Chapter 145: Unwelcod
Eastiel had put Cecilia to sleep. She had been boneless and exhausted on the bed. He’d cradled her limp body, helped her bathe and wash away the evidence of... everything, and even brushed her teeth for her when she’d mumbled she was too tired to do it herself.
It was a dream co true for him.
He was just settling onto the bed beside her, ready to wrap himself around her warmth, when a soft but insistent knock ca at his chamber door.
"My Lord," his aide’s voice filtered through, hushed. "It’s the Black Wolf King."
Eastiel blinked, irritation and surprise warring. So late?
No. On second thought, it made perfect sense. Arkai had almost certainly felt everything they’d just done through Sense Sharing. He’d likely waited for the connection to quiet, for the aftermath to settle, before reaching out.
"Bring it in."
The aide entered with the communication crystal, its surface already shimring. Eastiel accepted it, bracing for... he wasn’t sure. Lingering heat? A trace of jealousy? The awkwardness of a third party to their intimacy?
But Arkai’s voice, when it ca, was all business. Clean, crisp, and devoid of any personal emotion. He’d clearly locked that part of himself away in a deep freeze.
"Arzhen called on his mother, and she’s been acting too calm for comfort," the wolf stated without preamble.
"Huh," Eastiel grunted, his mind imdiately shifting gears. "You already know the bastard visited
just so ti ago, right? Making a scene about Cecilia."
"Yes. Did you see any hint of a larger plan? Anything beyond posturing?" Arkai’s voice was like gravel.
"No. He seed as personally confused and pissed off as you described him being up north. If your assessnt was accurate, that hasn’t changed." Eastiel frowned, the pleasant haze of the evening evaporating. "What do you think they’re cooking up?"
"My n report he’s been mingling with Temple personnel, but briefly. One visit, then straight back to his own residence. No prolonged strategy sessions, no visible alliances being forged." Arkai’s report was terse.
Eastiel glanced at his aide, who gave a confirming nod. The intelligence matched.
"Hmm," Eastiel sighed, running a hand through his mane. "I know the Delanivis have figured out it was
who attacked Dorian. But what’s that got to do with Arzhen? As far as I can see, it’s just them deciding whether or not to muster the courage to attack
back. A separate problem."
"I’ll leave tonight and bring Cecilia back north with . What do you think?" Arkai offered. "Remove her from the imdiate chessboard here."
"Yes," Eastiel agreed imdiately. "Thanks."
"No problem. I’ll get ready. Be careful, Eastiel."
"You too, Arkai."
"Brother," the wolf corrected.
Eastiel’s lips quirked. "Fine. Brother."
He was about to sever the connection when a sleepy voice piped up from the bed.
"Wait, don’t turn it off."
Cecilia was struggling to sit up, wincing as she moved her sore body. She managed to swing her legs over the side and shuffle to the nearby sofa, her movents stiff. Even with her legendary flexibility, accommodating a lion’s thoroughness was its own kind of athletic ordeal.
Eastiel felt a pang of regret. He should have taken the call outside. Now he’d woken her.
"Arkai," Cecilia said, her voice still husky with sleep. "Before you leave to co here, have your n find out about Ruby. Her location, and Arzhen’s. See if they overlap at any point. Then, have them report the mont they find anything."
Ruby. Of course.
Even with her ability to predict patterns, and the high likelihood the two had t, she couldn’t foresee the specifics of a conversation between a woman with foresight and a man fueled by whatever murky thing it was. Ruby’s presud ti travel thing created a blind spot too.
"For East..." she continued, turning her gaze to the lion. "Just focus on defense and gathering your strength. We’re waiting for the Delanivis to make their move, after all. Let them commit first."
"Of course," Eastiel said, grinning at her clear-headedness even now.
Arkai’s low chuckle ca through the crystal, approving. "I’ll do as you say. I’ll see you soon, Cece."
"See you soon, Unc—Your Majesty," Cecilia corrected herself with a sleepy smile.
"Ahem. Go to sleep," Arkai cleared his throat with a bit of embarrassnt.
"Yes."
The connection severed. The communication crystal in Eastiel’s hand cracked with a fine web of lines, then crumbled into a small pile of inert, glittering dust.
