Snowstorm King by H. L. Macfarlane

Author:H. L. Macfarlane [Macfarlane, H. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macfarlane Lantern Publishing
Published: 2019-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Elina

“Okay?”

“That’s what I said.”

In truth Elina was terrified. She had no idea why she’d agreed to such a proposal, not least when Kilian was in such a state. But perhaps it was because of that that she agreed to lying in bed with him. He looked wretched. Defenceless.

Alone.

Not for the first time she felt fury rising in her throat that Kilian had thought it prudent to tell her to leave him alone for days. But she was angrier at herself, for listening to him. Elina had been so excited by the prospect of creating a new overcoat for her stupid, immature king that she’d only too eagerly taken the reprieve from being by his side in order to work and work and work on the garment, hidden away in the servant’s quarters until dark.

I won’t have a king to gift the damn thing to at this rate, Elina thought as Kilian poked his pale head above the covers, still shocked that she’d agreed to lie in bed with him. But she could see him shivering – could hear his teeth chattering – and so she knew there was no way the man would warm up enough on his own. It also meant…

Elina’s face flushed as she looked down at her clothes. She wouldn’t be much use to Kilian as a body warmer if she kept them all on. With a sigh she began to unlace her dress, slipping it off as Kilian watched with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Take that ragged overcoat off,” she ordered without looking at him.

“You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”

“Do you want to be warm or not?”

Kilian didn’t respond, his silence being all the compliance Elina needed. He squirmed and struggled beneath the covers, whilst Elina wondered if she needed to remove her undershirt, too.

Surely not, she thought, but when she caught a glimpse of Kilian’s expression – hungry despite the sickness that still lingered there – a brazen part of her lifted the shirt up and over her head before she could think better of it.

“Let down your hair, Elina.”

It hadn’t been the words she was expecting, in truth, now that she was standing naked in front of Kilian, the firelight casting her golden skin in a sunset glow. She fingered the braid wrapped around her head, somehow feeling far more nervous about letting down her hair than she was about being stark naked. But Kilian had practically seen her naked already – he hadn’t seen her hair down. Apart from her mother nobody had.

Slowly, carefully, she unravelled the braid, working her fingers through her hair to loosen the curls until a cascade of wavy, tawny hair came tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. She glanced at Kilian from beneath her lashes, feeling somewhat uncertain, but that feeling was forgotten when she saw the way he was looking at her.

“You – you are so beautiful.”

And though Daven had said the same thing, and though other people in Alder were beginning to make similar

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