Prince's Poison (The Aermian Feuds Book 7) Page 5

  Tehl eyed Sage over the rim of his goblet of wine. She pushed her food around her plate, her expression looking paler than usual.

  “Not to your liking?” he asked.

  His wife’s nose wrinkled, and she shook her head, but stayed silent. Tehl’s brows rose as he took a sip of his drink. How unusual. Living with Sage had taught him a few things. She rarely was able to keep her thoughts to herself. She wasn’t a chatterbox like his brother, but she wasn’t antisocial either. Whatever was bothering her must be grave, indeed.

  Tehl set his wine glass down and stood, his chair scraping against the worn, wooden floor. He retrieved a few pieces of wood from the pile near the hearth and knelt to stoke the fire. He longed for full summer. The chilly spring was holding on.

  “Really?” Sage muttered behind him. “Isn’t it hot enough?”

  Tehl frowned at the flames and stood slowly. His wife had been complaining about being cold only an hour ago.

  Maybe it’s her moon-time.

  He grimaced. She was a beast during that time, but he found if he left her treats, salves for the pain, and let her sleep plenty, she was more amenable. Tehl turned around and moved back to the square table set in the middle of the room and sat in his usual black chair. He leaned back and laced his fingers across his chest and studied Sage. Her emerald eyes glanced his way and narrowed.

  “What?” she hissed.

  Definitely the moon-time.

  “How bad is the bleeding?” he asked frankly.

  Sage blanched and recoiled from him, her cheeks turning pink. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t know why you’re always so shy about these things,” he commented. “We have shared our bodies with each other. I have literally been part of you. Why all the embarrassment? It’s just nature.”

  “It’s not talked about openly,” she groaned, wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand.

  Tehl grinned. “When have you ever cared what society deems to be appropriate? I believe you hiked up your skirt at a royal ball and proceeded to show off all your scars to the men in my court.”

  His wife smiled sheepishly at him. “Sometimes, I surprise myself with my own antics.” Her smile melted, and she kept her hand on her forehead.

  “Are you ill?” he questioned, eyeing her sweaty forehead.

  “No.” She grimaced. “And yes.”

  Tehl scowled. He hated vague answers. They explained nothing. Did it have something to do with the grave news they’d received from Scythia?

  “Are you worried about Blaise?” he asked softly. Sage was a warrior, but she had a bleeding heart. “She won’t let something like a coup take her down. Plus, Rafe and Blair are by her side. Nothing is getting past the two of them.”

  Sage dropped her hand and sighed. “I worry for her, it’s true. I hate that she’s so alone.”

  “She’s not alone. She’s surrounded by thousands of people.”

  Sage rolled her eyes and clasped the back of her neck with her right hand. “I didn’t mean it literally. I meant that she doesn’t have the close female friends and support that she had here.” Her eyes glassed over. “I wish she was closer so I could check on her.”

  “I know you are worried for her, love,” he said gently, reaching his hand out to her. Sage laced their fingers together, and something in his chest loosened. “But she’ll be all right. This sort of change will take time. If you need to see her, she’s only a boat ride away.”

  Sage’s face turned greener. He frowned. What the devil?

  His eyes narrowed, and he pointed a finger at her. “You are ill! I’m calling for Mira.” He stood and went to untangle their hands.

  “I’m with child!”

  Tehl froze, and he stared down at Sage. The room wavered, and he shook his head. He couldn’t have heard her words correctly. “What?”

  Sage squeezed his hand and gave him a weak smile. “I already confirmed it with Mira. I am carrying your heir, my love.”

  A babe.

  Joy erupted in his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Say it again.”

  Sage’s eyes glimmered, and her smile grew. “We’re going to have a child.”

  He tugged her from her chair and pulled her into his arms. A family was all he’d ever wanted. Sage had given that to him. Tehl lifted her from the seat and spun her in a circle. “A wee one!”

  “Put me down or I’ll puke!”

