46. Angélique
46
Angélique
J ust for the sight of Elhyor’s mouth dropping at my arrival and the sneer on my father’s face, waiting an hour in that little sewing shop was worth it.
Mariane had wonderful machines that could dye any fabric perfectly in just a couple dozen minutes. The gold was a bit trickier to apply, but I wanted it still.
Elhyor might not realize that it was a reminder of his door, but I also like the effect it has on the whole dress.
All of that thinking goes straight out the window when his lips meet mine, though.
I knew this was going to happen, but I was also scared of it.
My first kiss.
This is my first kiss.
I might not really know what I’m doing, but as the soft press of him against me deepens, I decide I don’t care and answer in earnest.
I let my lips slip over his, tightening my fingers around the lapel of his tuxedo where he settled it before he bent to kiss me.
Before I know it, my lips have melted to his, and he’s biting softly on my lower one to get more access to my mouth.
I gasp at the pinch and his tongue slips past my lips, tracing my upper lip slowly and then the lower one.
I have the distant thought that this kiss might be totally improper in a church, with people looking at us, but I don’t care anymore, and I let my tongue do the same to him until it tangles with his and all I want is for this kiss to never end.
There is the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then Elhyor’s lips are gone, leaving mine tingling and my body in a state of arousal I’ve never known.
“I declare you husband and wife,” the priest says as he motions us to turn in the direction of the room.
That’s when it settles in. I’m married now.
And I might have embarrassed myself a bit in front of a whole lot of people with that kiss, but it was worth it.
It was totally worth it.
Especially since I have the dark impression that it’s not gonna happen again soon, if ever.
I wish I could say that we had a lovely party after that—I think that would make a better memory—but instead, my father corners me after we leave the cathedral, while everything is set up for Notre Dame to be used in a different kind of celebration.
“I give you one day. If, in the next day, I haven’t heard of the dragon’s death, this goes off,” he says, barely above a whisper—so none of the bats can hear him—as he shows me a button on his holo.
“What is this?” I ask, panic rising in me, because nothing good comes from my father’s threats.
“Six,” he says in a slow voice.
I straighten my spine and close my mouth at the reminder that he owns me and that I will get whipped again if I go back to Versailles.
“And you need to cut your hair,” he sneers. “This counts as seven.”
He looks at my dress, then at my wings, with an obvious disdain that I can’t shake off. Still, I stay silent. I won’t give him the chance to get to ten before I’m free of him.
He remains silent for a little while before he finally answers my question.
“You should ask your friend Léandre about it. He might have a lot to say,” he says with a smile that freezes the blood in my veins.
What has he done?
I want to run to Léandre. I want to scream that Elhyor can’t be killed, that I might never succeed in the mission and that it’s all in vain, but instead, I gather what’s left of my wits and slowly ask, “What if he can’t be killed?”
”His father committed suicide. Don’t be daft; there is a way to kill a dragon, and if you haven’t found it yet, you’ll find it fast, because I‘ve got that button for after a day, and you don’t want to know what I have planned if, by the second day, he’s still alive.”
I see him straighten before I feel an arm circle me from behind. There are my wings between us, but I still can feel the warmth coming from Elhyor as he gathers me in his arms.
“You look tense, wife,” Elhyor says against my ear, but it’s loud enough for my father to hear, too. “Is your father bothering you?”
I can’t answer that question. I know I can’t, so instead, I let myself relax in Elhyor’s embrace and close my eyes.
But they’re jerked open by the next words that leave my father’s mouth.
“Don’t forget where you stand, dragon. Even Alexandria burned to the ground.”
I feel Elhyor’s arms tighten around my middle as he answers back.
“I’m not the only one with a short memory here. Remember Lucifer.” He pauses and kisses the side of my head. “Even angels fall, Micha?l. Even angels fall.”
My father turns his back on us, but still I can hear him loud and clear when he says, “And get those shameful wings back inside.” A pause. “Eight.”
He can’t do anything to me while I’m here. He can’t hurt me, he can’t beat me, he can’t whip me, I repeat in my mind before I take a big breath and turn into my husband’s embrace.
We have bigger things to deal with than me freaking out. I’ll freak out later.
Now, I need to find Léandre and know how fucked we are.