“I won’t bite, my dear,” he drawled.
“I’m not so sure of that,” she said, attempting for humor, despite her tense appearance.
“Here.” Jaime picked up a pile that had been left by the tub. “These are your towels. I will bathe when you are done and we have cleaned your wound. In the meantime, allow me to leave you to your peace.”
Jaime bowed again and walked towards her. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he neared her. He didn’t even attempt to mask the craving in his eyes as he gave her a quick once-over. Only a foot away from her, he slowed his steps, leaned in. Her eyes became round as orbs as he leaned further and further. He dropped his eyes to her lips. Her tongue shot out to moisten her lower lip. He did the same, tilting his head ever so slightly as he neared her. Saoirse didn’t move a muscle. His lips were almost to hers. So close he could feel her breath on his face. He opened his mouth, inches from hers.
“Have a good bath,” he said, quickly drew back, and winked, then cut at a 90 degree angle on his heel and walked towards the sitting area at the far end of the room.
“Yes, my Queen.”
Never “mother”. No. Not Titania. She was not a mother; had never relegated herself to something as primitive as motherhood. The implacable truth of having birthed Jaime was easily brushed aside by her ego and a lack of any inherent maternal instincts.
Silent as the softest breeze Titania was at the door, exiting towards the hallway outside. Jaime did not remove his eyes from her.
She glanced back at Saoirse’s sleeping form and Jaime felt his heart stop.
He knew that look.
He’d seen it once before.
On the day filled with blood and screams.
All belonging to his father. Titania’s Consort. And the victim of her severe and derelict form of justice.
The look was gone in a flash and Jaime made no move until his mother was gone.
Tears moistened his eyes as the weight of emotion burrowed him in memories long-held silent. His father had found comfort in another’s arms and Titania had extracted a vicious recompense for the slight. His death had subdued her instant fury, but hadn’t managed to sate the desire for vengeance against his co-conspirator.
Jaime shuddered as agonizing memories surfaced.