39. Harlow
HARLOW
M y bedroom is dark when I step inside. The fire has gone out, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
A dark shape in the chair at the corner of the room makes me jump. But it’s just Henry’s bag, dumped there carelessly by a servant. My things had better be hanging in the closet, because I cannot abide my mother’s scolding about wrinkled dresses.
Henry will be back soon, which means I need to decide if I want to wait here to see if Aidia shows, or chance a visit to Bea to find out what she knows about the missing women.
I’m so restless. Going to Mountain Haven is the first time I’ve ever been more than a city away from my sister. While I know Aidia wasn’t hurt by the Drained, that doesn’t mean she’s not hurt at all. Until I can look at her again, I’ll be plagued by this same restlessness.
Swiping the poker from beside the fireplace, I prod at the coals to see if I can restart the blaze.
The steel scrapes against stone, but there’s no life left in the fire.
I’ll have to call someone to get it restarted.
In the meantime, I swipe matches from the mantel and light the three candles on the candelabra atop it.
The second after I blow out the match, I hear the sound of fabric swishing.
“Are you kidding me with this red lace, Harlow? I know you’re married, but this is downright indecent. ”
I turn at the sound of Aidia’s voice and dart to my closet. There she stands, pointing at a hanger holding some of the red lace undergarments Henry had made for me. The sight of her waggling her eyebrows at my underwear unknots something stuck in my chest.
“What’s the point of this? It covers nothing,” she says, flicking her finger over a tiny satin bow.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the point,” I counter.
Her voice is light, but she keeps her face in the shadows as she walks toward me.
I want to grab her and hug her, to bury my face in her hair and smell her floral scent. But she stops in the doorway. She’s keeping her distance.
When she finally tilts her face toward the light, I know why. Her whole left cheek is mottled with bruises, her lip split.
A sickening sense of familiarity hits me. I have seen this too many times before.
I force myself not to react, but I already know from her expression that my aura has slipped, surging out around me like a golden halo.
“My heart,” I rasp.
She smiles sadly. “My bones.”
“Our blood,” we say in unison.
She’s okay . She’s safe.
Except we have never been safe.
The tension that left me earlier returns.
I want to touch her, but I can tell by the way she moves so gingerly and keeps her face away from the light as she circles me that she can’t take it.
My heart is in my throat. I swear I’ve seen her looking worse, but something about her presence in my closet fills me with dread.
“I can’t stay long,” she says, glancing at the door. “Your husband’s arrival caused enough excitement for me to slip out without any of the servants noticing.”
“Did Rafe try to stop him?” I ask.
“Rafe wasn’t there. I didn’t want to meet him myself until I knew if you were okay.” She smirks. “And until I knew whether I should give him a hug or punch him in the face.”
I laugh.
Aidia shushes me. “You undersold him a bit, Low. You said he was tallish with dark hair . That man is devastating . What is he, seven feet tall? ”
I roll my eyes. “Six-foot-five max.”
Aidia fans herself dramatically. “And those muscles.” She blows out an exaggerated sigh.
“That coat must be Divine-blessed, because I swear one flex of his arms and it would be shredded. He looks like he could throw you around—and, frankly, you’ve needed a good fuck these last few years. You were getting pretty uptight.”
I glare at her. “I’ve had plenty of good fucks.”
Aidia whistles low, ignoring me entirely. “And those eyes. Bleeding woods! I’d be on my back day and night.”
I roll my eyes.
“How was the wedding? Did you really do a sex ritual?”
“Yes.”
“Did it hurt?” she asks.
A pleasant shiver runs up my spine as I recall that night. “Only when I wanted it to.”
Aidia’s jaw drops. “I knew it. Did you have fun?”
“Once I got over the weirdness of so many people watching. But there was this whole part where he had to give me an orgasm to get a blessing from Kennymyra in this ornate bed, and I came so hard I broke their centuries-old sigil.”
“What!” The word is part shrill laugh and part gasp.
“Aidy—hush!” I glance at the door, hoping Gaven hasn’t heard her.
She smothers her laugh with a hand. “Say more immediately.”
At her urging, I give the quickest recounting of the wedding events, and she listens with her jaw progressively becoming more slack.
“Oh, he is going to fall in love,” she says. “Without a doubt. That man has no chance. You’re too beautiful for him to resist. How has the sex been since?”
I lick my lips. “We haven’t?—”
“Harlow Catherine Carrenwell! That man gave you an ancient-sigil-breaking orgasm and you haven’t fucked him again?
” She points to the lingerie. “You have a closet full of the most intricate lingerie I’ve ever seen, and you haven’t used any of it.
” She scoffs. “What a waste! You don’t deserve to have the best boobs in the family if you’re not going to use them to seduce our enemies. ”
I stifle a laugh. “You’re right. I’m a terrible Carrenwell.”
Aidia’s bright smile slips into concern. “You promise you’re okay? ”
I nod. “I did sleepwalk one night and Henry found me on the balcony in the rain. I don’t remember ever sleepwalking before.”
“You did it when we were younger, remember?” Aidia says. “You used to relive things from your day. Dance lessons once. There were a few others, but I can’t quite remember. Maybe it will come to you if you try to remember the last time you were on a balcony?”
I frown. I really don’t, but there’s a hint of desperation in her voice and her eyes are clouded.
“Aidy, can you hang in there? Just until after Dark Star Festival.”
She cocks her head to the side. “I can hold out a day longer than Rafe. Always. You know this.” Her voice is full of forced lightness. “Speaking of the monster. I should go.”
She walks back into the closet and it takes a tremendous amount of restraint to not grab her and drag her into a hug, but her ribs are probably still bruised and I don’t want to cause her any more pain.
Aidia pauses with her hand on the passageway door. “Low?” Her voice is so serious, it sends a chill through me. “Tell Henry to go down on you like he’s trying to honor the Divine again, because I’ve never seen your aura look more radiant.” She smirks at me over her shoulder.
I pull off my silk slipper and toss it at her. It hits the door as she wrenches it closed behind her.
It was good to hear her laugh—to fall back into easy teasing.
I blow out three slow breaths, but my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I saw her bruises. The room feels too hot and stuffy.
Henry should be back any minute. If I don’t go now, I’ll lose my chance to get out.
Riffling through the dresses in my closet until I find the most indecent one I own, I slip out of my dinner dress and into the red lingerie Aidia was waving at.
I slide the gown over my head, and the silk is so fine and delicate that it shows the texture of the lace below.
Though the lingerie is bright, the dress is such a deep red, it looks almost black.
I tuck my feet into matching slippers and pull on my coat. Then, I sneak out the closet passageway.