Chapter 55 - Glory #2
I looked down at the shirt the captain had given me after Cammon and I had finally emerged from his quarters on the second day of our return journey.
It was plain aged cotton, shapeless and thin with wear.
The leather breeches were riddled with holes.
I might have shrugged off appearing like this in front of His Majesty, but for what I was about to do, I would have preferred something a bit more… alluring.
To make myself feel more human at the very least, I scrounged through my pockets for some stray hair pins and put my long tresses up in a loose bun.
Only when the footman cleared his throat, reminding me that we’d been stopped outside the estate for a good stretch of time, did I realize I was seeking excuses not to get out of the carriage.
My stomach flurried with so many emotions I couldn’t pin them down, and I wondered if Cammon was aware of them. If he was inside wondering what had sparked this maelstrom of feelings. If he was laughing at me. If he was even here.
I drew in a breath, accepted the footman’s hand, and stepped down onto the crushed rock. The same place I’d stopped on my last visit, also working up the courage to knock on the door.
“Do you need me to wait for you, Mage Dolan?” he asked, sounding so bored I was impressed he bothered to ask.
“No, thank you.”
He nodded, closed the door, and stepped onto the back of the carriage, which set off down the lane. I stared after it, realizing once it rounded the bend that maybe I should have checked to see if Cammon was home before I sent them away.
But no matter. If he wasn’t, the long walk back to my apartment would give me a chance to clear my head and start stitching up the void in my chest he would have left behind.
I climbed the steps to the main door and knocked on the maple with its vine pattern. At this time of night, gas lanterns lit the front steps, casting a soft golden glow over the antiquated-looking entrance—a sharp contrast to the sunlight that had ghosted across it on my first visit.
But the face that answered the door was the same.
Right down to the expression of polite civility.
No surprise showed in the housekeeper’s expression despite the hour, my attire, or my lack of invitation.
After all Cammon’s stories, I felt like I knew her, which made it possible for me to work up my courage and say, “Good evening, Mrs. Taylor. Is he in?”
She took my knowledge of her name in stride, and I wondered how much it would take to shock her. “He is, Mage Dolan. Please follow me.”
My heart leapt into my throat, and my palms broke out in a sweat. He hadn’t left yet.
I rubbed my hands against my thighs and followed her up the stairs and down the corridor towards his office.
My first time through, I’d disdained the emotion-inducing decor, believing he was simply finding ways to evoke an easy meal.
Now that I’d come to know the demon behind the reputation, I recognized the parts of this place that meant something to him and the parts he ignored.
His spiced scent was everywhere, but strongest by the window that overlooked the woods out back and very faint in the long gallery filled with portraits of sensual escapades.
I spotted the trophies he’d mounted along the way, their positions making it clear which ones were important and which were there to show the world that his reputation had been earned.
It became clear to me that what he’d said was true: This estate was hardly a home to him. More a place to rest his head between adventures. I doubted he’d much mind leaving it behind.
We passed the painting that had made such an impression, and I stopped again, taking a few seconds to compose myself but also to lose my thoughts in the beautiful eroticism of the piece. Something that carried so much more meaning for me now that I’d experienced it for myself.
My heart rate picked up at the idea that this scene might be more than a dream—might become more than a memory.
First, I needed to work up the courage to walk into that office.
Mrs. Taylor showed no sign of impatience or encouragement, but she also didn’t knock, giving me the opportunity to change my mind and flee if I needed to. I could have hugged her.
Finally, I nodded, and she rapped gently on the dark, panelled wood.
“Come in,” Cammon’s voice came from inside. He sounded rough. Exhausted, frazzled. I pictured his hair mussed, a tumbler of brandy on the desk in front of him. The image made my heart patter that much faster.
“Someone to see you, sir.”
“At this hour? Who the fuck would bother me in the middle of the—”
I stepped through the doorway, and he choked on the rest of his sentence.
His crimson eyes speared me with their intensity, and I was struck by how closely reality meshed with my prediction.
He’d changed his clothes, but his white shirt was half untucked, open at the neck.
His chestnut hair was tousled as though he’d run his fingers through it many times, and sure enough he held a tumbler in his hand.
I suspected the drink and the papers strewn before him were the reason he hadn’t sensed my arrival.
