Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
SENAN
THEN
Tuesday.
The only day of the week that feels worth living.
The only day I spring from my bed and dress before the peach light of dawn washes over the clouds below the castle balconies. The only day the smile on my face doesn’t feel forced or placating. I break my fast in my room, as has become my routine on these glorious mornings. No sense letting anyone interrupt and ruin what promises to be a wonderful day. I shower and shave, taking more time to select my clothes than I would for one of the many trivial “grand” events my brother insists on throwing. He has slipped into his role of king seamlessly, which is a blessing, I suppose, since it means he has been far too busy ruling the kingdom to worry about my comings and goings.
An impatient rap rattles my door right as I’m about to step onto the balcony.
Do I answer or slip outside and pretend I didn’t hear?
The person knocks again. When Boris calls my name, my stomach twists. What could he possibly want at this hour? Not that I intend to find out. I told Allette I’d meet her by eleven and don’t plan on being late.
The balcony it is.
The moment I step outside, Sergeant Bilson lands with an ominous thump, the shadow of his navy wings stretching over me like a storm cloud. Why is he here with me instead of tailing Aeron?
Bilson offers no word of greeting, polite or otherwise, only a clipped, “The king wishes to speak with you.”
Unlike the other guards, this one refuses to take a bribe, which is damned inconvenient. “The king will have to wait.”
“Is that so?”
Hearing Boris’s voice from behind me leaves my heart sinking. The smile I offer him is nowhere near my normal Tuesday smile. “King Boris. What brings you to my room?”
His hair is tied in its usual leather queue, and his black-on-black attire is impeccable as always. “A representative from Nimbiss arrived late last night. Seeing as he is from your future kingdom, I thought it would be prudent that you join us for our meeting.” His slashing brows arch as he lets his graze rove over my plain clothes. In my defense, it’s far easier to blend in when one is not dressed like a prince. “Unless there is somewhere more pressing that you need to be,” he finishes through pursed lips.
This feels like a test. Unfortunately, I’ve never performed well on exams. “As much as I would love to, I have a meeting already scheduled this morning. Can the representative be put off until after dinner?”
The way his nostrils flare belies his friendly tone. “Why don’t I go check for you? I am but your humble servant, after all.”
Sure, the snide comment is laced with a healthy dose of sarcasm, but it really would be brilliant if Boris could do me this favor. “That would be wonderful.” Now to lose Bilson and get my day back on track.
I start for the balustrade, dropping the glamour on my wings and letting them stretch at my back. In no time at all, I’ll be losing myself in Allette’s embrace, sampling the jasmine perfume on her skin, this castle and these infuriating people nothing more than a distant memory.
Boris clears his throat. “I don’t suppose this meeting of yours is taking place across the river.”
Shit . My footsteps still. When I glance over my shoulder, his expression gives nothing away. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”
“Because one of the guards reported that he saw you leaving a tower there last Tuesday.”
I could’ve sworn I lost my guards at the temple. Had one of them stumbled upon my whereabouts accidently, or had I been followed? Not that I can ask my brother outright. Is that why Bilson is here? Has he been reassigned to me?
“I told him he clearly must be mistaken,” Boris goes on, oblivious to the panic squeezing my lungs. “My brother wouldn’t be foolish enough to become entangled with anyone living on the city’s west side.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“But we can continue this conversation at a more convenient time. Have a good meeting. I’ll see you at dinner.” He twists and starts for the door.
I can’t very well go to Allette now, can I?
What will she think when I don’t show after I promised I’d be there? What if she wrongly believes I am no longer interested in her company after bedding her?
Of all the days for this man from Nimbiss to arrive…
There is only one thing for me to do. Glamouring my wings, I return to my room. “Boris, hold on. It would be rude to ask the man from Nimbiss to wait, especially after he traveled all this way. My meeting can be rescheduled.”
Although Boris smiles, the look doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Excellent.”
The door swings wide, but before I step through, I glance back toward the western horizon.
I’m coming, Allette.
Don’t give up on me.
The meeting took all fucking day and a good part of the evening. If you were to ask me what it was about, I couldn’t tell you. Every hour felt like a year, and when Boris requested I join him and the representative for after-dinner drinks, I didn’t have a good reason to refuse.
So I drank and stewed and worried until I could stand it no more, and then I returned to my room only to find two guards on the balcony, neither of whom I recognized.
It’s late, and Allette is probably asleep, so there is no sense going to her now. I flop onto my bed and try to rest but end up tossing and turning until dawn. By the changing of the guard, I’m already dressed and in the solar, ready to sneak away.
When the coast appears to be clear, I leap off the lower balcony and disappear into the cottony clouds, flying faster than I’ve ever flown before, bypassing the market and taking a circuitous route to Allette’s tower.
