Chapter Twenty
T he morning comes too soon. I try to pull the sheets over my head, but my muscles scream with the effort. Am I too old for a night of dancing? Everything hurts, including muscles I didn’t even know I had. My thighs burn and my neck and shoulders are in an invisible vice.
I reach out beside me but my hand only finds the cool sheets, not what I’m searching for. Was last night a dream? But the sweet ache between my legs tells me he was very real.
“Good morning. I thought I heard you moving, finally.” In surprise, I quickly launch a pillow toward Licia’s sing-song voice and vibrant footsteps, only for my shoulders to go stiff and my throw lands three steps in front of her. As she throws it back at me, I remember just where that pillow has been.
“What’s with you this morning?” There’s a lot more bounce to her already buoyant steps. “You’re practically floating.” I notice as she crosses the room to spread the curtains open wide.
“I know I’m not the only one who had a great night. You didn’t find your bed until late, I’m told.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively. “I saw you dancing with the bard. He can certainly make his way around the dance floor.” Was she at the moon festival? Or is she just talking about the ball beforehand ?
“I didn’t see you at the shore last night.” I sit up, wondering who else would’ve noticed.
“Oh, you wouldn’t have, I'm sure. Too busy staring into those seafoam eyes.” Her mocking tone does not escape me. “I’d be careful with that one, though.” She shakes out the curtains and looks at me over her shoulder. A second warning from her about him. And she’s the one who lives for the thrill, the one who always returns to our room in last night’s gown.
I pull the warm sheets up around me, remembering the feel of Thaddeus’ hands all over, pulling me close, the way his large hands splayed across the small of my back, grounding me.
“It was just dancing. Don’t forget, I’m recently widowed. I must act as such.” I lift my chin, but the memory of those hands, the warmth of his breath against my skin, and the heat between my legs makes me unsure of my status and how long I’ll want to hold onto it.
“And soon to be married once again.” The way she looks at me, and my reaction, tells me she knows Sturdevant has already left my mind.
“Have your fun. It’s clear Avicii showed you none.” Her words hit hard and low, the fact that she sees the truth so deeply.
“Is it all truths you see so readily? Or just those of the heart?” The question comes out before I realize how much depth it could actually have.
“I may appear flippant and shallow, but there’s more going on here than meets the eye.” She flips her hair at me and exaggerates her hips as she walks from the curtains and seats herself on the edge of the bed. The sun streams in, illuminating her from behind. Her comment comes off with her usual suggestive tone but I look at my sister differently for the first time. While I’ve been gone, she’s done more growing up than I have.
This, for some reason, brings flashes of her reaction at our first dinner together—when Father announced it would be me not her marrying, for a second time. I wince at the daggers she shot me that night, but now she’s the picture of happiness.
“You don’t really want to leave the castle.” I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out where she stands. She leans back on her arms across from me, like a barn cat caught with a mouse in her paws; her morning hair framing her face and cascading down her back like sunshine.
She waits a moment to answer, assessing me in the same way. “No. I do not. I wouldn’t have minded a bit of adventure for once, don’t get me wrong, but I’m more useful here, where all my birds sing to me. And although it would be something to have someone with information all the way in Etos, your letters didn’t come half as often as I’d hoped when you were off in the mountains. So either we’ll have to work on those skills of yours or we’ll have to find an alternative.” She pats my leg and sashays out of the room, leaving me to wonder how much her and her birds really know.