Chapter 16 Des
Des
Des walked back toward the Iron Fortress with Aurelie’s sketch clutched in his hand. He hadn’t taken the time to study it,
hadn’t even really thought it through when he took it. But the moment he saw it resting on a tea tray, he’d known it was something
dangerous, the same way he knew when a shadow contained a hidden demon. It had been far too easy to confiscate it while he
pretended to inspect the smudge on her forehead.
A small, distant part of him felt some guilt for using her naivete against her. He knew she’d likely never been that close
to a man before, and while physical proximity was not something Des sought out, he was also used to it.
But his touch had clearly elicited a reaction in Aurelie. Her pupils had dilated to take up nearly all of her green irises,
and a flush had crept up her exposed neck all the way to her hairline. No wonder she kept it covered most of the time. Only
a few bared inches and she was no longer the persnickety schoolmarm, but something softer, compliant. He had a feeling she’d
never let him get that close to her if she were dressed in her usual armor.
Or perhaps it was simply that he’d caught her off guard.
He could still feel the softness of her skin beneath his calloused fingers, the silkiness of her damp hair.
The scent of her soap lingering in the air between them, pulling him closer.
He imagined the inviting gap between her parted lips, the temptation to fill it with his own almost overwhelming.
He despised her for all of it.
Des admired strength, integrity, loyalty. He would never marry as a member of the Iron Guard, but if he were to find a companion,
she would be everything Aurelie was not. Disciplined and self-sacrificing, not idle and self-indulgent. Someone who wouldn’t
spend their time doodling by the fire with a porcelain tea service at their side.
And so what if Aurelie’s scent and softness had triggered a response in him as well? True, it was unusual for Des to feel . . .
well, anything. But novelty could illicit arousal. It wasn’t any sort of indication that he was attracted to her.
And even if he was, physical desire was a need to be met as efficiently as hunger or exhaustion. Aurelie likely wanted the same things as all
the tittering civilian girls: romance; chivalry; love letters; flowers. All things that Des had neither the time for, nor
the interest in pursuing.
To think he’d gone there with the sincere intention of apologizing. He should have trusted his instincts all along. He’d pass
this drawing over to Commander Yew and get back to work, like he kept saying he would.
He swore when he saw Daisy leaning against his bunk. He hadn’t told her where he was going, which was an error in hindsight.
If he’d told her he was going to train, she wouldn’t have questioned it.
“Where have you been?” she asked, glancing at the sketch still clutched in his hand. He’d meant to go straight to Yew’s office,
but his feet had taken him to the barracks instead. Odd.
Des knew he could lie, and he also knew that Daisy would know he was lying and then pester him for the truth for the rest of the day. “I went to visit Aurelie Blake.”
Daisy’s eyes went wider. “Again? My word, Des, two visits in less than twenty-four hours. You’ve got it worse than I thought.”
He shouldered her away from his bunk, where he pretended to remake the corners of his already perfectly made bed. “I went
to apologize.”
Daisy barked a disbelieving laugh. “Hell froze over and I missed it?”
“Har-har. I threatened her last night. It was wrong. I wanted to make it right.”
“And did you?”
Des collapsed on his bed, undoing all his tucking and straightening. “I doubt it. But it did get more interesting.” He handed
the paper to Daisy, still staring at the bunk above him. “I stole this from her.”
Daisy was quiet as she perused the sketch. “What is it?”
“No idea. But she was drawing it when I got there. She seemed . . . rattled by my presence.”
“Rattled? Impossible. Why would she be nervous around the enormous member of the Iron Guard who threatened her last night?”
Des ignored the jab. “What do we know about her, Daisy?”
Daisy settled down next to him, holding the paper up so they could both look at it. “She’s a scientist. She likes understanding
how things work.”
That was a generous assessment. “She rarely leaves the university, but when she does, demons follow. She’s not afraid of them,
or of us. She’s clearly hiding something.”
They turned their heads toward each other. “Is she . . . ?” Daisy began.
Des felt his stomach drop. “She wouldn’t be that foolish. Would she?”
Daisy’s mouth twisted to the side, implying that she just might be.
Demons take him, was the girl inventing?
Commander Yew said the demon problem was worse all over Wisteria, not just in the capital. Even if Aurelie was making minor
inventions in her office, it couldn’t explain everything. But what if there were more people like Aurelie scattered throughout
the kingdom: intelligent but na?ve, far enough removed from the days of demon slaughter to forget it ever existed? People
with far too much time on their hands?
Des tore the paper from Daisy’s fingers, studying the sketch closer, but he couldn’t make sense of the door-like structure,
or the illegible scribbles in the margins. “I need to take this to Commander Yew.” He turned to her again, a sliver of doubt
worming through his gut. “Don’t I?”
“He’ll know you went to see her again, even though he took you off Aurelie duty.”
“But this—”
Daisy took the drawing from him gently. “I’ll turn it in for you, Des. He won’t care that I went to see her. He hardly knows
I exist.”
Des ground his molars together. Aurelie had been his responsibility, and he should see this through. Finish this assignment,
one way or another. Put an end to what would someday be a footnote in the story of his life.
He closed his eyes, which was a mistake. All he could see were shrewd green eyes, a pert nose, a mouth that made him lose his senses. He should have kissed her while he had the chance, because she’d been right: they were never going to see each other again.
Once Commander Yew knew the truth about Aurelie Blake, she wouldn’t be seeing anything but the inside of a prison cell for
a very long time.
He rose, unable to meet Daisy’s questioning gaze.
“Do it,” he said, and left like the coward he was.