Chapter 20 #2
Gerard’s gaze shifted from her to the jug and back again as the flap of the tent fell closed behind him and Lorelei’s rustling shield of thorns and magic grew around the silk to cage them in together.
This tent was perfectly spacious, but even so, his big figure seemed to draw all the energy in the room as he loomed over her, bringing back hot, perilous memories from hours ago. “A drinking game?”
She shrugged, yanking the cap off the jug with more violence than it required. Sometimes it hurt to resist temptation! “You must have played plenty of those at military academy, judging by the stories I’ve heard.”
“Stories of other men’s experiences, perhaps.” He lowered himself to the floor to sit across from her, cross-legged, in the soft light of the will-o’-the-wisps. “My time there was far less festive than you might imagine.”
His voice was perfectly steady and uninflected, but as she looked up from the newly opened bottle to meet his eyes, she caught sight of something in his expression that made her first response—“Even then, you were determined to make yourself a saint?”—die upon her lips, unspoken.
“Do you not drink?” she asked instead. Of course, she knew he would never drink to excess.
Still, she could swear that she had seen him sipping glasses of wine at various events across the years.
Or had he only been pretending? Sighing, she sat back, leaving the wine untouched between them. “Never mind. We don’t need to—”
“Explain the game,” Gerard said firmly, cutting off her retreat. “The alcohol wasn’t what I was referring to.”
Aha. He’d meant the games themselves, then. Lorelei’s mind flashed back to what he had revealed the day before about his time spent alone in his school library.
Gods, but children could be vicious to anyone who didn’t fit in! Biting down an entirely inappropriate wave of protective anger, she picked up the open jug and said, “Well, then. Consider this your initiation.”
The words came out in a throatier tone than she’d planned, and his eyes darkened in response.
Damn it, how was she supposed to stop flirting with him now, after so many years of practice?
Fighting the urge to inch closer, Lorelei continued as if she hadn’t sensed the erotic charging of the air around them.
“This is the simplest possible game to begin with. We’ll take turns, each of us asking a question.
In response, you may either answer honestly or drink.
But no lies may be spoken in the game. We both swear to it. ”
“Is that an official fae bargain?” Gerard’s voice was low and smooth, and it curled deep inside her.
Sylvana help me. “Yes it is,” Lorelei said firmly, and with her words, she felt the weight of old magic thicken the air above them, waiting to descend. “Do you agree to it as well?”
“I do,” Gerard said without hesitation.
The bargain was struck. Lorelei felt it land at all of her binding points—wrists, throat, heart—and fasten there, pinning her down with him in the soft light of the tent, with darkness gathered all around them.
“My turn first.” There were too many questions all jostling for precedence; the least important of all was the first to break free. “Why didn’t you accept Oberon’s offer?”
Pressure built in the air around them, waiting for his answer. The weight of the bargain pressed against them both.
Gerard didn’t even glance at the open jug between them. His steady gaze was fixed on her. “I wouldn’t leave you without a partner for this tournament, especially not to benefit him.”
“I…” The words thank you hovered, waiting to be spoken. Lorelei licked her lips, suddenly wishing that she had taken a sip of that wine.
“My turn,” said Gerard. “Why was it impossible to back out of the tournament in the first place, when you realized Lord Oberon was its host?”
Oh, that. Lorelei snorted out a humorless laugh. “Can’t you guess? If I broke my sworn word in public, I’d lose my entry to the fae realm forever.” It was the single unforgivable sin in fae culture. “You ought to approve of that rule, with your famous principles.”
“Mm.” His eyebrows compressed. “Your turn.”
Right. Time to borrow some of his skill at strategy and start thinking through her questions.
“What drove you to build such an unblemished reputation in the first place?” His fellow students might have shunned him at the academy, but the gods all knew he must have had more chances since then.
With his impressive figure and the even more impressive chain of military victories to his credit, offers must have been flung at him nonstop—and not only by her at their first meeting.
She was watching him closely enough to see his gaze slip down to the open jug … but then it shifted back to her, and he said evenly, “It was my only option.”
“That isn’t an answer.” Even the bargain itself agreed with her statement, pushing down hard against her skin and lifting the light golden hairs on his wrist with visible contact.
“No, I suppose not.” He drew a slow, deep breath before continuing. “When I was eight, my parents were executed for treason against the Empire.”
Really? She’d known there was some ancient scandal associated with them; she’d never guessed at that one. Holding her breath, she waited for him to continue.
“Their deeds were … scandalous. Corrupt. Conscienceless. And … infamous.” Each word dropped heavily into the charged air.
“The details were kept out of the newspapers at the time, for reasons of state security, but everyone knew the general idea, and I … very quickly was made to recognize that I, too, would be closely watched forever after, in case I should follow their example.”
Made to recognize? Lorelei frowned, leaning closer. “By the newspapers?”
“By them, too.” He hesitated, his jaw setting.
“The only reason I was allowed to survive was to fulfil the single mission I’d been left: to prove my family name was worth saving after all.
To prove myself and my loyalty true to the Empire, no false steps would ever be allowed.
My actions must always be above reproach. ”
Oh. Oh, the implications of that were … well, they were far too much for her to take in at this moment when it came to all of her hopeful plans for the future.
But for this one instant in time, she let herself forget all about strategy or planning as she said thickly, “You were eight years old when you were ‘made to understand’ that?”
He didn’t have to answer that second question; the bargain wouldn’t insist upon it. But his hard jaw lowered in a fractional nod, and breath billowed out of her.
She knew the weight of a lifelong mission at that age. She felt it more than ever as she gazed at the powerful, driven man before her and saw the young boy still inside him who had lost everything he’d loved and counted on and been left with an unbearable burden … just like her.
So much like her. How could they be so devastatingly twinned when the outside world had fated them to be enemies? When she looked at him now, every instinct she’d ever trusted fought to push her even closer—and insisted that was the only option that was right.
But if she followed her own sacred mission, without blinking …
“My turn,” Gerard said. “Why did you run from our kiss today?”
Lorelei’s hand shot out to grab the jug and lift it to her mouth without an instant’s hesitation. Sparkling fae wine cascaded down her throat, warmth prickled through her skin, and she cast a prayer to Sylvana that it would give her the strength to survive the rest of this dangerous game.
In the back of her mind, in ominous response, she heard the echo of a goddess’s low, pitying laughter.