Chapter 33 Nesrina slams a door. #2
Her entrance startled a maid cleaning the already pristine windows outside of the library. The woman jumped back from the glass and brandished her rag at Nesrina like a weapon. “Sorry, miss!” Her voice was startlingly loud. “Library’s closed for cleaning.”
“Oh, I—uh—that’s fine. Do you know, is the duke in his study?” Nes gestured to the doorway on her right and the maid relaxed. Apparently, they did not like to be bothered while working. She hadn’t noticed that before.
“I believe he is.” Her voice came out at a normal volume that time.
With a smile, Nes stepped into the miniscule hallway to Kas’s office, little more than an alcove, and paused, reminded of the time she’d been badgering him after he sent Rihan away. A blessing in disguise, she thought wryly. That scoundrel.
With that, Nes lifted a hand and rapped on the door, not bothering to disguise her knock as one of the staff’s. Either he’d open or he wouldn’t. And if he didn’t, she’d have to dance around the maids in the library to hop up on her favorite chaise and shout through the vent.
A thunk sounded from within.
She knocked again.
As she raised her hand for a third time, the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing the man she sought.
Kas stood there in a flowing white shirt, no jacket, no ink staining his chest. With his right arm, he braced the door frame.
Both of his sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and she watched as the muscles in his left forearm tensed and relaxed in time with the fist he kept making by his side.
Maybe this isn’t a good time.
He made no move to let her in, instead using his gigantic frame to block the open doorway. “Nes.”
“Kas.”
“Can I help you?”
He asked, she reasoned, before launching into her plea to borrow the Mystical Sciences Review.
When she finished speaking, he stared at her.
She stared back, until that became too much; what, with her heart threatening to dislodge from her chest and all.
She allowed her eyes to drop back to his arm.
Tense, release, tense, release. He was still making that damn fist.
Finally, Kas spoke, his voice flat, “Sorry, I don’t have it.”
“What?” She took a step back to look him in the eye more easily. “It was delivered just this morning. Where’s it gone?”
Tense, release, tense, release. “I threw it out, kalalitani.”
“Don’t call me that.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You threw it out?”
“Burned it.”
She leaned a little to the side, trying to see past him. She was pretty sure the fireplace hadn’t even been lit; it was sweltering outside. “You didn’t burn it.”
“I did. It was an accident.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Liar.”
“Nope.”
“Yes. What has gotten into you?”
“Sorry. I need to get back to work.” With that, the infuriating man took two steps back and shut the door in her face.
Thunk. The lock clicked into place.
Her jaw dropped open.
The duke hadn’t come out to visit her—the twins, rather—before or after their lesson. He also didn’t pepper her with questions during dinner, or needle her intentionally, as he was wont to do. Instead, his focus remained upon the children and his sister.
Have I done something wrong? Nes wondered for the umpteenth time as she paced her bedroom that evening.
She needed a distraction, something to busy her mind.
A book. Her bedroom shelves, though full, held nothing she wanted to read, and the text on the Old Tongue stared at her from its spot atop her side table. Not that one.
As she’d done so many times before, Nes stepped into the hall, off to the library.
“Oh!” Aylin startled as she rounded the corner. “I was looking for you.”
“You were? I’m heading to the library.”
“Very good.” She smiled, then turned and sped down the stairs.
“Did you need me for something?” Nes called, but the maid was gone. Peculiar.
She took the back stairwell, her favorite way to get to the books recently, since it allowed her to bypass Kas’s office. Padding down the flight, Nes was surprised to hear several sets of footsteps rush past the door at the base of the stairs. The library doors banged closed. Odd.
When she pushed open the wooden panel and stepped inside, nothing seemed out of order. Several candles were lit, as usual. Actually, all of the candles were lit, basking the room in flickering warmth that chased away the usual evening shadows.
Perfect. Initially, she planned to grab a book and retreat, but the ambiance was inviting, so she thought she might stick around to read for a while, in peace.
Turning right, she skimmed the shelves until someone cleared their throat up ahead, and she froze.
The only thing “up ahead” was her favorite lounge, tucked discreetly into the corner.
Perhaps the noise floated through the vent and Kas was pulling a late night in his office.
If only she could be so lucky. A shiny pair of boots followed by a long set of muscular legs swung out of the alcove. The bloody duke was folded up sideways in there, the way she liked to sit. She giggled, unbidden, at the image of him scrunched in the corner.
A light breeze wafted across the room, delighting her with his signature scent and wrapping her in a ghostly hug that dissipated a bit too quickly.
“Nesrina.” His words tumbled over, setting that ever-present ball of anxiety wriggling and shooting zaps of electricity from her heart to her core. The overflow sizzled down her arms leaving her fingers tingling.
Nes groaned, softly. Before she could grab a book—any book would do at this point—and retreat, he stood from the chaise and closed the gap between them.
“Nesrina,” he repeated, voice intense.
