His whiskey glass was empty again, and he still wasn’t drunk enough, but even as he moved to get a refill, he caught Gen’s sidelong glance, the subtle shake of her head. Fine, then.
Resigned and in the doldrums, stuck like a sailing ship without oars on a windless day, he excused himself and went to his room to lie awake and brood. Stella didn’t even notice that he’d left.
In the morning, Astar sent around a request that they all convene to hear Zeph and Lena’s tale of their adventures—and to plan next steps accordingly.
Jak was the first one to arrive, that Dasnarian sailor timeliness thing prodding him as always, not to mention that he’d been up since dawn, running forms and testing his body. It had been a relief to perform Danu’s Dance to the best of his ability. At least that was one arena where he wasn’t a disaster.
The small salon they were to meet in overlooked the lake, providing spectacular views, so he stood at the big window studying the unruffled surface of the black water for signs of Stella’s lake creature. The snow-capped mountains all around plunged dramatically to lake level, a considerable drop in altitude from the peaks. On the heights, winds whipped snow across pristine ridges, looking like the ghosts of deer racing from unseen predators. Below, not a breeze disturbed the lake’s glassy surface. The difference between the two bothered him in a way he couldn’t quite identify. They were like two worlds, juxtaposed together.
A sound at the door alerted him, and he glanced over his shoulder, expecting a servant with the promised hot beverages and breakfast pastries. Instead he caught Stella on the verge of sneaking out again.
“Afraid to be alone with me?” he asked, and she started guiltily, a rose blush gracing her fair cheekbones.
With a heartfelt sigh, she entered the salon. “I’m surprised you heard me. Most people don’t.”
Most mossbacks, she meant. He had to give her credit that she hadn’t lied about trying to avoid him, much as it pained him that she felt she needed to. “You know Mom,” he said lightly. “She’d skin me and use me for shark bait if I let someone sneak up on me.”
Stella smiled a little and nodded, relief releasing the lines around her solemn mouth. Relaxing, perhaps, that he’d let her off the hook. “Jepp is impossible to sneak up on, too. I’ve tried.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t sense me in here before you walked in the door,” he said, trying very hard to sound friendly and not at all bitter, even if he did feel like actual shark bait. Don’t be like Rhy.
“I try not to listen like that,” she replied, coming to his side. “I thought you knew that. I observe privacy whenever I can.”
Except when someone hurls his emotions at her like rocks.
She came to his side, gazing out the window also. “I’m very sorry, Jak,” she said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear and probably hoping none of their keen-eared friends would. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” he replied, willing it to be true. When she slanted him a dubious glance, he grinned. “A mere flesh wound, right? Yes, it hurt in the moment, but it had to be done. I appreciate your honesty, and I won’t be like Rhy, mooning after what I can’t have. You can rest easy on that account.”
Stella smiled at that, some genuine warmth in it. “Speaking of flesh wounds, how are you feeling?”
“Good. Excellent, really. I had a decent workout this morning, and I’m happy to report all is shipshape.”
“Yes, I saw you. On the beach, from my window.” She was blushing. How fascinating. “You looked good—healthy, I mean.” She pressed her lips firmly together.
Tempted to tease her, he instead took a deliberately different tack. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “For how I behaved at supper last night. I—” He broke off, realizing she wasn’t listening to him.
With an arrested expression, she looked past him to the doorway, so he turned to see what had distracted her. Zeph and Astar entered, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist, both of them positively glowing with love, and reeking of sex. Not literally on the latter—not to his human nose anyway—but it was obvious in the languid lines of their bodies, the way they fit against each other, that they’d been tangled around each other in every way possible.
He had to look away, taken off guard by the stab of envy. Not that he’d ever desired Zeph, though she’d offered, and not because she wasn’t beautiful. Zeph had just never interested him that way. He wasn’t drawn to her bright, flirtatious nature. Not like he was fascinated by Stella’s shadows, her silent storminess, the black-water depths where she hid herself away.
Stella glanced at him, expression wry, and he realized he’d been staring at her as he wondered about those depths. He also caught the sadness in her eyes, the yearning she quickly erased with a serene countenance. But he’d seen the truth: Stella was broken-hearted over losing Astar. Of course she was. Jak was an only child, and had been the only kid on a sailing ship full of adults for a lot of that childhood. He had no idea what it was like to have a playmate or a sibling, let alone a twin. Running his finger along a lock of Stella’s hair, he extended a sympathetic thought. Her eyes widened, a plea in them, and he nodded.
No, she would never want Astar to have any idea how bereft she felt.
“Color me astonished,” he called out jauntily, giving Stella cover to regain her poise. “You two appear to be in one piece. Judging from the noises coming from your room, I expected to be cleaning up the bloody shreds this morning.”
“Ha-ha,” Zeph tossed at him, making a face, while Astar blushed. “Nilly, can I talk to you a moment before we get started?”
“You can talk to me anytime,” Stella replied, going with Zeph to the far corner.
The servants came in, one young woman practically staggering under a heavy silver tray, so Jak stepped over to relieve her of it. “Oh, milord!” she gasped, face turning redder. “You needn’t—”
“Already done, milady.” He gave her a wink and set the tray on a low table. “You have brought sunshine to a gray morning because I dearly wanted…” He surveyed the offerings with some disappointment. “Hot tea,” he finished gamely.
“If it please you, milord,” she offered shyly, picking up a silver pitcher, “I have coffee imported from Annfwn, too. I could fix you a cup.”
“You are my own true love,” he exclaimed, bowing elaborately. “Lots of cream, and make it as sweet as you are.”
“Stop flirting with the woman responsible for our breakfast,” Astar said with an easy smile, not meaning it.
Wonder of wonders, amazing what getting laid did to pull the stick out of a man’s ass. Jak nearly asked if Zeph had taught him any of the more stimulating things that could go up there, but decided Prince Charming wasn’t ready for that level of ribaldry yet. The dimpling servant handed Jak a cup, along with tea for Astar, who accepted it with a thank-you.
Stella’s voice rose in a squeal of happiness, and Jak looked over to see the two in a rare embrace. “What’s going on there?”
Astar cleared his throat. “I asked Zephyr to marry me. I gave her Grandmother Salena’s ring.”