Chapter 381: Jealousy Jealousy

“Your Majesty…” A veteran guard, a gruff man with a scar running through his grey beard who had been among the most skeptical, approached her with a bowl. “Thank you. For the warmth.”

Eris looked at him, surprised by the lack of fear in his eyes. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice habitually defensive.

“It’s not nothing,” the guard corrected firmly, his voice respectful. “In this cold, a man’s blood can turn to slush before he even knows he’s dying. You’re keeping us alive, Ma’am.”

He gave a sharp, appreciative nod and sat down nearby, joining the others in a low-voiced conversation about past hunts. Eris sat among them, the firelight dancing in her eyes, feeling a strange, new sensation: acceptance.

Not just the commoners this time, but the very strengths of the Emperor.

Soren, returning from the perimeter, froze. He saw the scene, the warm glow, the laughing guards, and his wife at the center of it all, smiling at a story Thyren was telling. She looked comfortable. She looked happy. And she wasn’t looking at him.

“Tsk!”

Jealousy, sharp and petty, spiked in his chest.

She ignored me all day, he thought, sulking as he approached the fire. I kill a giant elk to impress her and get a ’nice job,’ but she gives these idiots enough heat to melt a glacier? He sat down near the edge of the circle, trying to look casual and failing utterly.

He stared at her, waiting for her to acknowledge his return, but Eris was busy listening to a guard describe a legendary White Orc encounter. She knew he was there. She could feel his icy gaze like a draft on the back of her neck. And she enjoyed every second of his misery.

After the meal, Eris stood and walked toward the horse line. She retrieved an apple from her bag, the fruit chilled but not yet frozen.

She approached Solara, who let out a soft, melodic nicker of greeting. Eris broke the apple in half with a practiced snap, feeding a piece to the mare and stroking her velvet nose. “Good girl,” she whispered. “You did so well today. Far better than some of the men.”

Soren watched from across the camp, his eyes narrowed. She’s being sweet to her horse.

She was kind to the guards. She’s being nice to everyone but the man who personally ensured she has four layers of animal fur to sleep on. He looked, for the third time that day, like a kicked puppy.

Eris finished with Solara and turned. She saw him. He was sitting on a log, looking pathetic and hopeful and irritated all at once.

She felt a twinge of guilt, but it was quickly swallowed by her amusement. She reached back into her bag, pulled out a second apple, and walked over to him.

She stood directly in front of him, the light of her own heat shimmering in the air between them. Soren looked up, his expression guarded. Eris held out the apple, her lips curling into a slow, wicked smirk that promised a lifetime of trouble.

“Do you want a bite too?” she asked, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Soren’s brain short-circuited. He looked at the apple, then at the smirk, and the realization hit him like a physical blow.

She’s been playing me. The silence, the horse, the guards, she knew exactly what she was doing.

He was torn between being offended, being impressed, and being incredibly turned on by the sheer audacity of her outplaying him.

He reached up, taking the apple from her hand, his fingers lingering against hers. He took a deliberate, aggressive bite while maintaining eye contact. “You’re cruel,” he mumbled around the fruit.

Eris sat beside him, bumping her shoulder against his. “You started it. You tease me constantly, Soren. Consider this a lesson in Northern hospitality.”

Soren let out a grudging, lopsided smile. “Fair.”

Behind them, Thyren leaned toward Ryse. “Did… did she just compare His Majesty to a horse?”

“Yes,” Ryse said, sounding remarkably satisfied.

“And he just… took it? He’s eating the apple?”

“He’s enjoying the apple, Thyren. Keep up.”

The camp eventually quieted, the guards retreating to their tents as the deep night took hold. Soren and Eris remained by the fire, the perfect temperature balance created between his innate cold and her radiating heat.

“I hated today,” Soren admitted quietly, leaning his head back to look at the stars.

“You got a big elk,” Eris reminded him, her voice softer now.

“You ignored me for hours, Eris. My soul felt like it was being sanded down.”

“You tease me every chance you get. I thought you liked a challenge.”

Soren turned to look at her. “That’s different. I tease you because I want you to look at me. When you ignore me, it’s like the sun went out.” He paused, looking back at the fire. “You looked… even more radiant, though.”

Eris felt a flush of pride that had nothing to do with her fire magic. “And you were very impressive. You scared everyone. Including me.”

Soren looked genuinely confused. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Soren, the aura you were giving off… it was like standing next to a god of death. The guards were literally praying. The birds stopped singing. You didn’t notice?”

He blinked, a look of slow realization dawning on his face. “I… I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to look skilled. I wanted to impress you, so I was focused on being the perfect hunter. I didn’t know I was scaring the help.”

Eris laughed, a bright, clear sound that echoed in the silent woods. “By terrifying the entire province?.”

“My bad,” Soren countered, pulling her closer. He sighed, a comfortable silence settling between them as Bjorn curled up at their feet, a massive, warm weight.

“Don’t ignore me tomorrow?” Soren asked as they stood to head toward their tent.

Eris looked at him, her eyes dancing. “I’ll think about it.”

“Eris.”

“Fine. I won’t ignore you,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “But I’m still feeding Solara first.”

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