided skirts she'd insisted on meant she could ride astride, though her mother would likely try to talk her out of it.

"Beautiful, Ayleth. You are a treasure," her mother said.

Ayleth blinked again. Her mother supported her and encouraged her to learn and grow, but rarely complimented her outright, and this was twice in three days? "Thank you, mother," she said by rote, but her confusion showed on her face.

Her mother laughed. "Oh, dear, you are always so transparent, Ayleth. You'll need to work on being more coy. Otherwise, the men will tire of your company—a man needs mystery. A challenge. At least, the strong ones do."

"So far I don't seem to have had any trouble attracting their attention."

"It is true that when an entire herd of them shows interest, it tends to pique the ones that otherwise might have looked elsewhere. Perhaps you are right, dear. Go on as you are, for now. But if a man you have an eye towards seems to cool in his attentions, come speak to me. You need to understand how to reignite his interest."

"Yes, Mother."

The maids finished and Ayleth turned to face her mother who stood waiting expectantly. Ayleth looked at her, curious. "I'm to meet Lord Trystan for a ride this morning, Mother. Was there something you need from me first?"

Her mother tapped her lip, then shook her head. "You like Trystan?" she asked quietly.

Ayleth smiled genuinely. "He is a sweet soul, yet very strong. It is an interesting mix."

Her mother nodded. "His nation is… insignificant."

"And yet, they trade with all the other nations. I had thought, mother that our goal was to build as many relationships as we could—bring as many other nations into alliance as possible?"

"Yes, indeed."

Ayleth shrugged. "Then Andaluve seems a unique opportunity. Lines of communication and trade open with every major nation, and a personal interest for most rulers. Perhaps not a political power—but a strategic one."

Her mother tipped her head. "You have thought this through."

"Only to ensure I do not spend time with people who are not true options."

"You danced with the Heir of Summitras last night."

Ayleth pressed her lips together. "Lord Isolde was… very rude," she said. "Why do men insist on handling us so? Falek was on his way across the floor, but Lord Summit made it there first. He merely stepped in to vex Isolde, I think. We barely spoke."

"He did dance very well."

"Indeed." Ayleth pretended to find a piece of lint on her skirt.

"He had a similar power and grace to your Lion Lord," her mother added.

Ayleth looked at her and blinked. "My who? Oh! Of course. You might be right, Mother. I will ask him if we ever cross paths again—though, I hope we do not. Being in his arms was…" she shivered genuinely, but prayed her mother read the gesture as distaste. In truth she would have given half her Kingdom to be heading out for this ride with Etan rather than Trystan.

"Yes, yes," her mother said, but her eyes were distant, and the v of a frown showed between her brows again.

"Was there something else, Mother? I need to go to the stables."

"That's right. Lord Trystan."

"Yes."

Her mother approached slowly and took her hands, looking her up and down. "You will woo him simply by sitting atop a horse and smiling," she said softly.

Ayleth gave her mother an odd smile. "What is it, Mother? You're acting strangely. Are you okay? Did you have too much wine last night?"

Her mother shot her a look, then softened again. "I am simply watching my daughter become a woman and… enjoying it. Something has changed in you Ayleth, since your triumphant fight—well done, again, dear—or was there something else that happened that day? Or perhaps that night? I noticed it in you last night. As if you were… blooming."

Ayleth's mind immediately took her back to those incredible hours in the stable with Etan…

…as he kissed his way down the column of her neck, he shifted his weight to his knees and continued down. She'd tried to look up. "What—?"

But with wicked eyes alight, he'd latched onto her right nipple and sucked, and her head fell back. "Oh, Etan!"

He shushed her, and she bit down on her lip, writhing beneath him because she wanted more—more contact, more pressure, more of him.

He'd moved his beautiful mouth to the other side, laving that breast with his tongue and a noise broke from her throat. He'd hummed on her skin then, which made her gasp too.

Then he shifted to lay between her thighs, looming over her to kiss and whisper, to taste her and let her cling, as she slowly came undone. Tiny whimpers in her throat, gasps—her hand slapped on his neck when she reached for him as he kissed her breasts again. Then he'd lifted his head, his hair falling over his fierce eyes as he rolled his hips into her, letting his hardness press against her softness, and she cried out—

"Ayleth? Are you quite well?" her mother asked, a hint of humor in her tone.

"I-yes, of course, mother," Ayleth replied breathlessly. "I am simply distracted."

"By the ride with Lord Trystan?"

"Yes. Quite."

"Very good," her mother hummed and patted Ayleth's face. "I am glad to hear it."

"Mother," Ayleth asked as her mother turned towards the door. She stopped and twirled prettily to face Ayleth again.

"Yes?"

"The… quickening that you've mentioned."

"Yes?"

Ayleth swallowed. "Is it… can it happen… often?"

Her mother's lips twitched to a smile and she looked around, then nodded for the last maid to leave and waited for them to get out the door before she spoke in a low voice. "Has one of the men been at you, Ayleth? Lord Trystan perhaps?"

"No!" Ayleth whispered, horrified. "No! But your… whatever you did to me… that was very unfair mother. Making me yearn that way. I was forced to… find a way to… relieve the ache."

Her mother laughed outright then. "Oh dear, I am sorry daughter. It was rushed. Perhaps I was a little heavy handed."

"Very," Ayleth said, blushing. "Must it be so… insistent?"

Rolling her lips together, her mother took her hand and whispered a few words. At first Ayleth only felt the burning. Then that coil in her stomach started again, but it was different this time, spiraling from her belly, out to the rest of her body, then into that hand her mother held, as if she was drawing it out.

"May the fruits of your passion be rewarded—though only eaten when the time is right," her mother murmured and Ayleth took a deep breath.

The burning ceased, and the trill that was left behind was definitely manageable. "Thank you, mother," Ayleth said. "Though, you didn't take everything, did you mean to?"

Her mother's smile broadened. "I took all that was mine, daughter—you are blessed with a heart of passion. My work will help you find your true match, but I have removed any fuel from the fire. If you still… ache… that is you, Ayleth," she said.

"Oh. Well. Okay. Thank you, anyway." At least she could sit without wriggling now.

"You're welcome. Enjoy your ride," her mother said in a tone that suggested she wasn't really thinking about horses.