Free The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) by Andrea K Höst Page B

play might upset Illidian, since they were sure to at least touch upon the injuries the Black Queen had inflicted. She had not imagined that her husband would be publicly dissected.
    The story of a hero: not wholly inaccurate, and far from uncomplimentary. The audience had been raptly attentive since the battle in Asentyr, and Rennyn could feel their response to each setback. Whoever was behind this had a very real understanding of the Kellian, but a sympathetic portrayal did not leave Illidian any less exposed. He was a hard man to upset, but the muscles in his arm had not relaxed since she'd commented on the play's name, and she thoroughly regretted her indulgence even before the woman pretending to be her struck a pose and asked the crowd: "How can I in conscience want such a man?"
    Rennyn was so focused on Illidian's feelings that her own reaction blindsided her. They had reached that final day of the Grand Summoning, and her Wicked Uncle had said: "Wake up, cousin" to bring her out of the sleep casting he'd used to subdue the city. Rennyn listened to the actor gloating, wondering if the audience would be confused by the way he called her cousin because it was easier than many-times great-niece. And then the woman who was not her was pretending to be bitten and suddenly Rennyn couldn't look, couldn't breathe. She turned her head and hid her eyes against Illidian's arm, blood pounding in her ears in response to remembered pain, the disgusting noise he had made as he drank, and a sense of being crushed, of being invaded by something trying to force her into a different shape, and then the wrench of power going awry, laying an extra level of sickness on top of hateful touch—
    Shuddering, Rennyn realised she'd been moved, pulled into Illidian's lap so he could hold her to his chest and stroke her back. She could not catch her breath, could not hear over the roaring in her ears or even control her trembling, could only stare at the creature she'd become: so vulnerable and so weak.
    It seemed a long time before she could hear, and then she listened to Illidian's heartbeat, ignoring the noises from the stage. When her shaking had gone as well, he stopped smoothing his hand down her back.
    "Shall we leave now?"
    "Yes." Her voice was very small, and she wondered if Illidian would ever tire of the work she involved.
    Kellian strength made it easy for him to carry her to the landing outside, where she made an attempt at standing, and found that she could stay reasonably upright clinging to his arm. A muffled roar broke as they reached the entrance, and she realised it was applause. Then they were out on the street, with all the traffic of the Crossways to deal with, but Illidian signalled and the coach he'd arranged to collect them was fetched from around the corner.
    The journey back to barracks escaped her entirely, but she opened her eyes again when Illidian put her down in his quarters. "Something warm to drink," he prescribed, and the idea was a reviving one. Feeling more like herself, she managed to get herself to the privy down the corridor, and even warmed a bowl of water so she could wash before dressing for bed. It was the only time she'd cast that day, and she thought about that until Illidian returned from the kitchens.
    He'd found some syrupy Kolan kur, and even dosed it with a tiny amount of spirits, which was something she couldn't drink in any quantity. But they sat together and it warmed her.
    She leaned against him again. "I didn't know I could fall apart like that."
    "Reaction from the attack." He took her empty cup and put it on the floor. "At the time, you pushed it aside. And then you were injured, and when you at last had the time and energy to think, that was not something you wanted to dwell upon. You haven't had to face the memory until now."
    He touched her cheek, then bent his head to kiss her properly for the first time since that one night they'd spent together two months ago. Rennyn was considerably