Blood of the Fold

"Brought under. . yes, of course. Tomorrow. They will have a personal letter from me, and the names of all our officials to be informed. Kelton is hereby a part of D'Hara." She bowed her head, her dark curls slipping across her rosy cheeks. "We are honored to be the first to join. Ail Kelton will fight for freedom."

Richard let out a huge sigh of his own. "Thank you. Duchess… or should I call you Queen Lumholtz?"

She sat back, her wrists draped on the arms of the chair, her hands pendent. "Neither." One leg slid upward as she crossed it over the other. "You should call me Cathryn, Lord Rahl."

"Cathryn, then, and please, call me Richard. Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of everyone calling me. ." As he stared into her eyes, he forget what he was going to say.

With a coy smile, she leaned forward, one breast slipping past the table's brink. Richard realized he was sitting on the edge of his chair again as he watched her twist a ringlet of black hair around a finger. He focused on the tray of food before himself in an attempt to control his roving eyes.

"Richard, then." She giggled, a sound not in the least bit girlish, but both husky and womanly at the same time, and not at all ladylike. He held his breath, lest he sigh out loud. "I don't know if I can gel used to addressing such a great man as the Master of all D'hara so intimately."

Richard smiled. "Perhaps it will simply take practice, Cathryn."

"Yes, practice," she said in a breathy voice. She suddenly blushed. "Look at me, going on again. Those painfully handsome gray eyes of yours do make a woman forget herself. I had better leave you to your dinner before it gets cold." Her gaze lingered on the tray between them. "It looks delicious."

Richard jumped up. "Let me have some brought for you."

She withdrew from the brink of the table, putting her shoulders back against the chair. "No, I couldn't. You're a busy man, and you've already been too kind."

"I'm not busy. I was just having a bite before I went to bed. At least you could sit with me while I ate, and perhaps share a little of it with me? There's more here than I can eat — it would just go to waste."

She drew closer to him again, pressing against the table. "Well, it does look sumptuous.. and if you aren't going to eat it all… maybe just a nibble, then."

Richard grinned. "What would you like? Stew, spiced eggs, rice, Iamb?"

At the mention of Iamb she let out a throaty murmur of pleasure. Richard threaded the gold-rimmed white plate across the tray. He hadn't had any intention of eating the lamb himself; since the gift had awakened in him he wasn't able to eat meat. Something to do with the magic at the time the gift manifested itself, or perhaps it was as the Sisters had told him: all magic must be in balance. Since he was a war wizard, maybe he couldn't eat meat in order to balance the killing he sometimes had to do.

Richard offered her the knife and fork. Smiling again, she shook her head and with her fingers picked up the lamb chop. "Keltans have a saying that if it's good, nothing should come between you and the experience."

"Then I hope it's good," Richard heard himself say. For the first time in days he didn't feel lonely.

With her brown eyes fixed on his, she leaned forward on her elbows and took a dainty bite. Transfixed, Richard waited.

"So… is it good?"

In answer, her eyes rolled back in her head and her lids slid closed while she hunched her shoulders and moaned in perfect rapture. Her gaze came down, restoring the torrid connection. Her mouth enveloped the meat, and her flawless white teeth tore off a succulent chunk. Her lips were slick with it. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone chew so slowly.

Richard pulled the doughy center of the bread in two, giving her the one with the most butter. With the crust, he scooped rice out of the brown cream. His hand paused before his mouth as she took the butter off in one long lick.

She let out a throaty purr of approval. "I love how soft and slippery it feels against my tongue," she explained in little more than a whisper. From her glistening, dangling fingers, she let the chunk of bread drop to the tray.

She watched his eyes as she dragged her teeth across the bone, gnawing along its ridge. With sucking nibbles, she scoured the length clean. The piece of bread waited before Richard's mouth.

Her tongue stroked across her lips. "Best I've ever had."

Richard realized that his fingers were empty. He thought that he must have eaten the scoop of rice until he saw the white splat on the tray under him.

She plucked an egg from the bowl, pressed her red lips around it, and bit it in half. "Umm. Luscious." She placed the round end of the other half to his lips. "Here, try it."

Its silken surface had a mildly spicy tang against his tongue and a flexible, resilient feel. She pushed it all the way in with one finger. It was chew or choke, He chewed.