Chapter Two
SHE WAS A YOUNG SLIP of a girl, slender and dark-haired, with a face that held the promise of stunning beauty.
Almost like a pearl still cocooned in a shell of insecurities, he mused absently.
And her meekness and innocence, it was like her second skin, a juvenile fragrance that didn't attract but didn't quite repel either.
Regardless, she was not the type of girl that appealed to him.
He wouldn't even have noticed her, much less given her the time of the day.
..if not for his first glimpse of her, hair perfectly coiffed even as she seemed hell-bent on escaping today's soirée by climbing down from the clubhouse's second-story terrace.
Interesting, Lysander thought, and he called out to her on impulse. "Do you need any help, milady?"
The girl, startled by his words, lost her footing, and let out a cry as she started to fall.
But Lysander, of course, was more than ready to catch her, and he only grunted as she landed in his arms with a gasp. Green eyes gazed up at him, her gaze admonishing and shy, and it was quite the enchanting combination. "You s-startled me!"
"My deepest apologies for that." Lysander's voice was a velvety murmur as he gently lowered the girl to her feet.
The girl nodded stiffly. "Who are you?" She was making a show of dusting the skirts of her gown, but her green eyes completely gave her away.
She was visibly struggling not to stare, but her gaze kept coming back to him and lingered especially on the locks of his hair, which gleamed violet under the moonlight.
"Sir?"
Lysander found himself smiling at the way she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. The look on her face told him she was choosing to play it safe, even if she found him fascinating, which she obviously did.
"I was told this place had been reserved for the party."
And so it was. Willow Lane - or this place, as she so unceremoniously put it - was an exclusive vacation club for his kind.
But with the High Circle intent on reclaiming its place in society, the elders had decided to open its doors for a weeklong matchmaking party, in hopes of forging stronger alliances between Faes and other races.
"You were told correctly, milady. And judging your earlier actions, it appears we share the same sentiments towards it."
"Oh."
"The only difference is that I don't think escaping a matchmaking marty is worth risking my neck for." He slanted a meaningful glance towards the terrace she had fallen from, and it had the girl wincing.
"I'm kind of...clumsy."
"Extremely so, I'd say." She winced again, and it was cute enough to make his lips twitch.
"It's not that I haven't tried to be more...coordinated? But it's just not me, so in the end..." Her voice trailed off.
"In the end, what?"
She shook her head. "It's nothing."
"That's not fair, milady. Now, you'll have me so curious I'll be unable to sleep, wondering what it is you could have said.
" His teasing words had her giggling, and this in turn had him smiling.
There was something about this girl, Lysander thought absently, that made him forget his worries, the way not even hours of sex with the most skilled courtesans could do.
She was smiling up at him now, and an elusive, almost coy hint of beauty flirted with his thoughts. She was going to be a hell of a knockout once she grew up and learned to conquer the world. The only question was if he'd be there to enjoy it—-
"I'm Star."
Her awkward but tentatively inviting tone cut through his thoughts, and his lips curved. He wouldn't be surprised if this was the girl's very first time to try making friends with a member of the opposite sex.
"Hello, Star." Frustration flashed in her eyes, and his smile widened.
"Oh!" Understanding dawned, and her own lips curved in a smile of exasperation. "You're playing with me."
"Am I?"
"You know you're supposed to give me your name, too."
"Is that so?"
A laugh escaped her. "Yes. That is so."
"Even if I'm no one?"
She shook her head without hesitation. "You can be anything except that."
"What if I like being mysterious?"
"But—-"
"It would be more exciting if I remain anonymous, don't you think?" He took a sudden step forward, but before she could back away in surprise, he was already running his knuckles against one pale cheek and felt her tremble under his touch.
When he drew his hand away, he saw that her cheek had turned pink, and the color only deepened into a dusky shade of rose when she saw him start to smirk. "Did I just make your heart race, milady?"
"Of c-course not!"
But she was blushing even harder now, and both of them knew he was aware that her words were a lie.
****
THE NEXT TIME THEY met, it was he who accidentally stumbled into her once more, with Star on the floor in one of the hidden corners of the library, an old thick book lying open on her lap.
