creating a miracle. Because at the sight of his throat, I forgot about his breeches.
I tore my eyes from his neck to look at his face.
Yep, this was Pol Powerhouse.
Or Apollo Powerhouse.
Pol didn’t hold a candle to this guy.
Not even close.
I watched his gaze slide through me and he turned his head toward the door he’d just walked through.
I looked down at the pillow beside me that was dented seeing as his head had rested on it through the night, wondering distractedly how late it was and how long he’d been gone seeing as he was dressed and had already gone about facing the day.
Then I looked back his way to see that he was in the room and he wasn’t the only one.
A troop of women came with him. I stopped counting at six (and maybe was half done) when he started talking.
Or more accurately commanding, his gaze on one woman. “She’ll need to be bathed and dressed. Take measurements in order that you can commence creating her apparel without delay. You’ll have one week to provide her with a wardrobe that will see her through travel, on land and at sea.”
Uh.
What?
He wasn’t done.
“Send a missive to Lunwyn urgently. They’ll need to prepare for her arrival. We make haste to Lunwyn so inform them that they have two months.”
Wait.
It took two months to get to Lunwyn?
Two months?
He turned to me, took two steps toward the bed but stopped which put him at about ten feet away.
His eyes were blank when they fell on me, which I thought was weird but I didn’t have a lot of time to think on how weird it was because he continued talking immediately.
“Obviously, I was not prepared for your arrival and in your current condition”—he looked to my check then back to my eyes—“the children shouldn’t see you.”
All the air compressed out of my lungs, and due to lack of oxygen they started burning.
Children?
He seemed not to notice my response for he went on.
“Indeed, I had planned carefully for how you would be introduced to them therefore you may be traveling separately from us so I can take that time to prepare them. We mustn’t delay in being away, however, for the witches are conniving with Baldur and whatever strike they intend to make is possibly imminent. We need to make haste in all of us arriving at the Ulfr estate in Lunwyn where I can leave you with the children in safety and rejoin Frey, Tor and the Dax.”
Clearly he thought Valentine was a lot more forthcoming during our conversation last night because I had no clue what he was talking about but he seemed to think I did.
But I didn’t ask.
I was still stuck on children.
Therefore, I wheezed, “Children?”
“Yes,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“ Your children?” I pushed out.
He stopped looking blank in order to look mildly impatient. “Yes. My children. Christophe and Élan.”
Christophe and Élan.
A boy and a girl.
Or maybe two boys (I’d never heard the name Élan).
It didn’t matter.
Children.
Apollo of this world and his dead Ilsa had children.
Two of them.
Two of them.
Suddenly, I was certain I was going to throw up but luckily he spoke again so I had something to focus on and could swallow it down.
“These women are ladies maids and seamstresses. They will attend you.”
I didn’t need ladies maids and seamstresses. I didn’t even need a bathroom anymore.
I needed Valentine. Like now.
So I asked, “Where’s Valentine?”
“I do not know. She disappeared in the night, as is her wont.”
Disappeared?
Why?
Shit!
“Uh…I think she left a lot out last night,” I informed him.
“I’m late being away to the children’s school. You and I will talk later. But I’ll warn you now, I’ll have little time. There’s much to be done before we embark on our journey, so think on your questions and use that time wisely,” he stated and turned to leave.
Wait.
Hang on a second.
Who was this guy? And where was the guy who was all affectionate and kind and concerned and