Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) E.E. Everly (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖

Caedryn opened his arms, and I fell into them. He wrapped me tight against his shoulder. His hands stroked my hair. “Shh, Niawen. You’re not alone. Shh. And you’ll never be alone again.”

THIRTY-FIVE

I flexed my feet and stretched my body as I yawned. Someone had stoked the fire, and my room was fairly comfortable. I wanted to burrow into the blankets and never emerge.

I was in such hysterics that Caedryn had escorted me inside immediately and to a chamber that had been prepared for my arrival. I didn’t want to leave Seren, but she assured me she was fine and agreed I should recuperate.

Although a lady’s maid gave me a calming draught, and I drifted off to sleep without another snotty whimper, I couldn’t say I was well rested.

Nor could I remember what I’d lamented to Caedryn on the short trip to my room. He seemed kind enough because he didn’t scold me for my loss of control.

I’m so embarrassed. Kelyn had entered my life with as much blubbering, and I had done the same to Caedryn. Oh, the mortification! I cried in a stranger’s arms!

Seren stretched. I was still sleeping. A flight across the country is not as effortless as you might think.

I’m sorry, Seren.

I’m teasing. I’m well enough. A building was outfitted just for me. The floor was strewn with enough straw for a comfortable mattress. It smells a bit like horses. They’re in the adjacent stable.

We’ve jumped into this too soon. I’m not sure I can face Caedryn this morning. What did I say to him?

A rapping at the door paused my conversation.

“My lady?”

I sat up. “You may enter.”

A maid came in with fresh water and towels. “I’m Lowri, my lady. Would you like me to help you dress? The master has a selection of gowns for you. Breakfast awaits. You’ll be joining Lord Caedryn.”

“Lord?”

“Aye. The Lord of Rolant. He’s our gracious ruler.”

“You think he could have mentioned that he was a lord last night,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry, my lady. What?”

“Never mind.” I slipped from the bed. I had to face my humiliation. “Let’s get this over with.”

THIRTY-SIX

I was pleasantly surprised that the gown I wore was a thin, tapered style with a high waist, like gowns in Gorlassar. None of the thick, fluffy gowns the ladies in Sieffre’s realm paraded in. I smoothed the satiny lavender fabric at my waist as I entered the breakfast room—a quaint chamber on the citadel’s east side, where the morning sun shone through wavy-glass windows.

Lord Caedryn stood. “There you are. Looking recovered.” He bent at the waist in a slight bow, not taking his eyes from my face.

I extended my hand, thinking about how Arnall had kissed it and how shocked I’d been. How would Caedryn’s lips feel brushing my skin? Being around the mortals had me thinking such irrational thoughts. Until I’d peeked into Aneirin’s soul, leaning close enough to him to allow my childish hopes to run away with me, I hadn’t even thought about kissing.

Caedryn reached for my hand—his skin was the color inside a dead twig—light tan. Several shades darker than my creamy whiteness, but not brown like tree bark. I still couldn’t believe he was emrys. The sun colored his skin like the mortals’!

Caedryn paused, with his hand extended, never making contact. His face twitched alongside his mouth, as if he thought better than to touch me. After righting himself, he gestured to my chair. “Please, sit.”

I was certain the nobility in these realms kissed ladies’ hands. Every man who danced with me at the festival had done so, but I was too embarrassed from Caedryn’s lack of touch to react further than with a dismayed frown.

A servant helped me sit and pushed in my chair.

“I feel a thousand times better. Thank you.” The horror over the prior night broke my voice, so I fiddled with the napkin in my lap.

Caedryn busied himself, arranging the food on his plate while glancing over at me. “I imagine you have questions. I shall answer them in due course, but please, enjoy your breakfast.”

I nodded and picked up a knife to butter my bread. “You didn’t tell me you were Lord of Rolant.” I peeked at him from my downward focus.

“Didn’t I? I hate to throw titles around. Please, I’m just Caedryn to you.”

My cheeks colored. Caedryn politely continued with his meal, yet he smiled as if some secret amused him. I forced back the grin playing at my lips as I watched him. His smile was the one attribute that lent his features softness. Caedryn’s hair hung loose in layers past his shoulders. His tame locks hinted at the inflexibility of the man, but I imagined them blowing roughly in the wind, making him formidable but with an inner determination. His broad forehead, straight brows, and narrow nose inspired a severeness to his expression. Everything was sharp about his face, and his high cheekbones emphasized the fact.

Which made me think of my father, and I dropped the bread I was buttering.

“I hope you haven’t lost your appetite already.” Caedryn’s eyes found me, but he didn’t lift his head in my direction.

He was so subtle, so cheeky, that I pressed my lips into a tight line. Though he was being funny on purpose, his extreme reserved behavior, limited conversation, and careful calculations of my every move made me uncomfortable. I decided to get to the point of this peculiar stranger, so I dove with my light.

Coyness mixed with daring. Curiosity. A bit of pride. Self-assurance.

“You’ll have to tell me if you like what you see,” he said.

I gasped and fumbled with my fork as it clattered