Chapter 25
Nikator probably hadn’t expected Biyu to drag him to the southern gardens.
The last time she had been up these twisted paths was when Drakkon Muyang had told her Jian would marry her.
She avoided the pergola where everything had transpired last time, and they took a different path.
The palace gardens were so vast that they were lost in the thicket of cherry blossom trees and fragrant flowers.
Away from anyone who might have also disappeared into the night with a lover.
Nikator held her hand lightly, his fingers brushing along her knuckles from time to time.
The summer air was cool against her warm skin, and the sky was peppered with stars.
The moon shone brightly, lighting their path in sheets of silver.
Crickets and insects buzzed. The night was calm, beautiful even.
It had been a long time since she had felt such peace. She pushed aside all her worries and everything that had bothered her and just focused on the now.
On how large and calloused Nikator’s hand was. On how the gentle breeze felt against her cheeks and neck. On how being this close to him sent a host of butterflies fluttering in her lower belly.
“Do you think anyone will notice that I’m gone?” she asked, unable to meet his gaze.
“I doubt it. They will likely think you wanted to retire for the night.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Her words came out small.
She didn’t know why she was suddenly so shy. It wasn’t like they were doing anything other than strolling through the gardens, but she felt awkward after admitting that she wanted him—and then being promptly interrupted before he could even say it back. If he even meant to say it.
Or maybe she was having too little confidence in herself. Hadn’t he told her that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met? That she lit up his world with vibrant colors? That she plagued his thoughts?
Perhaps it was time for her to grow a little. Just like these trees and flowers, which looked so different than when she was a young girl.
Biyu spotted her destination before he did, and she couldn’t help the smile that lifted her lips.
She pointed to the small pond surrounded by an array of dragon and serpent statues.
A bridge led to the center of the water where a pergola sat.
“There,” she said, tugging his hand as they crossed the distance. “I used to love coming here.”
It was well-kept, unlike in her memory, where no one had cared to maintain it that well.
Her father had had little care for the gardens, and hadn’t hired as many gardeners in these parts.
She padded over the bridge, her footsteps light, while Nikator’s creaked over the wood.
Fireflies danced between them, blazing up in beautiful greens, and intermingling with the gentle winds.
Even the floor of the pergola was polished and clean; stone benches were pushed to either side of the octagonal structure.
Moonlight lit the space in silver rays. Biyu released his hand and went to one of the banisters; the surface of the pond was undisturbed.
Water lilies were scattered along in no particular pattern, and she could make out movement beneath the darkened surface.
She could imagine the colorful fish that inhabited these waters.
She had once enjoyed swimming here and pretending to be a hunter catching prey.
She told Nikator just that, and a wry smile pulled on his soft mouth.
“I can’t imagine you as a hunter,” he said, and then with a snort of laughter. “But wouldn’t fisher be a more appropriate term?”
Her cheeks warmed. “I was a child.”
“All right, all right. But I see your proficiency in the Huo language has changed little since you were a child.” There was a teasing quality to the cadence of his words that made her roll her eyes.
She pushed his shoulder. “I have a better grasp of the language than you.”
“Are you sure about that? Because last time you said something about tiger stripes that sounded strange to my foreign ears. What was the phrase you said again? A tiger who doesn’t know—”
“Enough!” Biyu reached forward and covered his mouth with her hands; more warmth spread over her cheeks—this time from embarrassment. She didn’t want to remember her previous blunder and the confidence she had delivered her line with, only to realize moments later that she had messed it up.
She could feel his smile—or smirk, more like—beneath her fingers, and it took her a second to realize how inappropriately close she was to him. How his breath slipped between her fingers, how her body was almost flush against his. She began to move away, but he grabbed her waist before she could.
Her hands trailed down to his chest; not because she necessarily wanted to feel the impossible hard muscular planes, but because she didn’t know where else to keep them. This was all so new to her, and yet it felt right.