But when I reach the river, the reality of the situation strikes like lightning.
If that guard knows exactly which tower I’ve been visiting, who’s to say that Boris doesn’t have another man or two watching her tower now?
How can I go back?
How can I not?
The thought of never seeing her again robs me of my next breath. What the hell am I going to do?
The answer to all my problems comes on creaking hinges.
When I glance across the street, a single beam of sunlight falls upon the sign for the Nag’s Head Inn.
The proprietor within takes one look at my purse full of gold and hands over two keys.
When I ask to borrow an ink pen and a piece of parchment, he produces both from his desk drawer. I write Allette a note and tuck the key inside, and the man agrees to have his son deliver both.
I climb the creaky stairs, hating everything about this place. Allette deserves more than dark hallways and musty bedrooms, but at present, my hands are tied. This is only a temporary solution. After a good night’s sleep, I’ll come up with something better.
I sink onto a bed with sheets the color of rust and wait, hoping Allette gives me a chance to explain.
An hour passes before the door to the adjoining room eases open.
I launch to my feet, my heart in my throat as Allette steps into the room and lowers the hood she wears that conceals her cerulean waves.
“You came.” In hindsight, asking her to drop everything for me wasn’t fair, but my innate selfishness won out, as it always does.
Her hands fall in front of her, twisting and wrenching her littlest finger. After all that has transpired between us, I’d hoped she would have moved beyond her nervousness. “I wasn’t going to. But I know what it’s like to be left hanging and wanted to give you more courtesy than you gave me.”
Nothing like getting straight to the heart of the matter. Her anger and irritation, while warranted, cut like a serrated blade. “I’m dreadfully sorry for yesterday. I was called into an unexpected meeting that I couldn’t escape.” Boris and I have never been on what I would consider “good” terms, but if that meeting costs me Allette, I will never forgive him.
“Apologies aren’t necessary. You are not beholden to me. You took your pleasure and gave me mine. Our arrangement has come to a natural conclusion.”
“You don’t mean that.” She can’t. The only conclusion that seems natural is the two of us being together for eternity. “When I said I loved you, I meant it.”
Her pursed lips flatten, as if my love is not a joy but a burden. “You only think you love me.”
Could this need in my bones be driven by lust and nothing more? No. I’ve tasted lust—drowned in it. The moment I’d spent myself, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with the women I’d been with. Nothing against them, they were all lovely in their own right, and I wish them well, but I haven’t spared any of them a second thought.
Unlike Allette.
My desire—my need—for her consumes me.
My head shakes even as my heart swells with confidence. “No, Allette. I know I love you as surely as I know I will never love another.”
Still, she does not smile. If anything, it looks as if she is on the verge of tears. “I’m certain the feeling will fade.”
“Then I shall fade with it.” Without her, I’d wilt like a flower without the sun. “Stay with me. Please?”
She drags her fingers beneath her eyes, clearing the tears limning her lashes. “Even if I wanted to stay, I’m no good to you today. My quarterly cycle has begun.”
No good to me? Gods, what a fool I am.
Allette believes I am only interested in her body.
And why wouldn’t she? I literally rented a room for us to share for an hour. I should’ve asked her to come to the royal solarium so we could spend the morning lounging beneath the flowers, conversing over trivial things. Should’ve asked her to meet me at Polaris Temple so I could worship her.
Because as much as I love her body, I love her mind and her heart even more.
She holds out the key I sent, but instead of taking it, I pat the mattress next to me. “Sit with me.” If only she would step closer so I could smooth the wrinkle between her brows. “I haven’t seen my girl in over a week, and I am dying to hear how she fared.”
“ Your girl?”
“Mine.” Simple as that.
She sinks down next to me, still too rigid, leaving too much space between us for my liking. I slide an arm under her, dragging her to my side. After a moment of hesitation, her head falls to my shoulder, her hair tickling my chin.
After a little prodding, Allette tells me about a new dress that her aunt purchased which she loathes and afternoon tea with two of her classmates. By all accounts, they’re mundane stories, yet I am enraptured. I could listen to her voice forever and never tire.
“How was your week?” she asks when she finishes a particularly enchanting story about her visit to the mountain park.
“My week was dull.” And speaking of life in the castle only reminds me of the cage to which I must return. I want to learn more about her, to know Allette Rittey better than anyone else in this realm. What she likes, what she loathes, all her hopes and fears.
When she shifts her weight, one of her silken curls falls over my hand, and I coil the luxurious strands around my finger. “When you dream at night, what do you dream of?”
Her short nails click against my shirt’s buttons. “Mostly about the future.”
I’ve never seen the point of dreaming about my own future when it has been set in stone since I was a child.
“What about you? What do you dream of?” she asks, peering up at me through thick lashes, her eyes wide and wishful.
That’s easy. “I dream of you.”