Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (27 page)

Whatever. It wasn’t the first, it wouldn’t be the last and because of that, I’d have to get used to it.

I might as well start now.

The wine came and I set my menu aside to watch it being served.

And I saw there was no taste testing exercise to go through here. The waiter just put down delicately etched, flat-bowled champagne glasses in front of Apollo and I, popped the cork and poured.

He then took orders. This time, Apollo allowed me to order for myself.

And then the waiter was away and I was alone with Apollo and champagne.

I went after the champagne and took a sip.

Beauty.

“What you expected?” Apollo asked and my eyes went to him to see he was asking this with his gaze on me over the rim of his wineglass and, like everything about him, that was hot.

He took a sip as I answered, “Better.”

His eyes smiled as he swallowed and set the glass aside.

It was then, it hit me that our date had commenced and I felt my palms start to get wet.

But here I was, in a new world and I knew one thing. I had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

In fact, I’d been doing that from the beginning.

And one could say that, so far, with a few minor blips that were mostly my fault, I hadn’t done too badly.

So I set my glass aside, linked my hands in my lap and sought an easy subject of conversation.

I decided on, “What’s your horse’s name?”

He sat back in his chair and leveled his eyes on me.

Again, a simple movement, a simple posture.

And totally hot.

“Torment,” he answered.

I blinked because, although that was a kickass name, it was also a strange one.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“His sister guides your sleigh,” Apollo continued.

“What’s her name?” I inquired.

“Anguish.”

I blinked again.

Then I threw out a hand. “Those are, well…interesting names.”

“They were born of the same mare at the same time. Rare and dangerous,” he told me. “Usually, if a mare produces twins, one or both of the foals or the mare will perish during birth. If a foal was to survive, it would be small and sickly and not last long. Unusually, Torment and Anguish both were strong healthy foals, if still small.” He reached to his glass and took a sip, finishing his story as he put the glass back to the table. “However, they killed their mother at birth.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“She was Ilsa’s. They were born within a week of her dying.”

Shit.

Well, there you go. The reason for their names.

I decided not to reply.

“Surprisingly,” he carried on. “They grew healthy and strong. A miracle. One built on tragedy but one nonetheless.”

“Yes, a miracle,” I murmured, reaching for my own wineglass and looking away when I took a sip.

“We must speak of them.”

At his words, I looked back to him, not understanding. “Sorry?”

“They existed. We can’t pretend they did not. Burying memories, treasured or detested, is unhealthy,” he explained.

He was talking of Ilsa and Pol and he was doing it matter-of-factly.

He was also right, of course.

I still wasn’t fired up to share about Pol during our kind of first date.

Apollo leaned into me and he said softly, “Reliving unhappy memories is always unpleasant, Maddie. I’m simply saying that it’s likely I’ll refer to her because she was once in my life and to know me, you must know of my life. She’s also the mother of my children and will always be a part of my life in some way because of that.” His voice dropped even softer and his eyes held mine, his intense but warm, when he went on. “And last, I loved her deeply, so she simply always will be a part of me.”

I nodded as this was true, but he wasn’t done.

“I’m also saying if you feel the need to release your memories, unhappy or otherwise, and need someone to tell them to, and in the case of the unhappy ones, if you need someone to help take them from you, I’m here.”

God, that was sweet.

Seriously, could this guy get better?

“Thanks,” I whispered, though I added, “But can it not be now?”

“Absolutely, it can not be now. It can be never. It’s your decision whether you wish to share…or not.”

Yep.

This guy could get better.

And then he got even better and he did that by sitting back and changing the subject, which, at that point, was exactly what I needed.

“I have yet to tell you of Valentine’s visits.”

I nodded, and since I wanted to know about that, I put my elbows to the table and leaned into them, placing my chin in my palms and curling my fingers up my cheeks.

When I did, his eyes melted to tender and my belly melted at the view.

But what he said didn’t make me feel warm and squishy.

“I must ask, dove, that if she visits you, you tell me. This is again your choice, but it is my preference to know if she meddles.”

That surprised me. “Is she not a nice person?”

“I am not unskilled in reading people. This witch, however, I cannot say. She seems to have a rather robust protective bent to you. Yet she left you the tea without you understanding its potency or effects. It led to us sharing something beautiful, but this is not done. Indeed, it’s frowned upon and there have even been men and women brought up on charges when they’ve used it on those who were unsuspecting.”

“It’s used as a date rape drug,” I deduced quietly.

“Explain this,” he ordered.

I lifted my chin from my palms and did just that.

“In my world, men and women go on dates before marriage. It’s a kind of wooing, I guess. Courtship. A getting to know each other period. Sometimes, this leads to a union, marriage or the like. Sometimes, it doesn’t work out and you move on. Also in my world, there are drugs that are used to make women—they’re mostly used on women—unconscious or unable to defend themselves so the men they’re dating can take advantage. They’re called date rape drugs because, when it all boils down, even if there’s no violence or struggle, that’s only because the woman has been incapacitated. So it’s still rape. Using adela tea like that is not the same, but it kind of is.”

He nodded once, sharply, and concurred, “It is.”

I sat back, reached for my wineglass and took a sip, replacing it to the table, mumbling, “So I guess that’s the second time she drugged me without my knowledge.”