“Should I see the young lady out, Master Cammon?” Mrs. Taylor asked, and I swore I detected the faintest hint of amusement behind her detached tone.
With his gaze fixed on me, he knocked his tumbler against the side of the desk in his rush to put it down, splashing the liquor across the mess of papers.
“No. No, Mrs. Taylor, that’s all right. Thank you.
” He stared at me, the pulse in his neck quickening, his breaths speeding up.
Then he blinked and looked at his housekeeper as though remembering she was still in the room.
“Please feel free to go to bed. Get some sleep.”
The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile that was there and gone. “Of course, sir. Good night.”
She gave me a slight nod, then closed the door behind her, leaving us alone together.
“You’re here.” His words came out in barely a whisper as he came around the side of the desk, but he stopped a metre away.
“So are you,” I managed to reply. My voice came out more wobbly than I would have liked, and I caught myself wringing my hands. I forced them by my sides and nodded to the brandy-spattered papers. “You got what you were looking for?”
He frowned in confusion and followed my gaze, then his eyes widened. “I did. It’s all here. These are copies. The originals are on their way to my father.”
“Congratulations.” I cleared my throat. “When do you leave?”
The frown returned. “Leave?”
“For Karhasan. To take up your mantle. You must be eager.”
His expression cleared, and his gaze landed on mine. “I don’t plan on going back. At least, not to be prince.”
My heart soared, all my hopes tumbling around me like falling snow, catching in my hair and stroking my eyelids. The temptation was great to be consumed by them, but I did my best to tamp them down, not wanting to assume until I had a better understanding of what he meant.
He stepped towards me, his large, graceful body devouring the space between us, until he stood only a few inches away. He looked like he was about to take my hand, but he clenched his fists by his sides instead as if to steel himself.
“I love you.” He said it with such simplicity, such certainty, that the words drove through my middle, a bolt of lightning that lit me up from within and left me breathless.
“I’ve been giving myself excuses to keep moving all my life, never settling,” he continued, inky blackness drifting around the edges of his eyes.
“I was raised to believe love was a weakness, but my love for you gives me the strength to tear this whole fucking world apart. I was brought up to believe my people would kneel before me, but my only wish now is to kneel before you. You have given me a reason to give up my wandering. To stay right where I am. With you. If I can draw you out of your library once in a while.” He dropped his gaze, and I tasted his nervousness. “If you’re interested.”
I bit down on my smile, sure that if I allowed it free rein, it would light up the entire room. The entire estate. Any demons in Golthwaine would taste my joy. But not yet.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” I said instead, and nearly laughed over the puzzled expression that crossed his face, my soul warming at the hint of hurt and worry. Without words, I heard his questions. Did I mean to reject him? Turn my back on everything we’d been through together?
With no intention of letting him suffer, I reached out and took his hand. He remained stiff, waiting. “Your estate is wonderful, Cammon, and I could see you maybe, in time, settling down here. But not yet. No, I would much rather we go off and be explorers together.”
Hope blazed in his eyes, so similar to the emotion I’d tucked away that I finally allowed mine to travel through the bond, morphing from a delicate uncertainty into a glowing confirmation.
“Buttons…”
The palm of his hand was warm on my cheek, and I leaned into it. The blackness in his eyes spread across his crimson irises until only a few shots of red remained.
“I turned down the job,” I said. “And I gave up my post on the council. Evaniel could still call me back if there’s an emergency, but I think he knows it would have to be a pretty big one to need me.
Especially now that I’ve fallen in love with a demon prince who would stand by me if he tried to take advantage.
” His eyes gleamed at my admission, and my smile widened.
“The amulet worked, Cammon. The tensions with the fae can settle, and you and I… We can do whatever we want.”
The last of the red vanished, and he tugged me closer, his gaze travelling over my face. His lips glistened with lingering brandy, and I licked mine, wanting to savour it.
“What do you want, Buttons? Where do you want to go?”
Him. Everywhere. Anywhere.
I smiled up at him. “Didn’t you mention something about a dragon-steel sword?”
Cammon’s wings blotted out the light spilling from the wall lamps as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him.
He nuzzled the tip of his nose against mine and caught my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “I have a dozen books on the subject if you’d like to go through them.”
“Now that, princeling, is how you woo me.”