  He pushed his dishes aside and set his wife on the edge of the table. Carefully, he pushed her hair from her face and cupped her cheeks.

  Sage searched his face. “Are you sure this is what you want? It’s very soon.”

  Leaning down, he pressed a feathery kiss on her lips before pulling away with a smile. “I want it all with you. This is just another gift you’ve given me that I can’t ever earn.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over. Tehl gently wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. “Is this why you’ve been so emotional?”

  “Mira says yes. She also thinks it increases my nightmares.” Sage gave a watery laugh. “And here I thought it was stress that kept my moon-time away.”

  A wolfish smile tugged at his lips. “All this time it was my babe growing inside you.”

  “It’s going to be like that, is it?” Sage arched a brow. “I can see the pride in you already. Congratulations, Papa.”

  Papa.

  His eyes stung and a lump formed in this throat. “Are you ready to be a mum?”

  “I’m scared,” she whispered, licking her lips. “I’m not sure how to be a mother.”

  “I know you’re going to be a wonderful mum. Look at how you care for everyone around you.”

  “You really think so?” she cried.

  “I know so.”

  Tehl released her and reached for the hem of her tunic. He pulled it up until her belly was exposed. It was hard to believe that his child was growing inside there.

  “There’s nothing to see yet,” Sage said wryly.

  “I know,” he murmured.

  Tehl ran a knuckle gently along her stomach and then placed both his hands on her hips. He knelt so he was eye-level with her navel and pressed a kiss just below her bellybutton. Sage caught her breath, and he peered up at his wife, who had tears running down her face. She was a beautiful disaster. A miracle.

  Leaning his cheek against her belly, Tehl wrapped his arms around his wife.

  “Do you think the babe can hear me?” he mused. He didn’t know much about babies. How many books did the library have on such a thing? Did Mira have a journal on births? Would she give it to him?

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “Welcome, precious one,” Tehl whispered against Sage’s skin. “Your papa can’t wait to meet you.”

  Chapter 8

  Gav

  Two weeks later

  Mira could really hold a grudge.

  He shuffled into the infirmary, his bad leg aching as it always did—but his limp was getting less pronounced, so that was something. His daughter darted around him.

  The healer in question didn’t look his way as he took his customary seat in the rocking chair. Isa crashed headlong into Mira’s legs, hugging her red skirts. Gav watched as the healer put down what she was working on and knelt to hug his daughter. She pushed back some of Isa’s wild curls and chatted softly with her.

  At least Mira’s silent treatment didn’t extend to Isa. If anything, the two had grown closer. Since his injury, Isa had spent as much time as she could in the infirmary with him. The healer never batted an eye and had welcomed Gav’s daughter as her own family. Mira had a kind heart, even when it didn’t extend to him. That hurt him more than it should have.

  He glanced toward the fire and scowled.

  Every time he opened his mouth, he seemed to offend her. He never used to be that way. These days, he was worse than Tehl—and that was saying something. His cousin said things because he was truly ignorant of others’ feelings. Gav, however, said things that hurt despite the f
act that he knew better.

  His attention moved back to Isa, who was now standing on a chair by Mira’s side, her little fingers crushing dried lavender petals.

  “Very good, Isa,” Mira praised softly. She smiled at Isa, her profile facing Gav.

  His chest tightened, and he found himself mesmerized by the dimple in Mira’s left cheek that he’d never noticed. His gaze followed the graceful column of her neck and paused at the bared skin of her shoulder. The collar had slipped down slightly, revealing a patch of creamy skin. Gav’s mouth watered. What would she taste like?

  What the…

  Gav flinched when she shrugged the sleeve back into place and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He stared hard at his boots. Where in the bloody hell had that thought come from? He swallowed and pulled at the laces of his shirt, now hot under the collar. He wasn’t allowed to have thoughts like that about the prickly healer. She was his friend. He had no right to think about her that way. Mira was off limits.

  Is she really?