“Your first night in our world,” he stated and I looked at him again.

“Yes.”

He looked away but did it appearing annoyed and I’d know why when he murmured, “I’d wondered why you slipped into sleep so easily after your trauma.”

“That was why,” I affirmed.

He looked back to me. “This, poppy, is precisely why I wish for you to inform me if she comes to you. In word and deed she seems to have your best interests at heart. But it all depends on the person and their actions if their best interests are also yours, no?”

He was
so
right.

I nodded my agreement.

He again leaned toward me and gentled his tone when he requested, “And please, from now on, don’t touch, accept or consume anything unless you’re certain it was provided to you by me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” I said softly.

His lips curved up and he whispered, “Thank you, poppy.”

Okay.

Totally.

This guy kept getting so much better I was beginning to wonder if he was even real.

“We must discuss something else sensitive before our food is served so it can have both our attention and then we can go on to enjoy the evening unhindered by such discourse.”

Oh boy.

So far this date wasn’t much for the easy conversation.

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“Last night was just you and me,” he declared.

I felt my brows draw together in confusion but agreed to the obvious. “Yes.”

“What I’m saying is, considering what you shared with me was the length of time since you were last active before last night, I would doubt you’re taking pennyrium and not once did I wear a sheath.”

I shook my head, still confused. “I don’t—”

“To protect against conception.”

Holy shit.

My entire body grew still.

Apollo obviously didn’t notice because he kept talking.

“Prior to leaving Vasterhague, we will procure you some pennyrium and tonight, I’ll wear a sheath.”

I had no idea what pennyrium was. I could guess what a sheath was. And that last was nice and all, but my heart was racing and my mind was reeling.

I tried to count the times he came inside me the night before and I couldn’t. There were too many. At least five. Maybe more.

Shit!

I hadn’t thought of that. Upon waking, I’d only thought about him being hurt and angry. Then I’d, of course, fallen asleep. After that, it was all about him being sweet and affectionate and getting ready for our date.

Shit.

Shit!

“Maddie,” he called and I forced myself to focus on him.

“Um…I would say that all this is good, Apollo. Nice. I like it.” I indicated him, me and the table with a circling hand and when I was done, I dropped that hand to rest on the table. “But pregnancy at this point is definitely taking things too freaking quickly,” I shared.

“Agreed,” he said slowly, reaching out a hand, capturing mine and holding it tight. “And I’ll share that pennyrium didn’t agree with Ilsa and we wished time together after we were wed before Christophe was born. The sheath gave us that time as well as time between Christophe and Élan. It is often used and quite dependable. If you can take pennyrium, it’s even better.”

“What’s pennyrium?” I asked.

“A powder you take once a day that protects you from conceiving. One must be careful using it for if you wish to conceive, even if you cease consuming the powder, it can take some time to leave the system and long-term usage can make conception difficult. But it’s effective.”

“Okay, let’s get me some of that,” I said swiftly.

His hand tightened around mine and his lips twitched. “I’ll see to that without delay.”

I nodded enthusiastically.

He pressed his lips together, his eyes lit with humor then he pulled our hands to his mouth and touched my knuckles to his lips.

I quit freaking about all the unprotected sex we had last night and my heart flipped.

He kept my hand to his lips and his voice was so quiet, so gentle, I had to lean further forward to hear him when he asked a very big question with two simple words, “Your children?”

“Can we not talk about that now?” I whispered.

“Of course, poppy,” he replied.

I thanked him with my eyes as I tried to force my body to relax.

“Ulfr!”

His name called jovially made me jump and turn my head to see a man in much the same clothing as Apollo (but with a neck cloth and his shirt was blue) coming to our table. He was also stout, had a bit of white at the temples of his black hair and my guess was he was shorter than Apollo by about three inches and older than Apollo by about ten years.

He was smiling at Apollo but his smile went weird when his eyes hit me.

“Danforth,” Apollo said, giving my fingers a squeeze and letting them go.

He stood and offered his hand, the man taking it and gripping hard at the same time he clapped Apollo on the shoulder a half a dozen times in a way that a lesser man would fall to his knee.

Apollo didn’t budge, if you didn’t count his jaw going hard.

I took this as him not liking the greeting much, and/or the man.

Then suddenly, he let Apollo go and turned to me with a sharp movement and something a creepy bit more than curiosity in his eyes.

“And who might this be?” he asked.

It was then I remembered who I looked like and my insides froze.

“This is Madeleine, Lady Ulfr,” Apollo said and the man’s eyes cut immediately back to him as his body gave a visible start.

“Lady Ulfr?” he said in a weighty tone that I didn’t quite understand but I also didn’t think boded well. And I didn’t think this boded well not because I looked exactly like the no-longer-with-us Lady Ulfr but for another reason. I just didn’t know what that reason was.

“Lady Ulfr,” Apollo repeated in a firm way that brooked no return questioning.

“I had…well,”—the man threw both hands out—“I’d heard that a cousin of Ilsa’s was journeying to Karsvall from the Vale but…but…” His eyes came back to me. They were wide and assessing in a way that made me feel uncomfortable even as he finished, “This is indeed good news.”