Sweetling: A Fantasy Monster Romance by S. E. Wendel

Author:S. E. Wendel [Wendel, S. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Allarion sat in his library, a late autumn storm blowing outside. Loose detritus clinked against the walls and windows, and the wind howled through the trees just beyond. All their activities had been housebound today, and even Bellarand had sought shelter inside—much to Molly’s chagrin.

He couldn’t help a grin remembering the ferocious argument as the unicorn went rooting around the kitchen looking for food as Molly tried to push him out the door. Allarion finally intervened when someone threatened to defecate on the clean kitchen floor and then someone else threatened to make horse jerky.

After dinner, Molly shooed him from the kitchen, and so Allarion wandered into the library. He hadn’t found anything overly productive to do yet, instead consumed by staring at the missive that had arrived yesterday from Dundúran. He almost wished it’d been delayed a day, for if the words were washed away with the day’s storm, he couldn’t be faulted for missing the message.

With the end of autumn fast approaching, it would soon be time to leave for Dundúran to attend the seasonal council meeting. As a landholder, Allarion was beholden to attend at least twice a year. He’d been dutiful, attending at every opportunity.

That had been before Molly, though. An excuse to be in Dundúran was an opportunity to search for a possible human wife. He also enjoyed the company of Lady Aislinn and her blacksmith-turned-lord husband.

Allarion hadn’t mentioned the message to Molly, nor their impending departure, for he wished neither to be so. The truth was, he didn’t want to leave the estate. Everything had been going so well, finally. Every day with her was a boon as she found new little ways to surprise and delight him. Each day revealed a new aspect of his azai he savored, and he could feel the bonds between them strengthening.

He couldn’t predict what a trip back to Dundúran might mean for their delicate courtship.

Allarion might have thought to forgo it altogether—he’d already attended his two council meetings this year—were it not for the underscored last line of Lady Aislinn’s letter.

Your presence is required, as requested by Princess Isolde Monaghan.

Even with the seriousness of the message, Allarion stalled. He’d given himself the day to come up with an excuse, but alas, had found none. He couldn’t deny, either, that his curiosity was piqued over what could be so important that the princess required him.

Still, upsetting the balance of his growing rapport with Molly wasn’t something he relished. His reluctance to cause anymore obstacles to their strengthening bond had led to his prevarication, yet he knew…he had to tell her. She’d asked for total honesty from him, and although fae never lied, omittance could still be a falsehood.

Slumping in his wingback chair, Allarion brooded on the letter. It sat on the desk, deceptively innocuous. He wanted to believe that such a trip away would mean nothing to their bond. He knew, rationally, that for the bond to have any hope of being truly set and strong, they would need to be away from the estate sometimes.

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