Wiping the cookpot, she set it on the granite shelf next to the hearth to dry in the heat now radiating comfortably from the bluish gray soapstone, and crossed to the table. A scrub of her hands got them dry enough to shut off the device. The ex-prince—who had briefly wrinkled his nose at the thought of scrubbing dishes like a servant, but otherwise hadn’t protested—glanced over his shoulder in time to see her tossing the drying cloth over one shoulder and stooping over the table.
“Did you hear something on the aether?” he asked her, fishing out the silverware they had used from the bottom of the scrubbing bucket.
“More like nothing,” she said, opening the little fuel hatch and peering into the square compartment. “It still has plenty of thonite left in the cube. I guess we just didn’t crank it enough.” Closing the hatch, she gripped the little handle on the side and started spinning it. Then cracked a yawn, belatedly smothering it behind her hand before returning it to her work. “Pardon me. Warm and full and safe, my body is finally beginning to relax, though my brain is still racing . . .”
“I know the feeling. We took so many precautions, walking out of that last town in a completely different direction, hugging the tree line, detouring around anything that looked like it might be a house or a person, hiding from any airship that looked like it might be theirs . . . But I feel safe now. For now,” he amended. “It’s been a long day, and a long week. We can’t stay here forever, but we can stay here for now. And that’s a relief.”
“Mm, I quite agree,” she murmured.
Turning the washbucket of dirty water over, Kiers rinsed the forks in the tub holding the clean, still-steaming water, then turned and moved up behind her. Sliding the towel from her shoulder, he absentmindedly dried the forks while watching her body sway with the effort of charging the device. He made up his mind as she pushed the button, restarting the thing with a fresh crackle of static . . . and smothered another yawn.
Reaching past her hip, he placed the two forks on the tabletop with little clicks of metal on wood, then straightened and stepped deliberately close enough to brush his thighs against her rump. She gasped and straightened up. “Mister Kiers?”
“Yes, Miss Vielle?” he asked. He touched her back with both hands, then slid them around her ribs. The hitch in her breath as he did so made him smile. As she was nearly a foot shorter than him, it was far easier for him to cup the undersides of her linen-clad breasts than it was to wrap his arms around her waist.
“Mister Kiereseth!” she tried to snap, using his full first name. It came out a bit too breathy to be forceful, though. The illicit touch made Vee’s head spin, banishing the exhaustion from her body. Still, she tried; the habits of courtly behavior, the ways of polite society, had been drummed too thoroughly into her back in the Courier’s Academy. And, ex- or not, he was a prince. She didn’t want him to think she was taking her earlier offer with the lightness of a professional whore. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, now?”
Stooping, he murmured in her ear, “Well, if you’re tired, then the gentlemanly thing to do would be to carry you up to bed, now wouldn’t it?” Gently kneading her modest breasts, he added, “These looked rather heavy, so I thought I’d carry them up first.”
The sheer audacity of his preposterous claim, coupled with his bold, ticklish touch, made her burst into laughter. He hugged her for it, cradling her slender form against his body, then leaned forward just enough to turn the aetherometer off. Sagging against him as he straightened, Vee covered her nose and mouth, trying not to snort as she wound down into amused giggles. Only to squeak and tense as he scooped her off her feet, one arm behind her back, the other under her knees.
Kiers hefted her against his chest, then paused and quirked a brow. “Miss Vielle, are you tensing up because you’re afraid of my intentions, or are you tensing because you’re trying to lighten your negligible mass on my behalf? You don’t need to. I am strong.”
Cradled against his warmth, she considered his question for a moment, then relaxed. Half of her mass had indeed been negated by her reflexive tensing. It now settled firmly into his arms. She peeked up at him, once again feeling that same stomach-warming tension that had lurked all throughout their meal. “Well, I’m not really afraid of your intentions, per se. I’m just . . . inexperienced. And I don’t take such things lightly.”
He nodded. “That’s understandable. And I am treating this moment very seriously. I hate being kicked out of my kingdom, but I don’t regret coming to know you. Although I hope I do not shock you by admitting I have a fair bit of experience. Father and Mother both agreed that their children—male and female—should know plenty about lovemaking, in case anyone should think to sway our minds via seduction.
“It’s easier to keep a clear head when you know what to expect. Grab the lamps, will you?” he added, turning so that she could grasp the two lit oil lamps illuminating the kitchen. “It’s always best to see what you’re doing in a bed, rather than fumbling around in the dark.”
“I, er, suppose that makes sense.” Face warm at the implications of what they were about to do, she plucked first one lamp, then the other from the table while he carefully stepped around it. Balancing them carefully in her grasp, Vee enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation of being carried upstairs. He had to do so sideways to clear her legs, but once at the top directed her in murmurs to set one lamp on one of the wardrobe cupboards, and the other on the bedside table. Once that was done, he set her gently on her feet at the side of the monstrous, down-quilted bed.
The upper floor of the cabin was by now much warmer than the bottom level, and the temperature difference made the layers of her clothing feel restrictive. She knew enough about lovemaking to know that garments were superfluous in such matters. That prompted her to lift her fingers to the buttons of her outer blouse. A moment later, Kiers covered her hands with his own.
“May I?” he asked, stilling her fingers.
Blushing, Vee nodded. She started to lower her hands, but he drew them up to the buttons of his own layered shirts. The grin he gave her made her smile shyly back in return. Arms interlacing, they pushed the little wooden circles through their holes. He unfastened the waistband button of his trousers, giving her enough slack to start tugging his shirttails free, and she did the same for him.
“So many layers,” Vee muttered after helping him out of the first shirt, only to be confronted with the next. “It’s a wonder humans even bother with lovemaking in winter.”
“Well, I may come from a balmy southern climate,” Kiers returned wryly, “but even I’ve heard that lovemaking is an excellent way to stay warm in winter . . . and while parts of me protest at having to work hard like a common laborer . . . I don’t mind playing lady’s maid to you.”
“We’re not that far north, you know. Triona borders the midlands. It’s actually just above Heartland, if off to the east a bit, and we’re on the southern edge,” she pointed out, meaning to be fair, but also trying to distract herself so her fingers wouldn’t fumble too much from nervousness. “And I’ve never played valet to anyone other than myself. If ladies can play the part of a valet.”
“I have come to believe through our adventures, Miss Vielle, that you can do anything you like. As for our latitude, midlands or not, we are stuck in the mountains,” he said, opening her second shirt. The act bared her chemise-covered breasts. Smirking, Kiers cupped them once again in his hands. “Cold little mountains with pointy little peaks . . .”