Tales from Tiressia by Charissa Weaks

Author:Charissa Weaks [Weaks, Charissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ink House Books

Rattle the City

From City of Ruin

A Continuation of the Final Love Scene Between Raina and Alexus

1

ALEXUS

It’s early evening when we meet at the main courtyard for dinner with Fia.

We’ve scrubbed all proof of our journey away and have been groomed by the palace’s maidservants until we look like we haven’t been through any difficulty at all these last days.

The outside table—decorated with colorful glass lanterns and tall vases of red flowers—is set for eleven, with Fia residing at the head. She’s dressed in black tonight, regal and lovely.

On the side of the courtyard sit musicians with stringed instruments including a harp, each one playing their part in a quiet song. Raina sits beside me, smelling like a rose and dressed in red again, her neckline plunging to her bellybutton.

I lean over to whisper in her ear. “That dress might be the death of me. Who needs food? All I want is to take you back to our room and make love to you for the rest of the night.”

A soft blush touches her cheeks, something that might always make me swoon.

“We are guests,” she signs, keeping her gestures small and between us. “And so present we must be.”

And yet, she drags her hand beneath the table, from the top of my thigh to my knee and back up a little past halfway, sliding inward, teasing just the tip of my cock.

“Evil woman,” I whisper, and she just smiles.

I’m so glad to see that smile. These are not the easiest of times, and when she checked the waters earlier today, Vexx had arrived in the East, and she still couldn’t see Finn. Worry is eating at her, but I’m hoping that tonight provides a little distraction.

“A toast,” Fia says, standing at the head of the table with her glass raised in the air. “To the future,” she says. “May we be the shining lights who change the days to come.”

We clink our glasses of sparkling wine, and the dinner attendants begin passing platters of food around.

“Where’s Joran?” I ask Nephele who sits across from me. I point to the only empty place setting, the one beside her. Everyone else is here.

At my question, she chugs her wine.

“No idea, really. Maybe he wasn’t hungry.” She fidgets with the ruffle running down the front of her jade green dress, then her hand moves to a small ruby pendant hanging from her neck that I’ve never seen.

I sense a lie. I know her. Perhaps they had an argument.

“Well, I’m famished,” Rhonin says, plucking two bread rolls as the basket passes. Helena smiles, sitting close beside him.

“With all that moaning coming from your room earlier today,” Keth says, voice low so that Fia doesn’t hear, “I can imagine why.”

Zahira smacks at Keth’s hand, though she wears a smile, and Rhonin turns so many shades of red that I’m certain one of them matches Raina’s dress. Everyone seems happy, save for Nephele who looks nervous and on edge. I’m certain it has something to do with Joran.

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