"Ma belle étoile." The words were out before he had even realized what he was saying. French was the native tongue of his kind, but to use it was nowadays considered old-fashioned.
And truthfully, that was what he was: a throwback to the times, but it was also the part of him that he normally kept hidden.
And yet...
His lovely Star was proving to be an exception, and it was just more proof of how soothing he found her presence.
"Milord." She was blushing as she stared up at him, and he noticed the way her sweet bosom started heaving rapidly as she took the hand he offered. Unable to resist the temptation of teasing her even more, he made sure to have her body slide against him as he pulled her up.
She choked, and he laughed.
"Milord!" This time, her voice came out chiding and begging at the same time.
"I'm sorry, milady." But the wickedness in his gaze belied his repentant tone.
"What are you doing here?" she asked as he led her to the closest table and pulled out a seat for her.
"Escaping," he answered truthfully, "just like you."
"Mm."
"What is it?"
"I avoid parties because I'm shy, but I don't think you have the same problem."
"I don't. I avoid parties because I'm a grumpy old man at heart."
She laughed. "No, you're not."
"Only with you."
"Milord."
"Apologies." His voice was grave. "Did I make your heart race again?"
"Oh my God. Will you please stop?" She made a show of ignoring him and concentrating on her book, and it would probably have been convincing - if not for the sight of her still-pink cheeks and the way her bosom was still heaving entrancingly against the fabric of her dress.
She still had a crush on him, Lysander mused, and the thought filled him with satisfaction for some reason.
"So..."
The studied casualness in her voice made Lysander's lips twitch. This should be interesting.
"The French words you spoke earlier...what did they mean?"
"That's another secret for me to keep," he said lazily, and when Star made an adorably cute face at this, Lysander drawled, "I could be persuaded to change my mind though."
"Like how?"
"You could beg for it," he suggested wickedly, and just as he predicted, the innuendo was more than enough to have Star jerking and sputtering in her seat.
"Y-you...I-I...a-ah..."
"Oui?"
"Never mind." She tore her gaze away from him and went back to pretending to read. He glanced at the book she had brought with him, intending to tease her about it, but instead he felt his face harden when he realized it was about the Great War.
He had lost his entire family because of it, and his fists clenched involuntarily as memories tried to invade his mind. The details had faded over time, but the pain had not. And it was why—-
"I'm sorry."
When he glanced back at her, he realized that she had been looking at him for some time, and his jaw hardened even more.
"The Faes...your race...I'm sorry about what you all had to endure."
His lips tightened. "It was a long time ago." He waited for more words of useless platitude to follow, but instead she simply nodded, almost as if she was attuned to what his soul did not need.
A moment later, she started talking, her voice awkwardly determined. It was as if she was consciously battling her introverted tendencies in her need to distract and comfort him.
And it worked.
He could feel the tension gradually leaving his body as he listened to Star speak of her sisters, of how much she loved them but how much she also hated the way people constantly compared the three of them.
I'm not as smart or as brave as they are. I don't think I'll ever be.
It seemed like the usual coming-of-age story until Lysander realized what Star was leading to.
My personal shortcomings made me realize what I could be really good at...
"A military tactician?" He definitely hadn't seen that coming. "That's what you want to become?"
"And you're the only one who knows it," Star confided, "along with my brother."
"The one you're taking lessons from?"
She nodded. "Do you think it's stupid?"
He didn't answer right away, not wanting to make light of her dream. "The book you're reading," he said after a while. "You're close to finishing it, aren't you?"
Star nodded even as her gaze turned questioning.
"Then you should know enough about the Great War to have formed an opinion."
Star began fidgeting in her seat. "I do have one, but..."
"But?"
"It might make me seem heartless."
Now this I have to hear, Lysander thought. "Go on."
"When people write about the Great War, they often say that your race lost because your allies didn't come to your aid."
"And you don't agree?"
Star slowly shook her head. "It's not that I'm excusing your allies - it was horrible and unforgivable, the way they hadn't been able to come to the Faes' aid.
But at the same time, I also didn't think it was right for the Faes at that time to have pinned all of their hopes on other people.
They had so much to defend themselves with, if they had only believed in themselves more. "
"You're speaking of our ability to turn invisible?"
"Actually..."