Page 17 of Shattered Magic
Anhara’s body wanted to return to its natural state, and if she tensed up, her sexual interactions would be painful, would heal, and then she would be wary with every subsequent encounter. He was not into trauma. He wanted her to come to him with enthusiasm and challenge in her eyes. Zeral wanted to see her sleepy in the morning as they went to sleep, outraged and charging into action when she woke in the evening.
The opener just wanted to be addressed as Opener when he arrived. It was a little antisocial but fine. It was assured that he could manage the spellwork required to manage opening an everborn.
Anhara would be handled with care. It was in the contract.
His mind felt the touch of hers on the dreamscape. Since the night they had first met, where he had seen the horrific experience she had been through, they had been bonded. It had been in his own best interest to make sure that she went through therapy and recovered from that evening. She had forbidden him from interfering in her life, as they had no connection aside from their time in the dreamscape. He was slowly crossing that divide, but he had to be careful. She had been betrayed frequently by those she trusted. He was not going to join that club.
He had waited for the slow caress in his mind that Anhara brought to him. Part of him was desperate to know where she had come from, but if her parents were gone, it would be difficult. For now, he had to be satisfied that his consort was perfect in all ways that mattered.
* * * *
Hari got up and stretched, feeling rested, and no more hot spots taunted her skin.
She was still wearing her shoes and felt horrible about being on the bed fully clothed.
She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. Gold, blue, and magenta were the colours that he favoured. She looked at her hair and shrugged. Well, she was one of his favourite colours.
Hari stood and stretched again. She saw a collection of sticky notes near a door and wandered over.
Anhara, we are having guests for dinner, so please wear the dress hanging in the bathroom. Take your time. Freshen up, and dinner will be at seven. Snacks will be served in the ballroom.
Each of the sticky notes had a few words, and she crouched to read the last. Her stomach rumbled, and she looked into the bathroom.
The dress hanging there was a soft gold. Hari guessed that it was cocktail-style. She examined it and then headed into the shower, where she became an instant fan of his shower heads. They hit every spot just with a little effort.
She turned off the heads and wrung out her hair before using the thick and fluffy towels to dry off.
Upon investigating, there was underwear to match the gold dress hanging in a bag behind it, complete with shoes. She brushed her hair and flipped it behind her then got dressed. Her stomach was rumbling, and she straightened her shoulders and grabbed her phone. She smiled and answered Livia’s text as she walked down the stairs. She said that she was fine, recovered, and probably going to be calling the governor’s mansion home. She wondered what that would do for her work schedule.
Livia replied that Stuben had been asked to come in for the next few weeks. Livia had heard that the governor had shown up, and she had guessed that Hari would be out of commission until the ball, at least. She was doing damage control like she always did.
Hari smiled. It was a bit of a relief to have friends that she could count on. Liv’s story ran parallel to Hari’s, and they had similar physical characteristics. Liv was married, but she hadn’t met her husband. It was a proxy thing. The situation was weird, but Hari couldn’t throw stones.
Curious, she passed the ballroom and followed the liveried staff to the kitchen. The scents and sounds made her smile. She tucked herself into a corner and watched.
Hari smiled as there was cursing and slamming, but courses were still prepped and set to hold until service was ready.
When her stomach roared, it quieted the kitchen. Hari blushed. “Sorry. I will just go and find the snacks. Have a great night, everybody.”
She left and headed to the ballroom. Zerul looked up when she walked into the opulent space, and he separated from his conversational partner to come to her. “Hello, Anhara. You look rested and stunning.”
“You have a comfortable bed, and I was alone in my dreams, so it was restful.” She smiled at him.
“You were not alone, but I am glad they were restful.” He kissed her knuckles.
“You mentioned snacks?” She tilted her head at him.
He led her to the covered dishes and flicked them open with his fingers. The covers rolled back on tracks and showed a delightful arrangement of hot treats in a variety of proteins. She got a tiny plate and heaped it high before nibbling.
“Come. I want you to meet someone, treasure.” He smiled and slid an arm around her.
“I am not letting go of my plate to shake hands,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “That’s fine. Your hands are not their concern.”
She walked with him and met the first set of people there for the cocktail hour. More people were arriving, and Anhara recognized a few who had frequented the club.
She met Prolen again, and he smiled at her. “I hear you have some friends who don’t have pending charges against them.”