Chapter 18 #2
“Would you care to see more of the Dragon Lands?” He turns slightly to look at me over his broad shoulder.
“I…” I swallow, “Unfortunately, I’d never be able to afford traveling much outside of Kilamber.”
“So finances are a concern for you?”
I let my gaze fall to the floor. “Yes. I do not come from a wealthy family, I’m afraid.”
“Lyra, your financial situation does not offend me.” The fall of his boots hit the floor as he walks. Each step closer to me like pulling a thread tighter between us until it’s harder to breathe.
Perhaps I’m far too transfixed by his authoritative nature. His power. Do all the other women feel like this?
He stops close to me, the candlelight flickering on his polished boots. “Look at me, Lyra.”
Taking a steady breath, I drag my gaze up his boots, his legs, to his vest and coat hugging his generous frame. Up to the soft waves falling over his shoulder, and the smooth cut jaw. Gentle curve of his lips, long nose, and…to those unearthly eyes.
I’m doing everything I can to settle the breath in my chest as I’m locked into his gaze.
“Your financial standing is the last thing that would ever affect my thoughts about you. But if you’re here because of it, because you only wish to better your family’s situation, you can stay as long as you’d like.”
“That’s kind of you. But I’m not here because of the money, Cyrus,” I whisper back.
He tilts his head to the side in genuine, soft curiosity. “Then why are you?”
I swallow before timidly confessing, “Because I think there might be something here worth more than all the gold in the realm. Something you can’t just…” I shake my head, losing my point entirely.
But a soft grin lifts his lips, like he understands it.
Dipping his head, he says, “I’m glad to hear it then.
That you are one of few who believe in more than just power and wealth.
” He holds out a hand to me. “Admittedly, I was searching for you out there to ask you for the last dance. If you'll do me the honor. We don’t even have to wander outside of this room, if you do not wish to. Or…or if you want to be left alone, say the word, and I’ll go. ”
“No,” I reply with a shy grin and bow before straightening and placing my hand in his. “I would be delighted. Though…I’m quite curious how you plan on a proper dance around the furniture.”
He chuckles. “I’ve been practicing dances within chalk-drawn lines since I could walk. If you can trust me, I’ll lead you so we won’t have any collisions.”
His hand floats out an inch from my waist. “May I touch you here?”
My grin widens as I nod, and he cups my side. Gently. Then he turns his attention to my hand in his. The quiet contentment in his face falls, and I nearly slip my hand off his to hide it.
“It doesn’t hurt,” I mutter. “Not anymore.”
He lingers on my bandaged hand for a few seconds before dragging his gaze back to my face. Shaking his head, he whispers, “I-...I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” Not sorry for saving Marcella by risking my own life. I would have been more sorry had I let her take the burns. The guilt would have eaten me alive.
He blinks, eyes falling off my face. “You must think me a monster for these trials.”
“I’ll admit I don’t understand it. But I won’t so easily jump to the conclusion you are.”
“And why not?” He looks up from the floor.
“Because I think there’s more. More to this than what I or the other women understand,” I whisper. “Why else would we have agreed to this entire situation before our memories were cleared?”
“I shouldn’t admit this to you…” He sucks in a long breath as he searches my eyes. “But I am uninformed about what the trials are. I wish they weren’t part of this process. But my hands are…” He shakes his head, looking at mine in his. “Tied.”
I tighten my fingers around his. Unable to ignore the cracks of pain shimmering underneath his composed demeanor. Like light shining from beneath a door. Hinting of something between us. I take a tiny step closer to him, resting my hand on his bicep.
He takes the cue, slowly leading me into a dance.
The music from out in the dining room is muffled, but somehow it makes it all the more beautiful. Softer, quieter. Then I realize, dancing in the reflection room with just him, away from the dazzling glitz and glamor, feels infinitely more intimate.
“Do you enjoy dancing?” he asks quietly after a few moments, as if worried to disturb the peace of this moment.
“I think so. From what I can remember. Though…I’m not as skilled in it.”
“I think you’re doing a lovely job.” He dips his chin down to our feet.
“Thank you, but you speak too soon.”
