“Don’t be late for breakfast, then,” said Luana Lei, directing an emerald wink at Ruban even as her hand connected with Ashwin’s behind in a sharp little smack. The Aeriel giggled, and Ruban groaned. Watching Ashwin Kwan in action had been strange enough when he thought the man was real. Watching the Prince of Vaan giggle nervously after being spanked by the owner-cum-manager of their little bed and breakfast was nothing short of surreal.
A part of him hoped Safaa didn’t have any spies in the vicinity.
A direct train to Ibanborah being unavailable before the weekend, they had decided on an overnight stay at Daranj, a little town on the border of Ibanta, before boarding a local train to the state capital the next morning. And this was only after Ruban had firmly – and at one point rather aggressively – rejected Ashwin’s blithe offer to fly them directly into the city.
“That woman’s infuriating,” the Hunter snapped, throwing his damp towel over the backrest of the nearest chair as the door swung shut behind their hostess. “I almost wish she was an Aeriel so I could skewer her with a clear conscience, no offence to you.”
“None taken. And she isn’t so bad,” Ashwin smirked. “This place certainly delivers on the promise of ‘personalised service’, if nothing else.”
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Ruban frowned. “You shouldn’t be encouraging her. I’m not sure your sister would appreciate you getting distracted on the mission and spawning the next generation of hell-raising vankrai with the local hospitality staff.”
Ashwin doubled over, tears running down his face as he shook with spasmodic laughter. Ruban had to suppress the urge to slap a hand over his mouth, lest somebody hear them. Now that he knew what he was looking at, he found it hard to believe he hadn’t noticed it before. There was something innately inhuman about that laughter – both Ashwin’s and Safaa’s. Like an orchestra of temple bells. It would be impossible to miss for anyone paying the slightest amount of attention.
Not that he had ever heard an Aeriel laugh before. The ones he had had the displeasure of meeting – before Ashwin came along – certainly hadn’t been known for their sense of humour. He supposed few mortals living could really claim to know what a laughing Aeriel sounded like, which was probably the only thing keeping Ashwin from a sif-lined cell in Jahagrad.
Not that he truly believed Jahagrad could hold Shwaan for long, unless he wanted it to. If he ever had to take the Aeriel prince down, Ruban knew he would just have to kill him. “Safaa wasn’t kidding when she said discretion wasn’t your strong suit, was she?”
“My sister rarely ‘kids’ about anything, and would be mighty offended if she knew you had accused her of such a thing,” Ashwin gasped, finally pulling himself together. “Come on, we don’t want to keep the lovely Luana waiting, do we now?”
Rolling his eyes, Ruban followed the Aeriel down the stairs and into the common dining hall.