Chapter 32 Rainfall
Chapter 32 Rainfall
Nearly a fortnight later, the first fleet of ships readied to depart from Dawnport. A second round of soldiers would follow soon after, bringing more supplies.
Aizurah packed her satchel and made her way down to the armory. The princess had yet to wear her battle armor, but was pleased with the fit as she tried it on. The set was loaded into a second bag, which she would attach to Starlyght’s back before takeoff.
“Are you sure about this?” the King asked, standing in the outer yard, clutching her hands in his
“I am, Father. The Kingdom needs to know that its Queen will fight for them. And I need to make sure your brother doesn’t maim himself, or worse.”
She smiled bravely at him, never letting him see that she had her own doubts. “Be careful with Sir Sebastian. I know you care about him, like a son,” she whispered as she embraced him, “Remember your duty is to the kingdom first, and your friendships last.”
“Of course, daughter. Be safe.” He kissed her forehead, and she fought the urge to cry. “Don’t even consider returning without her,” Rayneir said sternly as Zeidan hugged him goodbye.
“I loathe to see you flying off to battle,” Sylene told the princess, clutching her hand tighter than necessary. “I barely got you back.”
“Nonsense, my Queen,” Aizurah replied kindly. “We will be back in no time at all.” When the goodbyes had finished, Zeidan and Aizurah made their way down to the Caverns, and Lord Taevar headed for his ships in the bay, along with Sir Stonewell. Maerus would be joining them when they reached Rainfall.
Aizurah took her time readying Starlyght for their departure, knowing that, if things went wrong, it might be their last flight from the Caverns. The princess rubbed down the drake’s hide, whispering soft, encouraging words to her. She secured her sack of armor to the back of her mount and settled herself on her back, glancing over at Zeidan on Varynx. He gave her an encouraging nod and the pair lifted off…
The flight was far longer than Starlyght or Aizurah were used to, and her muscles were aching by the time they landed in Rainfall. Aptly named, the rain greeted them upon their arrival, and they hurried out of the torrential downpour, thoroughly soaked.
Lord Bernyrd welcomed Aizurah and Zeidan with open arms. Food and drink flowed endlessly, and the princess found herself in good spirits, clapping along to the music and smiling at Zeidan.
Before the evening ended, her cousin Maerus arrived with Astra and joined them in the Hall of Rain. While Bernyrd was the same friendly man she remembered from her tours of the kingdom years prior, Aizurah couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the glare his son, Brendyn, repeatedly sent her way.
“The Rainfur family is glad to offer our support—" Brendyn scoffed, and his father turned to him, eyes sharp.
“You have something to add, son?” Lord Bernyrd asked, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t see why we are getting pulled into their fight,” he replied. While he was only a few years older than her, Aizurah couldn’t help but think Brendyn sounded like a petulant child.
“If the crown goes to war, the realm goes to war. Is that not so?” Aizurah asked. “After all, the Summer Isles belong to the Kingdom of Etherwell. Without them, our trade and our fleet will be threatened ceaselessly. Rainfall, being far closer to the Summer Isles than the crown, should understand the threat these pirates present.” Brendyn said nothing; he merely continued eyeing her resentfully.
“Well said, princess. My apologies for my son.”
“That’s not necessary, Lord Bernyrd,” Aizurah insisted with a smile, and returned to sipping her wine. When the minstrel started playing once more, Maerus offered Aizurah his arm, and the pair made their way to the center of the hall to dance.
“I must say, cousin, I was quite surprised to hear that you were coming with us to assist in the war efforts yourself,” Maerus told her, spinning her about.
“Dear cousin, you wound me,” Aizurah replied with a smirk, “Did I not promise your father a seat at my table, and a future betrothal between our families? How can I keep my promises to your house if I leave the Cyrrants to fight alone?” She turned serious. “How are you, truly? I never got the chance to offer my condolences, when—"
“Thank you, Aizurah,” he interrupted, clearly affected by her near mention of Tristayne. “It was a hard loss to bear, but I am moving past it.” The princess merely nodded at him.
“If you should need anything,” she told him, “Any future support from the crown, you need only send word.” Maerus smiled. Aizurah’s gut twisted with guilt as she recalled the events from the betrothal banquet, when she walked away from him.
“Relax, cousin. You have already been forgiven,” he told her.
“It’s not enough,” she insisted, twirling about and stepping close. “What happened was my fault. It was not princess-like behavior, for my part. I am sorry.” Maerus pressed a friendly kiss to the top of her head.
“It is in the past, cousin,” he insisted, “I thank you for your kind words.” Shortly after, Zeidan interrupted, taking Maerus’s place in the dance.
“Should I be jealous?” the prince teased with a smirk, nodding toward Maerus. Aizurah laughed.
“Hardly, my love. Maerus would more likely choose to share Bernyrd’s bed than mine.”
Zeidan chuckled at her remark before growing serious, “Brendyn is not thrilled about this.”
“A suspect few people are,” Aizurah answered. “Still, it needs to be done. We have his father’s support, and the King’s. That’s what matters.” They each stepped in the opposite direction and met again, moving in time with the beat.
“It’s been a long time since we danced together like this,” Zeidan murmured, gazing down at her, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand in a way that sent shivers through her.
“Too long…” she agreed, flushing when she noticed the intense look in his silver eyes. Suddenly, she wondered if the hall was hot or if it was merely her. After the heated look they exchanged, Zeidan quickly found an excuse for them to retire for the night, immediately taking her to bed.
Aizurah gasped and writhed beneath him as his hands explored her naked skin. Zeidan kissed his way up her body until their lips met, searingly.
They kissed for ages, shifting on the bed as their lips traveled along one another’s skin. Every touch produced sweet sounds that filled their guest chambers. Their hands caressed, lips explored, all the while committing one another’s bodies to memory, hoping it would not be the last time they came together so passionately.
He entered her repeatedly, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from Aizurah’s lips, her nails leaving crescent marks in his skin that would later bruise. His mouth sucked and pulled at her flesh, marking her as his own in turn. When they finally exhausted themselves, their fire had turned to cinders. It was nearing dawn, and they remained entwined in one another’s arms.