36
Valine had stayed for two cups of chai before departing. Amaris and Valine had spoken of pleasantries and expressed excitement for the festival, and Valine was grateful Amaris reminded her that part of the festival was to give a gift to the person you cared for most. It was with this that she realized the dagger from Lincoln was Jacira’s gift.
She was in her azure chamber when she locked the door and tore off her chains, tossing them to the floor with a rattle before scrubbing her face from Jericho’s touch. Her leg, her thigh. She sank to the floor beside the gold pedestal that held the washbasin and cloth she’d used, her face between her knees, pushing back tears.
It was stupid. Valine was not unused to unwanted advances. She knew terrible men held power, and they used sex and rape to wield it. If not for Amaris, Valine didn’t know what would have happened, but she expected she would have endured. She ground her teeth together, her throat thick as she struggled for a breath that didn’t burn with anxiety.
The sound of a soft click alerted Valine to the adjoining door opening, and it was a second before Malik’s hurried steps crossed the room and he was crouching beside her, his hands on her arms. She stiffened before the security of him registered. His touch was warm, comforting, wanted. With tentative trust, she eased with Malik. The floodgates opened when she felt his secure presence, and Valine cried. It was not ugly, heaving sobs that she wanted to let out, but the tears were running down her face freely.
“What happened?” Malik demanded, his fingers sliding from her bare arms to cup her face. She flinched when he touched her chin. He noticed.
Valine lifted her head. Tears dripped from her dark eyes when she met Malik’s light ones, and they burned. He took her in, her lip that quivered, the way she held herself.
“What happened?” he repeated.
“I was supposed to meet with the queen,” she managed. “But the king was there instead.”
Unadulterated rage flared in Malik’s eyes. “Did he touch you?” The question was flat, Malik’s voice modulated into careful calm.
Her jaw worked. “A little. He tried.”
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“That’s my job,” she said hollowly.
“I don’t care, I’ll rip his fucking head off.”
“No, Malik, please don’t. It’s okay. I have it under control. I just needed a moment.”
Malik was silent for a moment, his hand on her arm, the other caressing her jaw. It was a comforting blanket to the touch Jericho had given her, and she felt like Malik’s was erasing the memory.
“Can I hold you?” he asked so softly she wasn’t sure she heard right.
She nodded anyway and suddenly Malik was moving beside her, leaning his back against the wall and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he tightened his grip before he scooped up her legs, cradling her in his lap, her face now nestled into his chest. She stayed like that, breathing in her favorite scent in the world while he rubbed comforting circles on her back, his head pressed against hers. They were silent, but their touch was everything. It said everything and her heart swelled with the enormity of it all.
This touch was nothing like the orgasm-inducing one he’d given her last night, but it was just as desperate. She could feel the pull between them, like the tether she used for her necromancy. It was piercing her heart, the thing between them, and it grew painfully. As if it were a rose sprouting its thorns, wrapping them in an anguished embrace.
Later, Valine returned to the healer for a headache tonic. She didn’t need it, but she did need the excuse. As she descended the steps to the room, the scents of herbs overcame her, the sounds of bubbling and flame crackling reaching her ears. Healer Das was in the center of the room, pouring honey into a flask, combining it with lemon. Valine figured it was the beginnings of a remedy for sore throats. It was then that she noticed Pandora was there too.
“Valine!” Pandora said, surprised. “Hello there, what brings you down here?”
“Um,” she stalled, realizing a headache tonic would not do, but she did have another idea. “I’m actually looking for a contraceptive tonic.”
“Oh!” Pandora gasped, blushing. “Of course. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s all right,” Valine reassured. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know.”
Healer Das set the tincture down and spun to Valine, that lewd look still present in his eyes. “And do you need the male or female contraception?”
“Both, if you have it, please.”
Healer Das nodded and went over to a set of drawers painted a chipping indigo and riffled through the contents, pushing aside labels and bottles. Clinking followed before he turned around, two bottles in hand, one murky green, the other light brown.
“Do you know how to take it?” he asked, and Valine ignored the disgust that roiled within her. She could just imagine him telling her he could show her how, and she’d rather not murder him—at least until after the festival.
“I do, thank you. Two silvers?”
Money exchanged hands, and Valine left with two tonics in hand. Blood rushed to her face at what it meant to her and then to the rest of the world. Mostly, she wondered what Malik would think of the purchase, and heat swirled within her.
Valine made a detour into the city, seeking specifically, and purchased what she needed. She traded substance and information with Hanish and then returned to her room, ate a dinner of appetizers, and immediately fell asleep, thoughts of Malik plaguing her in dreams.
The afternoon of the Tri-Moon Festival was filled with the busy movement of servants carrying trays and decorations—everything from floral arrangements to metal banners of the moon cycles and statues of the Stygian Ones. Valine was to meet with Jacira and the others, the crown princess having commanded that they all get ready together. The way there was a tide of servants, Valine having to skirt more than one dangerously leaning object or decoration.
In Jacira’s lavender suite, five dress boxes were tied with twine, sealed with a gold wax stamp, and tagged with a name in golden script. Those from the outing were scattered about the room, drinking flavored waters in preparation for the alcohol for the night and picking at a fruit tray. Valine was last to arrive and when she did Jacira let out a cheer. “Now that you’re here we can take a look at all the dresses!”
Valine prayed that they passed Jacira’s inspection.
Jacira herself went first, uncovering a gorgeous creation of royal violet silk, both the back and neckline dropping to deep Vs, a thin chain holding a crescent moon at the apex. Fluttering drop sleeves had tiny crystals dangling from them, giving the appearance of dew drops. More crystals and diamonds dotted the bodice and trickled down the skirt and if the princess were touched by rainfall. Or starfall, Valine realized.
It was beautiful.
Jacira was clearly pleased and Valine breathed a sigh of relief as she encouraged the others to open theirs.
Tallulah’s dress was thistle, a subdued off the shoulder dress with a collar grazing neckline and a cowled back, brushing mid-spine. And though the cut was simple the dress entirely encrusted with pearls was anything but. Freyja was next, hers amethyst, the garment held up by the skinniest of straps, and if not for the color, and amethyst stones studding it, it would give the illusion of skin. Because it was utterly skintight, meant to hug every curve and cup each breast. Cersei’s was completely sleeveless, the neckline sweetheart, and the slit thigh high. Unlike the other dresses, Cersei’s wasn’t truly purple. It was mulberry, a much closer to pink shade. Then there was Pandora’s, so pale lavender it was near white, in a wrapped style akin to the chiton dresses of Luneth, threaded with gold and silver. Valine realized that these dresses were not made yesterday, they were taken by other women who had commissioned them and taken in or out as needed.
Valine held her breath as she opened hers and she instantly recognized the color. It was blackberry. Blackberry for the Desdemons. Gently, Valine pulled out the garment and found that it sparkled intensely. The skirt that had two hip high slits was attached only by the barest stretch of material before it met with the neckline that plunged past her sternum. It was off the shoulder with long sleeves and glittering with stardust. The back was open, but the entirety of the spine was drawn with a chain of the moon’s cycle.
“Oh my, Valine…” Jacira said softly. “King Malik is going to tear that thing right off of you.”
It was perfect. Maybe even made for her.