Chapter 30
Thirty
ALLETTE
The drink in the glass smells rotten, but I take a deep gulp to prove that I belong here as much as anyone else. Oh, stars… It tastes like fizzy bog water. And somehow, the men at our table have already drained their first pints.
When I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, Jeston’s lips quirk into an approving smile. I don’t want or need the man’s approval, but having it feels good all the same.
I drink mostly in silence, listening to the others exchange horror stories about working at the castle. Apparently, the king has not one mistress but two, and his wife enjoys the “company” of her personal guard. The most interesting thing I have to share is about the disgusting mess I cleaned on my first day. According to Del, the Nimbiss minister assigned to that room leaves it that way almost every morning.
Braith chimes in about her time in the kitchens, saying she saw a steak hit the floor before being thrown right back on the plate and served to the king himself. All the stories make me wonder if the staff in my parents’ tower or my aunt’s had traded similar tales.
What had they thought of me? I’d befriended Wynn but none of the others. Had they talked about how I always left my clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper? How I rarely finished all the food on my plate? How they had to wait until well past noon to clean my room because I was too lazy to get out of bed?
Before I know it, I’m already through the first pint and working on a second.
Braith throws her arm around my shoulders, damn near knocking me clear off my stool. “I’m so glad you came with us.” Her words almost get lost in the raucous laughter coming from everyone else in the bar. When did all these people arrive? The place is packed.
“Me too.” What’s more, I mean it. If I’d stayed, I would’ve wallowed, and I’ve done enough wallowing over the last four years. “I’ve been lonely for so long. I don’t want to be on my own anymore,” I confess.
Jeston leans in, and I realize too late that he must’ve been eavesdropping. “Goldie, Goldie, Goldie. There is no sense in being on your own when you’re surrounded by such brilliant company.” He holds his pint glass toward mine.
He really isn’t so bad—when one is a few cups deep. I smile and clink my glass against his. “Exactly.”
Jeston turns back to speak with Del, and Braith lets out a wistful sigh, her head falling to my shoulder. “Isn’t he magnificent?”
“Who? Jeston ?”
“Shhh!” Her finger presses to my lips. “He’ll hear you.”
“Are you sweet on your friend?” I manage around her finger. Her bright red blush is all the confirmation I need. “Good for you.” She deserves to find someone who makes her happy.
“It’s not good. He barely even looks at me. I swear, I could be standing right in front of him, wrapping my arms around his beautiful neck, kissing his face, and he still wouldn’t see me.”
“Beautiful neck?” I snort.
She tilts forward on her stool, watching Jeston with a furrowed brow. “Do you not think he has a beautiful neck?”
I glance at Jeston from over my shoulder. “His neck is fine.” You know who has a beautiful neck, though? Senan Vale. Stars. I could kiss that man’s neck forever. And his neck always smelled so good. Probably still does.
“Whose neck smells good?” Braith asks.
My hands fly to my loose lips. Oops. Definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud.
She pokes me in the side. “Have you been smelling Jeston’s neck?”
I catch her hands to keep her from poking me again. “No! I swear! I swear I haven’t. His neck is all yours.”
We both collapse in a fit of giggles. Stars, this drink is strong. You know who else is strong? Senan Vale. Those arms of his…I could lick them.
I have licked them.
Maybe if I ask nicely, he’ll let me lick them again.
Someone taps my shoulder. “Would you like another pint?” Jeston asks, his face a little bit blurry.
“Another drink sounds wonderful.” You know what sounds even better? Dancing.
The bass pulses like a heartbeat; the melody spins like a siren’s song, calling all within earshot to their doom. The dance floor is filled with people, their arms lifted and twisting toward a black ceiling. Men and women, Scathian and Tuath. Here, it doesn’t matter who or what you are. All that matters is the dance.
As if she read my mind, Braith catches my hand. “I need to dance.”
When I stand, I have to steady myself against the edge of the table until the room stops swaying.
A bunch of stools clatter to the ground, and a horde of women swarm—not to the dance floor but over to the doorway. Braith and I squeeze between them and their cloud of floral perfume, our laughter falling into the void as we melt into the writhing crowd.
Jeston isn’t so bad when he isn’t being an ass. I don’t hate the idea of he and Braith falling in love. If it makes her happy, isn’t that all that matters? Happiness isn’t that easy to find in this world. “You know what you should do?” I shout over the music.
Braith’s eyes go so wide, I can see myself in her blown-out pupils. “What? What should I do? Tell me. Tell me.”
“You should tell Jeston how you feel.”
Her silver hair slaps her face when she shakes her head. “Oh, no. Nope. Can’t do that. He’ll avoid me for the rest of our days. I’d rather drown myself in the Solace.”
She can’t drown herself. I would miss her far too much. Yes, we barely know each other, but she is the first friend I’ve had since Wynn.
Stars, I miss Wynn. She would’ve loved Braith.
“You should tell him,” I insist. “Men aren’t nearly as intelligent as they think they are. When I met Sen—” Damn this loose tongue of mine. “When I met Simon ,” I amend, “I had to tell him flat out that I wanted him to kiss me.”
Braith bumps into a woman dancing with another, their arms intertwined as their hips swing to the music. “This Simon you speak of. Is he the one who has you so down?”
“Yes.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
“He left me behind to marry another.”
“That bastard. He sounds like a right prick, if you ask me,” she shouts in my ear.
If Senan had been a prick, getting over him would’ve been a lot easier. “No. He was perfect.” Even now, even knowing he abandoned me, my stomach still flutters when I think of him. How pathetic is that? I’m pathetic.
Braith snorts. “Oh, please. If he was perfect, he wouldn’t have left you behind.”
After being in the castle, seeing his glamorous life and the woman he is to marry, I’m starting to understand. Senan must’ve realized I wasn’t good enough. I only wish he would’ve told me that he changed his mind instead of running away like a coward. Then again, if he’d stayed, maybe he would’ve lost his wings and magic too.
And as devastated as I am over what he did, no one deserves to suffer the way I have.
But all of that is in the past. Tonight…tonight is for the future.
A future that doesn’t feel as bleak as it did a few hours ago.
Our bodies swing and sway in time with everyone else’s until we become one living organism, an anemone beneath the sea, undulating with the tide of sensual song. I lift my hands, rolling and rocking my hips while Braith spins around in circles, a wide grin on her upturned face. My lashes grow heavy, and I close my eyes, letting the music take me away from this terrible world.
Calloused fingers trace mine; a solid body presses to my back. I don’t look to see who it is. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the music as one song bleeds into another and another. The man’s hands fall to my waist, holding me as we move in time. I press back into him, feeling heated breath tickling my ear. The sharp bite of stubble.
It feels good to be held. To be touched. To dance. To be free.
As I peer through my lashes, the world slowly comes back into focus. Jeston has his arms around Braith, holding her the way the man at my back holds me. The smile on her face brings one to my own. I’ve never seen my friend look as happy.
My partner slides his hand to cup my hip bone. “Is this all right?” he whispers breathlessly against the shell of my ear.
It’s more than all right. Stars, it feels like I’ll die if he lets go. I reach behind me, clasping his neck with one hand, urging his lips down until he kisses my exposed throat, his hands scalding a path from my hips to my ribs and back again. The music swells. With each rapid beat of my heart, my legs grow weaker, my breaths more ragged.
Suddenly, the man’s hands still.
His lips lift from my skin.
I fight the urge to drag him back. To turn and find their soft wantonness with mine.
Then a voice so close I can feel its deep, rich tones vibrating across my skin says… “Allette?”