Warrick gestured toward the corridor in the opposite direction from which he’d come and gave a clipped order to Wesley to fetch the summons from the table in his study. As Warrick strode past, Nim managed to incline her head gently then turn to follow without glancing back at the watching crowd. They made their way to an empty sitting room, where he finally faced what was left of the group. “Maris, please see that Lady Margery is returned to the safety of her manor.” When she gave a quick nod, his attention shifted to Margery. “Lady Margery, your assistance is greatly appreciated, as always. You have my thanks as well as Inara’s, regardless of whether they realize how you’ve been of aid.”
Margery curtsied deeply. “Your lordship, it’s been my pleasure.” The tilt to her mouth said she only ever did what gave her pleasure, regardless of whether the court cared. Her dark eyes came to Nim’s, sparking with a secret smile. “Nimona. Until next time.”
Once they were gone and Nim and Warrick were finally alone, he turned to her with a solemn expression.
“What happened?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. It’s sorted now, and that’s what matters. We can discuss the rest later.” What he didn’t say was that there was something far more pressing he needed to do, which could not wait a moment longer. She narrowed her gaze at him, and the line of his mouth tightened. “Come along,” he told her. He snatched a small towel from a side table and passed it to her, nothing coming from him but lingering warmth from the magic and a too-vague intimation.
They exited the sitting room through an opposite door, and Warrick walked beside her at an entirely respectable distance as she dabbed water from her neck and jaw. It had been mere moments since the gathering had been released, but the corridors were lined only with guards, quiet of the earlier commotion and traffic. They passed through several doorways, another long corridor, and into a section of the castle Nim did not recall.
Warrick paused before the entrance to what appeared to be the central tower then gestured for her to go before him. She stared into the narrow passage as he took a torch from the wall and lit a flame with his magic. The light was strong and steady as they moved upward to an unknown destination that she only knew for certain Warrick was eager to reach. Something had happened with Rhen, unquestionably, and it made whatever they were about to do more pressing. It felt like a thousand steps through the winding stairwell, the air still and close with early summer heat, but his urgency was seeping into her emotions and driving her faster toward their destination.
The stairs ended at a small landing with a few crates stacked near a barred door and little else. Warrick’s mouth twitched at the look Nim gave him, but he walked past her to unbar the door. It opened to a shock of fresh air and a dark sky. He took her hand, tossed the towel aside, and led her to stand before a crenellated wall with him. She drew in a sharp breath.
They stood atop the tower, staring out over all of Inara. Warrick’s hand slipped from hers, and a familiar warmth swelled through her as the clouds parted and moonlight painted the stone of the castle and a sea of rooftops with its silvery glow. Beyond the walls, she could make out forests, and farther still, the shape of the mountains that bordered distant kingdoms. All around her were streets she’d known since she was a girl, familiar landmarks filled with memories both painful and sweet. It was Inara, her home. Silence wreathed her for a long moment, only the feel of the air on her skin and the view before her.
When Warrick finally spoke from beside her, his voice was soft. “No more waiting,” he said. “The magistrate will meet us before the hour is gone.”
His gaze roamed over her, his hand sliding across her waist as he shifted behind her. Nim finally understood why Maris had gone along with Margery’s idea for a gown that was less appropriate for royal gatherings than a formal event. Maris had known—Warrick must have told her to prepare. And whatever had passed between he and the king made their union more urgent.
“I’m certain I look like a drowned rat,” she said.
He leaned in to whisper against her ear. “Love”—his nose grazed her flesh and trailed lower. He paused to press a kiss to the delicate skin at the base of her neck—“you are ravishing.”
She had the feeling he was not speaking of her dress. As Warrick stood behind her, his breath teasing her flesh in a way that sent pleasant shivers over her, Nim was reminded of the first night he’d touched her there, the night she’d received her scars, and the way his lips had pressed so gently to her skin. It was when she’d decided that she would stay, right before he’d knocked her out and hauled her to the bed of a wagon.
What are you thinking? he seemed to wonder.
Nim smiled. “Would that I could send you my very thoughts and emotions.”
A chuckle rumbled through his chest where it pressed against her. “I’m not certain that would go well at all.” She turned to face him, the smile still tilting her lips. She felt small in his arms, safe. Nim knew that Warrick had only meant to protect her when he’d forced her to leave, to do whatever he could to keep her and Wesley from harm. It wasn’t his fault that she had fallen prey to his brother’s games.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me,” he said of her hidden thoughts.
She rose to her toes, brushing a light kiss over his lips. “I trust you,” she promised. “And I swear my honor to you, before crown and kingdom, between earth and sky, from this breath to my last.”
Warrick’s own breath stilled at the familiar words, a section of the marriage vows spoken by all in Inara. He stared down at her and let the breath go, opening to her in a way he never had before. A wave of sensation flowed over her, so intense she could barely process it. He let her experience his need for her, his adoration, the way he’d felt the first time he’d seen her and the first time they’d touched.
Her heart squeezed, and something unfurled within her, the constant yearning she felt to brush against magic reaching out to wrap about the power that swelled freely around her, the energy that was Warrick’s. He was giving her access to all of him, leaving himself bare to her. It was a promise of what their bond would be and that the moment he was able, he would keep nothing from her at all.
If only they could complete the ceremony.
A sound echoed from behind the tower door, cutting through the intimations from Warrick with a sudden spike of alarm. Nim’s mouth opened to ask what was wrong, but she knew. She could feel it from him.
No one should have known where they were.
Chapter 15
Wesley burst through the door, panting from what Nim could only assume was a frantic sprint up the ridiculously long stairwell. He fell to a stop at the sight of Warrick. “My lord,” he managed before wheezing, “fate’s sake.”
“What is it?” Warrick snapped, impatient but not unkind.
Wes pressed a hand to his chest as he drew a deeper, gasping breath. “King’s men intercepted the summons.”
Heat seared through Warrick, but he only nodded. “Thank you for alerting me. You are not to blame for giving it up.”
“I didn’t.” He drew the crumpled missive from his boot, finally settling into less ragged breaths. “Heard them coming from a corridor away.” However proud he might have been by the action, Wes’s expression remained disconsolate. “Magistrate is gone, though, called away on king’s business.”