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Upon closer inspection, I saw the papers were records. Shelves and shelves of them.
Distracted, I murmured, “I thought you were in distress from the sounds, so I came to see if anything was wrong.”
The male’s shoulders relaxed. His grin was lopsided, charming, even. “This time of the year is always busy. I’m afraid I misplaced my original calculations for the harvest, so I’m trying to re-do them.” His face dropped. “But I beg you, do not tell the Kyzaire that.”
It was strange. There were some in the keep who didn’t seem to know the nature of the marriage between Azur and myself. Most knew it had been arranged. But some seemed to believe that there was respect or even affection in the relationship when they could not be further from the truth.
Another thing I found strange, which had never been more apparent to me than right then, staring at a records room full of parchment, was that there was a lack of tech utilized in daily life here.
Even in the Collis, I would never imagine keeping physical records. All records and accounting were done and stored through our Halo system. I knew that the Kylorr, at least the Kylorr of the Kaalium, were a wealthy people. The obvious wealth of my own husband and his family was apparent. I’d seen the nature of his space vessel—it was top-of-the-line luxurious. He even had a private docking bay on planet and a private high-speed transport tu
But the keep itself seemed to be run in the old tradition. The keepers cleaned, cooked, and did their chores by hand, forgoing the use of programmed tech. There were no automated systems within the rooms, like the washroom. The showers had to be switched on by hand. If I washed my hair, I had to roughly dry it with a cloth and finish in front of the fire, which I couldn’t turn on with a wave of my hand.
Beds needed to be made manually. Windows needed to be opened at the start of every morning. And there were no messaging systems in place to reach another being in a different section of the keep, if need be.
When was the last time I’d ever done our accounting by hand? I wondered, staring at the silver pen lying i
Stepping forward into the room, I said, “I can help you. I’m good with numbers. I did all our record keeping for—”
“That’s not necessary, Kylaira,” the male said quickly. “I can handle it. I’m sure you have too much to do to bother with these old records.”
“I’m quite bored, I assure you. I would love to help,” I said softly, giving him a small smile. Which died when I added, “If you don’t mind the company, that is.”
Numbers. I loved numbers—even when I’d hated them in co
I found that incredible. There was beauty in that. Unfathomable beauty and co
I was already stepping around the desk, peering down at the parchment, which I discovered were balance sheets.
Lore.
Another surprising discovery about the Kylorr was that they were responsible for the most sought-after commodity in the universe. During one particularly low harvest year, I’d heard a single leaf of lore had sold for 25,000 credits.
Lore was no blue salt, which could be harvested on many planets, that was for certain. But this seemed like a lot of work for just one being. And I had nothing better to do than roam the halls and tidy up the starwood vines out on the terrace, which I pla
Anything to distract me from Azur’s return tonight, I thought to myself, ru
Excitement rose in my breast just as I remembered something.
“Are you Maazin?” I wondered, looking up at the Kylorr male. The male who was in charge of the lore yield reports, who Azur had already reminded once about their completion.
He was studying me carefully, the twitch of his wings behind him the only indication he’d heard me. He was still frowning, looking down to the parchment over the desk, before up at me.
Suddenly, his shoulders relaxed again. He gave me a half smile and said, “Yes. Yes, I am. And I would delighted if you joined me here, Kylaira. Of course you can help, if you truly wish to.”
I smiled. Perhaps the first genuine smile I’d given someone since I’d left the Collis.
“Call me Gemma.”
“Gemma,” Maazin repeated, inclining his head in acknowledgment. He gestured to the stacks of parchment along the far wall. “Would you like to start there? I’ll finish these.”
Looking out the wide window, which had a partial view of a village below with a peak of the sea, I saw that the sun was sinking, casting brilliant rays across the sky.
Soon, night would arrive.
And so would Azur.
“Let’s get to work,” I said, turning back to Maazin, smiling.
Chapter 14
Gemma
Every single flicker of starlight made my heart stutter as I waited.
Though I’d been half tempted to return to Maazin’s office to continue sorting through the disorganized mess of papers and records, I had decided to venture to my rooms after di
Maybe it’s for the best, I thought, laughing softly to myself. Maybe I was more like my father than I thought.
A little after midnight, as the fire popped in the hearth, a loud thump came from outside my balcony window in my room, making me stand.
The doors burst inward, nearly shattering the lock, making me gasp in alarm.
Then suddenly…Azur was there.
And when those red, molten orbs found mine? They were feral. Angry.
My first instinct was to run.
At first, I actually did.
There was a ferocity, a wildness in his usual expressionless, cold face that made me want to flee like prey. I made to run for the door that led out into the hallway, my heart sparking to life, throbbing with every dizzying pump of my blood.
It didn’t make sense, this reaction. I’d expected his bite. I’d known he would come for me tonight. His threat had been tinged in promise when he’d left the keep yesterday morning.
When my hand found the brassy, solid, globular handle, I had just twisted it, had just managed to crack it open when his body crashed into mine.
I let out a wild, desperate little cry as he flipped me, caging me in with his body as he pressed me back into the door. His wings shielded us. Trapped. I was trapped with nowhere to run.
“I hate this,” Azur hissed down at me. His voice was thick and guttural. Changed. “You think I want this, kyrana?”
My brows furrowed in confusion even as I struggled against him, bucking to try to get away.
He groaned, pressing his hips low, and I stilled when I felt the thickness of his cock, the shadowy outline of it pressed—I assumed painfully—against the vertical metal clasps of his pants.
“You think I want to crave your blood like this?” he growled. “I’ve thought of nothing else!”
He pounded the door behind me to emphasize his point, to release his frustration in a physical way, and I felt the impact vibrate down my spine. Disbelief went through me, meeting his eyes, the wine and his words making the room sway.