"Eastie, help ," Cecilia mumbled, leaning her full, sleepy weight against Eastiel’s side, a yawn stretching her words but her tone insistent.
"What? Tell ..." Eastiel said, already waving a hand at his patiently waiting aide to dismiss him. But Cecilia reached out and gently caught his wrist, stopping the gesture.
The half-beast lion aide froze in place, his face pointed firmly at the floor. What now? Must I witness this intimate, post-coital whimsy? I just want to leave!
"Buy strawberry yoghurt from the local market..." Cecilia answered, her voice murmuring drowsily.
Eastiel frowned, concern and helplessness softened his features. "But it’s late, baby. The markets are closed."
"Just find strawberry yoghurt," she whined, burrowing her face into his chest. "Ask around. Tell them a very, very important person is craving it right now... I really, really want it..."
The Lion King swallowed hard. His gaze flicked from his mortified aide to Cecilia’s face, then slowly, aningfully, lowered to her stomach. His large, warm hand ca to rest there, rubbing gently over the silk of her nightdress.
"Baby... is... is Elder Brother’s spell... is it still effective...?"
Cecilia’s eyes flew wide open, all sleepiness banished by the sheer hilarious weight of his assumption. Was this man seriously thinking she was...?
"I don’t know..." she said, letting her voice waver just so, expertly layering confusion over her craving. "I just... want strawberry yoghurt..."
She hid her mischievous little grin in the solid warmth of his chest.
Eastiel’s expression shifted from tender concern to one of solemn, urgent duty. He looked at his aide, his golden eyes wide. "Find strawberry yoghurt. Now. Go."
"Yes, sir!" the aide barked, snapping to attention.
He didn’t understand the undercurrents, but the look in his king’s eyes was a specific, panicked kind of horror he’d only seen once before, on his own brother’s face the day his wife’s pregnancy was confird.
It told him everything he needed to know. This was a mission of existential importance. He would turn the capital upside down.
Oh, joyful news! he thought wildly, already pivoting on his heel.
CLICK.
The mont the chamber door closed behind the aide, Cecilia let out a soft, muffled snicker against Eastiel’s skin.
"Baby, what...?" Eastiel pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You are not... pranking , are you?"
"What do you an?" Cecilia blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. Then she added, "Ah. That’s why you shouldn’t assu things."
"Oho," he breathed, a growl of mock outrage rumbling in his chest. "You dare prank
with this?" He clasped her waist, pulling her tightly against him, making her squeal with laughter.
"Mmmh, listen," she said, calming her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I want to speak with Angela’s people. Her network. They’re everywhere. If Ruby and Arzhen t, they’ll have the finer details."
Eastiel’s brow furrowed, the connection still eluding him. "How do we contact them? I’ll have my n make discreet inquiries—"
"You already did," Cecilia whispered, pecking his lips with a quick, smiling kiss. "Strawberry yoghurt. A craving from your estate. In the dead of night. That’s the code."
Eastiel’s mind exploded into a supernova. "Huh."
"They’ll likely co as soon as they make the connection. Probably a street vendor, a delivery person... soone innocuous. Please..." she yawned again, the adrenaline from her little joke fading. "...wake
up when they get here..."
"How did you even..." Eastiel was still reeling, caught between admiration for the won’s little syndicate and the lingering phantom heartbeat of his imaginary child.
"You’ll know them... they co in... different forms..." Her words slurred as sleep reclaid her, her body going limp once more in his arms.
Ah...
Won.
Won and their strawberry yoghurt.
Eastiel let out a long, shaky breath, his heart finally slowing down. He’d almost had a coronary thinking there was a tiny fertilized egg taking root inside her.
Well, whoever fertilized it, it’ll still be their child.
He carefully laid her back down on the bed, tucking the covers around her. He sat on the edge, watching her sleep, a wry smile finally touching his lips. She was a constant surprise.
Little did he know, the news that would arrive the next day... would be a surprise none of them could have predicted. Or welcod—
CRASH!
A broken flower vase.
Trembling hands.
Falling tears.
.
.
.
.
.
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