He chuckles, and pulls me in tighter for a spin. As I complete the turn and face him, he transitions us into a soft sway. “What other things did you do in your free time, aside from gardening? What sets your heart on fire?”
I smile for the one thing I do remember vividly. “Singing.”
“Ahh, really? May I hear it some day?”
My cheeks grow hot as I break our eye contact and instead focus on our clasped hands. “I am more than certain you’ve heard many more talented singers than I. Heard the best of the Dragon Lands.”
“I do not like to argue. But I will. Because I have yet to hear you.”
His sincere tone pulls my lips up into a quiet smile. “Perhaps someday, then.”
“I’ll take someday.” He smiles at me, dazzling and enchanting.
He pulls me in until my body is flush with his and turns me so we avoid the corner of the loveseat as we slow dance. “Could you see yourself living the rest of your life out in a castle like this?”
“I think anyone who would refuse to live in a place such as this would be foolish. I could live in the gardens on one of the courtyard benches and be perfectly happy.”
He chuckles again, the humor softening his otherwise hard features. “I’ve spent a night out on one of the benches before. I don’t think I ever experienced an aching back until that next morning. But the gardens at night are perhaps my favorite place to be on the entire castle grounds—”
A slow grin splits his lips, and he cocks his head to the side, sweeping down his soft white hair. “Actually, perhaps it’s better I show you sometime.”
Out alone with him after the dinner bell?
The heel of my shoe hits the lounge behind me as I step back. My balance completely shifts out from under me. His grip on me tightens, and he lunges forward while tugging me into him so I don’t fall.
My body snaps with the movement. My head rolls forward and my nose slams into his chin. I gasp at the small pain spearing through my nose, and as I find my footing and he steadies me, his eyes frantically search me.
“Are you alright?”
My cheeks are red hot, my heart galloping in my chest. I let go of his hand as something warm dribbles down from my nose. When I pull my fingers away, drops of blood stain them, spreading out onto the bandages.
I quickly cover my nose, embarrassed at both my clumsy nature and the mess. “Y-yes I think so.”
“Lyra, I am so sorry. Here, let me see.” He desperately digs into a hidden pocket within his coat, pulling out a crimson handkerchief.
As I lower my hand when he steps closer to me, he tenderly dabs the fabric underneath my nose.
His pupils are blown wide. Fear? Guilt? He’s had to have seen blood before…
right? Or is he already so shaken by the repercussions of today’s trial that this only adds to the guilt?
His wide eyes move from mine down to where I bleed.
His hands slow, allowing the fabric to absorb the gush of blood.
Those widened eyes dull, like he’s being taken somewhere very, very far away.
With my non-bloodied hand, I grab his wrist, willing him to look at me. When he does, he takes a cautious step back. Dropping his hand with the blood-spotted handkerchief.
I touch my nose, finding it already dry. “See, already better. Just a little bump, is all.”
“Just…a little bump,” he echoes quietly. That distant look in his eyes as he slowly shakes his head and crumples the handkerchief in his fist.
I open my mouth to ask him what’s the matter. Seeing that glimmer of something else within the cracks. But he turns his face away as he tucks the handkerchief back in his pocket.
The music outside comes to a stop, and I turn to the door. “The last song is done. Perhaps you leave first, and I can leave a few minutes after? In the event they didn’t realize the two of us were in here…”
“Alone?” he finishes.
Biting down on the heat crawling up my throat reaching for my cheeks, I nod. Then slowly turn to face him as he walks for the door. Guilt covering every inch of his expression.
Once he’s within reach, I stretch forward to grab his hand. He freezes, lips parted as he looks down at me.
“Cyrus, you can feel whatever you want for me. But I ask you to not pity me.”
A small smile warms his lips. Fluttering my heart that he’s back to that soft expression.
He dips his head. “Of course.” When he shifts those white eyes back up to me, he whispers as he gently squeezes my hand, “But I will never stop apologizing for what these trials might put you through. Even if it’s not something I can prevent.”
He gently kisses the back of my bandaged hand. “Thank you for dancing with me.”
Then he’s gone.