Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Lorenzo
I didn’t think I’d ever have anything in common with Lady Fausta or Vicerine Bianca. But glimpsing their pinched faces across the ballroom, I think they’re just as displeased with Marclinus’s current choices as I am, if for very different reasons.
He has six potential brides still in his macabre competition. All six of them are here in the ballroom. But this is his fifth dance with Aurelia while he’s only drawn the others onto the dance floor once or twice.
It’s got to be because of this morning’s near-catastrophe. If we’d found Aurelia even minutes later, Fausta might have managed to completely sabotage her chances regardless of our efforts to see her healed.
Marclinus is suspicious of her disappearance, so he’s pulling her closer, watching her, judging her. I’ve noticed Emperor Tarquin eyeing her more often than the others too .
But her rivals won’t see that as a bad thing. They’re simply peeved that he’s giving her more attention than he’s offering them.
What if they try to trip her up in some other way to get back at her?
Glancing around the edges of the dance floor, I spot Bastien halfway across the vast room, standing next to Neven. The shards of light that glint down from the dimmed chandeliers dapple both their forms.
I wait until Bastien looks my way and twist my hand at my side, indicating danger and the two women now outright glaring Aurelia’s way. He’s closer to them—and better equipped to intervene if we need to.
Bastien gives a slight nod. The flick of his fingers informs me that he’s already monitoring them, as is Raul.
All right. The court’s reigning snakes won’t have a chance to strike tonight.
That doesn’t help Aurelia out of the predicament she’s already in, though.
At the dwindling of the melody, Marclinus releases Aurelia—but not without one last stroke of his hand down her side and an open leer at her retreating back. I tuck my hands into the pockets of my trousers so no one can see them clench into fists.
Every particle of my body is clamoring to stride over there and take her hand, to draw her into a dance I’d like to believe she’ll welcome more. I tense my legs against the impulse.
We have to be careful. To engage her so blatantly in front of the whole court… I don’t want to give Tarquin or Marclinus any reason to wonder just how interested I am in the princess of Accasy. Would I be able to hide my attraction when I’m holding her in my arms ?
So I smother those feelings, as much as it feels like I’m suffocating with the effort. I watch as one of the marchions carefully invites her to a dance, darting wary glances toward the imperial heir in case Marclinus decides to intercept him.
It’s obviously caught everyone’s notice that he’s become particularly fixated on Aurelia tonight.
Bianca starts to move toward the uneasy couple—and appears to trip over her own feet. She sprawls on her hands and knees and whirls around, but no one’s near enough to have caught her ankle.
Raul stands nearby with his back to her and his hand loose at his side. A faint smile crosses my lips.
The darkened ballroom gives him plenty of space to work.
Another song ends, and the urge grips me again. But Marclinus goes straight back to Aurelia, snatching her hand and twirling her toward him.
She smiles at him and moves in time. She doesn’t recoil when his hand drifts down to squeeze her ass or when he tugs her so close her breasts graze his chest, even as my teeth set on edge.
But there’s no life in her expression. It’s as blank as a doll’s.
I’m not sure anyone who didn’t really know her would pick up on the signs, but I’ve seen Aurelia laughing and awed and angry. I know how her eyes can spark and her cheeks flush with passion.
I also know the slightly glassy look that’s come into her eyes now, as if she’s drifted off behind her compliant fa?ade. She’s pulling away from him in the only way she can without him realizing.
How much more is he going to harass her this evening?
How much more can she take before something crumbles? She was lying in the woods with multiple broken bones at the start of this day.
Resolve rushes up through me so sharp and certain I can’t deny it too. Raul and Bastien will do their parts. I can look after her my own way.
The night is getting late. It won’t be strange for her to take her leave now. I simply need to give her permission.
I ease along the edge of the dancing crowd. When Marclinus finally releases Aurelia again, I’m right within her line of sight as she turns around.
With a surreptitious gesture by my hip, I motion her toward the door, hoping she gets my intended meaning: You should leave, now .
