8. Day Seven - Éomer and Thiri (those two and Imrahil)
Always a danger sign, the vein at Imrahil's temple pulsed. "No?"
Lothiriel quailed but stood her ground. "I am too young and I've only known him for six days."
"The king holds you in high regard."
How he had formed that opinion, she had no idea. Aragorn had not spoken a dozen words to her since he entered Minas Tirith. She knew her duty and understood the advantages of the alliance, but her dreams had golden hair and soft, smiling lips.
"Then why were you kissing him last night?"
Relief washed through her. Éomer was also a king.
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