  He scowled and ran a hand over his face. What was wrong with him? Had he spent so much time in her presence that he was now lusting over his old friend? Maybe it was because he spent so much time with his cousins and their wives. They had happy marriages and he… Well, blast him. He envied them.

  Annoyed with his line of thought, he barked, “Are you about done? I can’t be here all day.” Immediately, he regretted his tone when Mira’s shoulders stiffened.

  “I will be with you as soon as I’m finished, my lord,” Mira said crisply.

  That was the other thing. She’d refused to use his name since their argument two weeks prior. She only addressed him by his formal titles now and never spoke a word more to him than she had to. Not only that, but she’d released him from her care that very evening. The funny thing was that he’d been clamoring to be able to go back to his own rooms and routine, but once Isa had gone to bed, it was much too quiet in his room. Plus, it didn’t smell right. He missed the scent of herbs and Mira’s soft humming as she tidied the infirmary before bed. They had become a comfort over the last few months—and this was why he kept returning.

  You liar.

  All in all, there was something very wrong with him, and it had nothing to do with his leg and everything to do with his mind and the blonde healer who was doing her best to pretend he didn’t exist. He’d only ever seen Mira as a childhood friend, but now…he saw her as a woman. A desirable woman.

  Get a hold of yourself.

  He observed as Mira helped Isa down from the chair and handed his daughter a mortar and pestle filled with a pinkish paste.

  “Take it to your papa,” Mira directed softly.

  Isa focused on taking careful steps until she reached him, only wobbling twice before she set the bowl of paste carefully on the round side table between the hearth and his chair.

  “Well done, love,” he commended.

  His daughter beamed. “Mira says it needs to stay there so it will heat up. Then it won’t be so shocking.”

  “Indeed,” he mused, eyeing the healer who made her way toward them with clean linens. Maybe she wasn’t so angry after all? Surely, if she was angry, she’d just slap the cold paste on him. Gavriel mentally rolled his eyes at himself. Mira was utmost professional. She wouldn’t do a poor job just because he’d upset her.

  Mira turned her back to arrange the linens. “Please undress from the waist down, my prince.”

  “With as many times as you’ve seen me undressed, I think we’re past formalities,” he commented wryly. “Also, how many linens to you think you’ve folded in the last few months? I swear every time I turn around you’re putting some away.”

  “Just part of the job, my lord.”

  Gav grimaced at her short answer. She still wasn’t happy with him.

  He stood, unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers down far enough before sitting down. Not that it was much of a wound now. It was an ugly scar, to be sure, and the muscles beneath it were knotted, but he was no longer worried that it would rip open.

  Mira faced him and arched a brow, before leaning closer to inspect his leg. “I am a royal healer, my lord. I should act like one.”

  “I want to be a healer, too!” Isa exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

  He reached out and gently tugged his daughter away from the flames. “Remember your surroundings.”

  “Sorry, Papa,” Isa said and then crowded in next to Mira. “That’s a big scar!”

  “It is,” he murmured.

  “Uncle Samuel says you can use it to impress all the ladies.” Isa looked up at him, confusion on her face. “But wouldn’t you have to pull your pants down?”

  Gav blinked and then scowled. His damned cousin. “I don’t plan on showing my scars off to anyone.”

  “Isa?” Mira interrupted. “Would you hand me the paste?”

  “Yep!” Isa snatched the paste off the table and held it out to Mira.

  “Thank you.”

  He twitched at the healer’s touch and sighed when she smoothed the heated paste across his aching leg. The pain receded, and it was as if the warmth was seeping into his bones. His eyes closed, and he rested his head back against the rocking chair. “Where were you hiding the good stuff, then? Why not break this out months ago? It’s fantastic.”

  Mira snorted. “Be thankful you get any at all. Blood paid for this.”

  Gav opened his eyes and peered down at the top of the healer’s blonde head. He studied the pink paste. It could be… “Does it perhaps come from the sea?” he ventured.

  “It might.”

  That was interesting. Mira was dealing in illegal drugs. How surprising. “How did you get your hands on it?”