The smallest twitch of her jaw is my only indication that she caught my message. She drifts toward one of the tables holding platters of appetizers and then meanders through the doorway as if on a whim, not with any particular purpose.
I wait through several thuds of my heart before ambling toward the room’s other entrance, aiming for the same nonchalant air.
When I reach the hall, Aurelia has already vanished from sight, but I can guess that she’s headed toward her chambers. I pick up my pace and catch sight of her around the bend.
At the thump of my footsteps, she glances back. A crease has formed in her brow.
I could wave her on toward her room and leave her be—but she must wonder why I signaled her in the first place. I don’t want to leave her worried.
This isn’t a good place to talk, and joining her in her bedroom probably isn’t wise. I pause and flick my hand in the direction of the library alongside the reading gesture I’ve shown her before.
Aurelia nods and sets off again, staying a good twenty paces ahead of me. I slow down now that I’m sure we’ll end up at the same place so she can pull farther away.
We pass a couple of servants, but there’s no reason for them to think the two of us are together. I lose sight of Aurelia completely for a minute, but when I duck past the library door, she’s waiting by one of the tables in the broad central aisle.
A quick glance shows no one else in the room at the moment, but I’d rather not take the chance of someone stumbling on our conversation. I usher her over to the repair room where my foster brothers and I have many of our private discussions.
At the tap of the closing door, I flick on the magical lantern. Aurelia takes in the worktable and the shelves of supplies with a curious look before turning to face me.
Her wild, sweet scent, like flowers blooming in a winter forest, drifts through the faint tang of binding glue. All at once, I find it difficult to do anything but gaze at her in the wavering light, taking in the soft planes of her face and the luster of her hair.
Her voice, hushed but urgent, breaks me from my reverie. “What’s wrong? Why did I need to leave?”
Of course she’s worried. My fingers flex, searching for the right gestures to convey my answer.
You weren’t happy with Marclinus. Here he can’t touch you.
Her eyes widen, some of the color draining from her tan face. “Was it that obvious I wasn’t enjoying myself? If he could tell?—”
I cut her off with a hasty shake of my head and a hitch of my pulse that I’ve panicked her even more. My hands whip through a simple message. I know you.
“Are you sure? ”
I nod emphatically and touch her arm in an attempt at reassurance, but she raises her hand to her face. “Maybe I should go back. He’s already on edge with me since this morning.” She hesitates. “But if it’s obvious I wasn’t simply turning in for the night, he’ll wonder why I left to begin with. Curse it all.”
I step closer so I can rest my hand on her shoulder, wishing the act didn’t feel so inadequate.
Aurelia drags in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I just— gods , I hate this whole spectacle he and his father have created. They’ve made marriage into a total perversion where nothing matters but pandering to his ego.”
I don’t know how to answer her frustration in any way other than my best attempt at a reassuring squeeze.
She lifts her head to meet my gaze, her chin steady. “It’s all right. I knew whoever I married, it’d be a political match. The point is what we offer each other. It’s only… I assumed there’d at least be a chance that some kind of love could grow out of it. I think Marclinus would laugh if I mentioned that hope to him. Maybe even slit my throat for suggesting getting groped and paraded at his side isn’t enough.”
It's not all right. She’s strong and determined and unyielding, but anguish rings through her voice and shines in her eyes. More pain and anger than she’s ever let me see before.
It feels like a gift. I have no idea how to repay it with anything that’d be remotely comforting.
If I could give her the hope she’s talking about, I would. There’s so much I’d want to say that I can’t.
I’m just as trapped as she is.
My free hand sketches through the air with the best I can offer. Nothing wrong with you. It’s all him. You are wonderful .
She understands well enough that a choked sort of laugh tumbles out of her. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt. Her deep blue eyes meet mine with something that might be an invitation or a plea or maybe a mixture of both.
Great God help me, I can’t do anything but answer it.
My mouth crashes into hers as if it couldn’t belong anywhere else. Aurelia kisses me back hard.