She stared at his boots, willing him to keep his magic at bay. If he decided that was the perfect moment to entangle his air with her . . . physically . . . she wasn’t positive she’d have the will to resist.
“Nes,” he whispered.
She looked up at him, then past him as her eyes caught on something different about the books on the far wall. What was it? It took a moment for her brain to catch on. They’d been rearranged.
Kas stepped to the side, observing her as she put the pieces together. Dozens upon dozens of books, all the green ones, in fact, had been shelved sideways, while others, still vertical, broke up the spaces between the stacks. She followed one line of spines, and then another.
Letters.
Two words. Two words were spelled out amongst the thousands of books.
Nesrina’s heart sputtered and her mouth fell open. She swung her gaze to where Kas had been standing, then down to where he knelt before her, a small dark box clasped in his hands.
“Nesrin—”
“No.” She threw her hands up, then slapped a palm over her mouth, taking several steps away. She shook her head, taking in those two words again: Marry Me? “No. No, no, no. No.”
A little smile quirked the corner of his mouth. He thought she was joking.
“Absolutely not. I won’t.”
His smile fell away as he pushed to his feet and stood before her, peering at her inquisitively. “Why not? I know you don’t want to be a mistress.” He shrugged.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Oh, he thinks it’s so simple, does he? Of course she didn’t want to be a mistress, but that wasn’t everything, that wasn’t all of it. “The lying, Kas! Because of the lying and manipulation!”
He took a step toward her but stopped when she held up a hand. Satisfied, she let it drop back to her side.
“Let me spell this out for you, because apparently it’s too much to grasp without help.
The symposium? Rihan Sarma? Your friendship with my father?
The dresses? Kas, you kept things from me.
You saw me years ago, and you never thought to tell me, not once.
Not until well after you’d brought me as your guest and coerced me into wearing that lened golden dress. ”
“I didn’t coerce you.”
She threw up her hand again, more forcefully this time, nearly smacking it into his chest.
He shut his mouth.
“The dresses! Let’s talk about the dresses, then. You bought me an entire wardrobe, Kas. You can’t do that. It’s not done. Gifts like that, they come with strings attached. Those clothes must have cost more than I make in a year.”
“Yet you still wear them.” He waved his hand at her choice for the evening, the deep blue gown embroidered with bronze.
It was indeed from the sneakily gifted wardrobe. But it was so beautiful . . . they all were. Though she’d be loath to admit it to him, her point still stood, leneteki. Nes clenched her jaw and stamped her foot. “Akkas Tilevir Kahoth—”
He shifted warily.
That’s right, I brought out the full name.
“You bought me an entire wardrobe, and you lied to me about where it came from. You let me embarrass myself in front of your sister—the queen! You seem to find enjoyment in manipulating me, in dressing me how you’d like, in coaxing me into joining you as and when you see fit .
. . how you see fit.” With both hands, she gestured down the length of her dress.
“It’s like—it’s like you think of me as an object.
” She finished with a huff and a great flourish, as she dropped her arms back to her side.
“I thought we already discussed all of that.”
“Discussed? Yes. Resolved? No.”
“Nes. I’m sorry.” He stepped toward her. She stepped back. “Join me for dinner tomorrow, just us, no one else. So we can resolve this.”
“No.”
“What more can I do?”
“That’s for you to figure out, not me.” She glared at him.
He shuttered his eyes and drew his arms tight across his chest. “Nes, I can’t help that we were born into different social classes.
I may have things to sort through regarding my apparently abhorrent treatment of you, but you also have shit to dig your way out of.
Why do you always assume I see myself as above you?
Or like there’s inherent differences between us because of the families we were born to?
Why do you always assume I’m trying to own you, when all I want to do is be around you, to protect you? I want to marry you, gods help me.”
That’s rude! They were supposed to be discussing him, not her. He’d struck a nerve, though she wouldn’t even acknowledge the idea of admitting it, at the moment. Her stupid heart was racing so fast she’d started seeing spots from the stress of it all.
“I don’t— It’s not that I— Ugh!” She threw her hands up. “I can’t do this!” Nesrina spun away, then thought better of her plan to retreat, and completed a strange full turn that left her facing the infuriating duke again.
His mouth quivered as his lips threatened to break into a smile.
“Stop that!” she scolded him, with a stomp—a small one. Too much stomping would be decidedly childish.
He bit his lips between his teeth, stopping his smile, per her request.
“First of all, I don’t need protection! What the fates would I need protection from? Second of all, you are a duke and I’m a tutor. There are no two ways about it.”
His lips popped free of his teeth. “If you marry me, you’ll be a duchess. Problem solved.” He shrugged, obnoxiously cool and collected given the circumstances.
Nes roared an unintelligible sound before spinning and stomping out of the library.
“I look forward to dinner tomorrow!” he called, apparently unfazed by her refusal.
The doors banged closed behind her.