  She peeked up at him before placing linen strips over the paste. “I’m sure it doesn’t concern you.”

  That wasn’t the answer he wanted. Gav reached out and placed his hand on hers, halting her work. Her skin was so soft. “You’re being safe, right?”

  Mira stared at their hands, and then she pulled away slowly. “I am.”

  That was good enough for him. Mira was always honest with him.

  Isa plopped down on the floor and began braiding a few pieces of linen together. “Mira, are you a mama?”

  Gav froze as Mira stiffened and then pulled back to sit on her knees, giving Isa her full attention. He watched as the healer swallowed and then smiled at his daughter, no sign that the question struck a nerve.

  “I am not,” the healer answered. She gestured to the room. “As much as I would love being a mum, there are so many sick people who need help, so that’s what I’m doing. Maybe one day I will be a mother.”

  He eyed Mira. Her words were hopeful, but her tone was anything but. What was that about?

  “I don’t have a mama, and you don’t have a daughter.” Isa squinted at Mira and then scooted closer to her, taking her hand. “You could be my mum, if you wanted to.”

  He stiffened and he couldn’t draw in a breath.

  Isa had a mother.

  Gav’s pulse rushed into his ears. Could she not remember? How could she not remember?

  He sat numbly as Mira scooped his daughter into her lap and hugged her.

  “Isa, if I had a daughter, I would want her to be just like you, but you know we’re already family. That’s the best thing about friends. We can pick who we want to be our family. You can call me Auntie Mira, if you’d like?”

  Isa shook her head. “I have lots of aunties already. I want a mama like all the other children.”

  Gav snapped forward, the numbness burning away. “You already had a mum. You shouldn’t ask such questions!” His harsh words registered a moment too late to retract them.

  “Where is she?” Isa asked, her eyes filling with tears. “I want her right now! Where’s my mama?”

  Pain sliced through his heart, and he exhaled sharply. “She’s gone, love. I’m so sorry.”

  “Then I want Mira to be my mama!”

  “That’s not possib
le,” he bit out. He held his hands out to Isa, but she cuddled into Mira’s side. His jaw set, and he met the healer’s gaze squarely. “Give me my daughter.”

  “I’m not keeping her from you,” she replied calmly. “Isa, darling, I think your papa needs a hug.”

  Isa begrudgingly left Mira and hugged Gav’s side. He hugged her, trembling. Did she really think she didn’t have a mama? When had she started wanting a new one? Isa always seemed so happy with just him. Was he not enough? Was his daughter suffering because he hadn’t remarried?

  “Why don’t you take this to the apothecary room?” Mira asked Isa, holding out the paste.

  Isa pecked him on the cheek before taking the mortar and pestle from the healer. He stared after her as she entered the other room, the door swinging shut behind her, Jacob’s soft timbre barely audible.

  Gav turned his hard stare on Mira as she stood.

  “How dare—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” she cut in, her blue eyes icy. “You’re the one who lost your temper in this situation. That little girl meant no harm in her questions. That came from a pure place, yet your answers came from anger and hurt. Every little girl wants a mum.” Mira brushed her hands along the rough-spun cream apron. “Even with a wonderful father, I still wanted my mum from a young age. More questions like this will come. Prepare yourself so you don’t react like this again. It will drive you two apart.”

  “And you’re the expert in parenting? The single maiden?” he retorted.

  Mira flinched as if he’d slapped her.

  Nice going, you bloody idiot.

  “Mira, I’m sorry,” he blurted.

  She held a hand up and then moved around his chair. Gav’s eyes widened as she hugged him from the side, her braid tickling his chest. What was this? He was mean and then she hugged him? What trickery was afoot?

  “I know her question shocked you, which is why I haven’t ripped your head from your shoulders after you made the precious one cry, but you need to do better.” Mira pulled back, and he missed her arms wrapped around him. “It’s one thing for you to lash out at me, but quite another to hurt that girl.”