Just like that, everything is her. Her warmth against my front, her breath tart with a trace of wine, her encouraging whimper working its way up her throat.
There’s something fiercer about this collision than the ones before. Her fingernails graze my scalp; her teeth nick my lip.
I’m lost in the need to get closer, to take in more of her, as if I can meld myself to her so well I’ll shield her from all the horrors of the world beyond this room.
My hands move of their own accord, sliding down to her thighs, lifting her onto the edge of the bare worktable. Her legs splay in my wake, the skirt of her dress riding up to her knees.
When I glide my fingers up her smooth calf, careful of the lingering scar from this morning’s wounds, Aurelia lets out a soft little growl and yanks my mouth back to hers. Her arm slings around my shoulders as if to lock me there with her.
There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I ease closer, my dick throbbing behind my trousers as I push against her bunched skirt.
I’ve had a tumble here and there—ladies of the court whose enjoyment of my music overrode my other deficits for the length of a brief fling. After the first few, my own enthusiasm waned when I realized they had no interest in anything other than how I played and how I could get them off.
It’s never been like this, like it is with Aurelia. Never been a passion so consuming every part of me aches with it.
When I cup her breast, her breath stutters into my mouth. With the swivel of my palm, her entire body quivers.
I’ve never felt like this with anyone before her, and Marclinus has never made her feel half as good as I am now. Triumph flares amid my eagerness before desire swallows everything up again.
I need more.
I glide my fingers along the neckline of her dress, and Aurelia leans into my touch. Through kiss after kiss, I ease the fabric down over her shoulder.
My lips travel with it. I tease the edges of my teeth over the edge of her jaw, her gasp making me twice as hard, and brand every inch of her neck. Following the path of her collarbone, I scoop my hand under dress and chemise together and lift her bared breast to my mouth.
The moment my lips close around her stiffened nipple, Aurelia gives a cry she can only partly stifle. She clutches my shoulder and the short strands of my hair, the clamping of her fingers urging me onward.
I’m not sure I’ve ever missed the tongue I gave up quite as much as this moment, but I can do plenty without it. I suckle her down before trailing my teeth across the pebbled nub, and her hips rock toward me.
I meet the motion, unable to stop myself from grinding into her through our clothes. My cock feels ready to burst. I shift my head to nibble my way to her other breast?—
And Aurelia nudges me backward.
It’s not quite a push, but firm enough that there’s no mistaking her intent. My heart constricts and my groin aches, but I draw back a few inches.
Both of our chests are heaving. Aurelia reaches for her skewed bodice, and I tug it back into place with a twinge of loss.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I—It’s not that I don’t want—To risk everything ?—”
I take her face between my hands and bow my head so our foreheads rest together.
I know. I know we shouldn’t be doing this at all. I know the little of herself she’s shared with me is already an unexpected prize.
How did this start with me simply wanting to ruin her, to have something Marclinus hadn’t gotten to claim yet, to steal what wasn’t rightfully mine the way Raul boasted about?
Maybe that desire isn’t totally gone. Maybe part of the ache inside me is the longing to have her want me more than him so much that she’d throw caution to the wind.
But mostly I just want her . I want to believe with all I have that she could be something right in this place where so much has always been wrong.
Assuming that’s true could be a mistake, though, couldn’t it?
She’ll never be mine. Not even here in this room where we’re alone, where I had her clinging to me and crying out with pleasure. Marclinus is here too, in the press of her hand returning the distance between us.
No matter what else happens, if she survives the trials, she’s going to marry him. She doesn’t like the idea, but she’ll do it for reasons beyond her own heart regardless. She’s never once pretended otherwise.
And I’ll have to watch her do it.
My emotions have tangled so much I don’t know how to pick them apart. Aurelia tilts her head to offer me one more kiss, but this one feels like an extension of her apology more than an act of passion.
She slides off the desk and reaches for the door. I let her go, not sure who I hate most for it.