Chapter 58
We attended the funeral, of course. Beautiful ceremony.
I’m standing in my room after the party.
Dae steps toward me and raises his hand to my cheek. His fingers brush it, as solid as any living being, as if dancing with him an hour ago wasn’t enough of a reminder. His eyes are warmer, deeper than before, just like they were on the roof.
It churns up waves inside my chest.
The only person to ever touch my cheek like this was Tian. It only happened once, after one of my father’s belligerent rages years ago.
He was like my older brother.
I cried that night, and he wiped my tears with his thumb and told me that the most beautiful and resilient souls grow in adversity; then he led me into the library to find some book about princesses on a grand adventure.
“I do love your memories,” Dae whispers.
“It’s not fair.” I fold my arms across my chest as if that will protect him from seeing my soft insides. “If you get to know my memories, I should get to know yours.”
Not from Lo’s perspective.
His.
“Like your little game of questions with Nightlight?” He drops his hand and backs away.
His gold- and green-flecked gaze rakes over me. “If you keep wearing gowns like that, you’ll have him in your bed in no time.” He smirks, but it’s forced.
I remove jewels from my ears and fingers, leaving nothing but my golden vessel. “I don’t want him in my bed. Don’t change the subject.”
Our eyes meet, and a moment of silence passes before he says, “I do try to leave your memories untouched most of the time.”
“Why do I not believe you?” I crank my arm behind me trying to reach my zipper, but once I do, it gets stuck on itself. “Damn zipper,” I mutter, tugging harder.
Dae draws a circle with his finger. “Turn.” I give up the battle and turn.
His fingers graze my skin as he zips it down to the lowest part of my back. “When the memory is coursing through your current thoughts,” he says near my shoulder. “I have no choice but to see it.”
I turn to face him. Damn. His sinful mouth is so close to mine.
His real smirk shines through, kicking up higher on the one side as he leans a hair closer. “Your desires are being . . . how’d you put it? Traitorous?”
My jaw tightens as damning warmth floods my cheeks. I push his chest away with a jab of my finger. “Like I said. Not fair.”
I yank down a black, mid-thigh robe and clutch its velvet material to my chest.
“Do you want one of my memories?”
I glance over my shoulder, giving him a look.
He sighs, but there’s a soft smile in it. “The first time I saw you in your bathing chamber . . .” He closes his eyes. “I was flying through the rooms of this castle, angry at what was stolen from me.”
Cool air stirs through my closet, brushing beneath the skirt of my dress, which I’m now holding to my chest to keep from falling.
“Spirits don’t usually have to watch where we are going, you know, so when I smacked against your shield, and saw you—”
I look up, and his hazel eyes are on me again. “You were stunning.”
My cheeks are still warm, but I’ll be damned if I’m the only one whose desires are on display. “Why? Because I was wet and naked?”
His entire body stiffens and his suddenly hungry gaze narrows. “I was going to say because you have the face of a fucking goddess.” His voice deepens. “But wet and naked work too.”
I smile. “Now look at whose desires are being traitorous.” I wave my robe. “Shoo, while I change.”
He bites his bottom lip as if trying to keep a straight face. “I thought you don’t mind spirits in your closet.”
“I don’t mind dead ones.”
“I am dead,” he says flatly.
I allow my eyes to roam his chest. The same defined chest I was pressed up against on the roof of the Megadome.
“Not dead enough.”
He grins, and a coy playfulness dances across his face, making him appear every bit the young king portrayed in King’s Hall.
The portrait I kissed once when no one was looking.
A devilish curl pulls his lips even higher as he folds his muscled arms and leans against the black pillar separating my sleepwear from my evening gowns. “Definitely my new favorite memory.”
Damn my memories! I point to the open archway. “Out.”
He wiggles his brows. “Out of your closet? Or just your memories?”
“Both,” I snap.
“Realms, I love seeing you riled.” He pushes off the pillar as if to leave, his face becoming more serious. “But there is a way to force me out if it truly bothers you. I meant it when I said I do try to respect your privacy.”
“I’m listening.”
He glances down at my robe in my hand. “It would require a different outfit.”
I jam the robe back on my rack of sleepwear. “What kind of outfit?”
His face is nothing but coy mischief. “Not any outfit you own.”
He seems to think for a moment, the smile never quite leaving his lips and his eyes still burning. I look away from them immediately, but land on his chest, then his arms, then hair. Is there nowhere on his body that doesn’t twist my insides into a coil of burning tension?
His eyes dance, telling me he knows exactly what my desires are doing. “I’ll place an order at this shop I know of. Have Preysee pick it up tomorrow. If you want to go through with it, I’ll take you tomorrow night.”
“I will definitely be going through with it.”