“You tease me too much,” she murmured, glancing at the water beyond the pergola. She could make out the buzzing insects flying over the surface of it through the slats of the railings surrounding the structure.
A quiet lull fell over the both of them. Nikator brushed his knuckle over her jaw. A ripple of fiery sensation followed the movement and she inhaled sharply when his thumb swept over her lower lip.
“You look beautiful when you blush. Teasing you is the only way I can get you to loosen up,” he murmured ever so softly.
She could already feel her face growing hotter. She blushed way too much around him, with or without the teasing.
“There are other ways to make me blush that don’t involve annoying me.”
“I annoy you?”
“Only sometimes.”
“I’ll take that over hatred any day.”
Biyu fiddled with her necklace to keep her hands busy, and then remembered the way he had placed it around her neck and the words he had spoken to her.
How he had called her his wife. The memory made her stomach flutter and her chest clench.
She found that she didn’t dislike the notion of being his wife. Even if … it was all a magical mistake.
For a moment she tried to forget who they were, how they were on opposite sides of a battle—his loyalties lying with the emperor and hers with her brother—and how they should hate each other instead of wishing to kiss one another.
But as much as she tried to will everything away, she couldn’t.
There was just too much bad blood between them.
She could still remember the fear that had jolted through her the night the throne was usurped.
The blood that had coated the floors. The screams. The horror as she watched her family members die.
The unmistakable fear that had drenched through her being when she met a pair of sapphire eyes and the haunting words that chilled her down to her soul.
“Do you, too, wish to resist His Majesty’s claim to that wretched throne?”
She couldn’t forget the fact that they were enemies. The fact that he would kill her if he knew what she was up to. And the fact that they were never supposed to be here like this.
She had kissed the man who’d ruined her.
Another moment passed and, eventually, they found themselves sitting on one of the stone seats.
Nikator took up most of the space, his massive form dwarfing her and the bench.
It was almost comical the way he took up so much room.
Her shoulder and thigh touched his; her body betrayed all logic and reacted to the small contact, heat curling in her belly.
A soft patter of rain disturbed their silence.
Biyu clutched her knees tightly until her knuckles turned white and bloodless. A bluish-silver flash of lightning, followed by the crack of thunder, lit the pergola and she released a ragged breath. Her nerves pulled taut and doubts began settling in.
What was she even doing here?
Why had she kissed him? Not once, but twice?
All the things he had confessed to her—that she was beautiful, that she was vibrant, that he couldn’t stop thinking about her for years—was that all it took to unravel the hatred she had caging her heart? Was that all it took to crumble her resolve?
Shame, guilt, and a maelstrom of negative emotions fogged her thoughts.
Nikator’s hand lightly rested on hers. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. Everything. Particularly, you. But she didn’t say that; instead, her panic swelled and she whispered, “We should go back.”
If he appeared disappointed, he didn’t show it. He only nodded curtly, then waved at the brewing storm. “Let’s wait until the rain settles.”
They were impervious to the worst of the storm due to the roof, but a heavy gust sprayed them from time to time.
The temperature dropped until there was a hint of chill in the wind, but it was still warm enough not to warrant huddling together.
Biyu swallowed nervously and laced her fingers together, unwove them, and then did it again.
She noticed the way his gaze lingered on her, and her skin erupted in gooseflesh.
The rain and winds continued to lash at the skies, the downpour growing in intensity. They would likely be here for a while if they were planning on waiting for the storm to pass.
“What … are we doing here?” she finally asked.
Nikator stretched his long legs in front of himself, and crossed his ankles casually. “We’re waiting, princess.”
“And what does that accomplish?”
“Hm?” He canted his head as if she had said something strange. “It accomplishes us … not getting wet?”
She chewed on her lower lip and couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She didn’t even know why she was talking to him—there was no reason for her to converse with her enemy.
There was no reason for her to be in any giddy, flirty mood with him.
And yet she yearned to fill this space with his voice. With his attention on her.