Chapter 52
“We’re going to be late, nio.”
Andrian adjusted a golden cuff link, frowning slightly at his reflection in the mirror. He’d tried his best to tame his hair into submission, but there was still that one stray strand falling across his brow. He pushed it out of his face and sighed as it fell right back.
He couldn’t believe that, with everything going on, he was worried about his fucking hair. Perhaps it was because there was so much else that he craved this small piece of normalcy.
He also knew Mariah was about to tease him for it, but that was tolerable to him. Preferable, actually.
Because her teasing him meant that she was with him, and he was with her, and they were figuring out how to face this fucked-up world of theirs together.
Still a foreign concept, but one he loved, nonetheless.
“I’m almost ready!” Her strong, melodic voice called from the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile. His queen could spend all day grinning ear to ear on a training pitch, covered in dirt and sweat, then turn around and spend three hours in a bathroom getting dressed.
Not that she really needed to. She could show up to any event wearing swords and battle leathers and still be the most beautiful one in the room.
But he understood why she wanted to get dressed up tonight.
It was the night before the Summer Solstice. In Leuxrith, this night was celebrated by a feast. While most came together in large family units, they’d been invited to a private event hosted by the council, along with the other adult members of prominent Leuxrithian families.
Andrian wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but he knew attending was important to Mariah. So here he was, dressed in a fucking suit and cape and fussing over his gods-damned hair.
“How do I look?”
He turned as Mariah emerged from the bathroom.
His entire world stilled and narrowed. His voice left him, knees buckling.
She looked…gods, there weren’t even words to describe the way she looked.
Her white dress shimmered in the dying evening light, the gold-lined cutouts around her tanned skin gilding her form in moon-white flame.
A matching cape draped across her shoulders, clasping at the base of her throat.
She wore no crown, but never had she looked more like a queen.
“Andrian?” She lifted a delicate brow, humor edging her voice. The corners of her ruby lips kicked up in a smirk.
He swallowed hard. Blood rushed through his body, thrumming in his chest, his shadows purring in his ear. He opened his mouth, and when the words still wouldn’t come, he cleared his throat and closed the distance between them.
She watched as he walked, that beautifully frustrating smirk still tugging at her sinful mouth, her head tilting back as he halted in front of her.
He traced the shell of her ear, brushing his fingers through her dark waves. Her hair had grown; not nearly as long as it used to be, but still cascading over her shoulders, soft and thick. He hooked a finger beneath her jaw, thumb brushing over her cheek.
“You always look perfect,” he murmured breathlessly, “but right now, you could bring the gods themselves to their knees.”
Her smirk softened, but a bit of that mischief still lingered in her brilliant green eyes. “I don’t care much about what the gods think,” she said. “But it’s definitely nice to see you speechless.”
Andrian huffed a chuckle. “You don’t need to wear a dress like this to shut me up or get me on my knees, nio.”
“Oh, I know.” She leaned into him, her warm, sweet breath ghosting across his lips. “If it matters, you look pretty good yourself.”
“‘Pretty good?’” He scoffed. “Please. I know what I look like. Couldn’t let you hoard all the attention.”
“Cocky asshole,” she whispered with a smile, stretching up to him then taking a step away.
Tension rippled and coiled off his body as he fought back the urge to chase after her. He bit down hard on his tongue, swallowing the groan that waited in the back of his throat.
This was how it had been for the past two days. So much teasing, tantalizing, flirting, talking, just for her to pull away right at the end.
He didn’t know what the fuck she was up to, but, gods, was it driving him mad.
Mariah turned back to the mirror, smoothing down the shimmering material. “You don’t think it’s too much for a religious dinner?”
Andrian scoffed, using it to hide a release of some of the tension in his chest. “I would call the Luexrithians more spiritual than religious, nio,” he said. “And they’re far from modest about it. You remember Matheo’s face after his little adventure with Signe.”
“Oh, do I.” Mariah chuckled. “He was off-balance in training all morning.”
It was true. Whatever Signe had shown him in the city a few nights ago, Matheo had returned with stars in his eyes and a woozy, crooked smile, and now he couldn’t stop blushing every time the priestess walked into the room.
Good for him. Andrian was glad the younger man had a distraction while he and Mariah worked through…whatever this was.
And, okay, fine. It was nice seeing one of his oldest friends happy.
“What about you?” Mariah asked. Andrian met her gaze in the mirror. There was something unusually soft in her expression, head cocked ever so slightly as she toyed with the edges of her cape.
Concern.
He cracked his best attempt at a smirk. “What about me, princess?”
“Are you ready?”
His stomach bottomed out when he realized what she was asking.
Was he ready for tonight? To be back in public in Eyarfell, around its people and its council? Was he ready to face the Oracle again, the way her clouded eyes saw far too deep into his shadowed and blemished soul?
Callamus and Signe had both spoken to the council; at least, that’s what Mariah had told him.
Assurances had been made that no such confrontations would happen again tonight.
Perception of the reykr, and therefore him, wasn’t going to change overnight, but they’d been promised an evening of celebration and nothing more.
Then there was the bit Mariah had told him about Kol’s magic. Andrian’s shadows didn’t make him vulnerable to Kol’s influence. It was just…Kol.
He wasn’t sure he believed it. Who would? Who could? And did it change anything, really?
Mariah was still trying to convince him otherwise.
They’d talked until well past midnight last night.
She shared her stories and read some from her family diary, while he shared all the things that plagued his heart.
Every fear and doubt and question he’d ever had, finally emptied into the night air.
Even with all that, even when they fell asleep with those confessions around them, he still didn’t quite believe that he wasn’t the monster they thought him to be.
It was why that tanzanite ring was still in his pocket, tucked against his heart, and not sitting on her finger.
“Hey.”
Andrian hadn’t even realized he’d withdrawn into himself until a soft, warm hand touched the side of his face.
His vision cleared, forest green swimming into view, so rich and brilliant and vibrant.
Eucalyptus and cedarwood with just a hint of night jasmine wrapped around him like the sweetest embrace.
Mariah’s hand slid around the back of his neck. He nearly groaned as her hands sank into his hair. She stepped into him, body melding to his, no less perfect that it had been that first day he’d caught her in an abandoned gallery.
“I’m with you. And you’re with me. Always.”
He released a heavy breath, falling into her. “Always, princess.”
He should’ve been shocked when she tipped her chin up, pressing into him, and kissed him.
They’d come so close, so many times, over the past few days. But just like she had a few moments ago, she’d always turned away from him at the last moment.
So, when her lips met his, he wasn’t quite sure if it was real.
Then that gods-damned tongue flicked out of her perfect mouth, sliding into his, and his world collapsed.
The groan he’d been fighting back finally slipped free. He slid his hands into her hair, around her hips, drinking her in. They’d hardly spent a moment apart since arriving in Leuxrith, and yet he felt starved, parched, so desperate he could hardly stand it—
Instinct swallowed him whole as he swept his hands under her thighs. Her smooth, toned legs wrapped around his hips, that sinfully beautiful dress hitching up. Her cape dragged the floor as he backed them into the wall, pinning her to it.
His cock was painful in his tailored pants. He ground against her, still hungry for any sort of contact; he needed it, craved it, ached for it. For her. Her soft mewl of pleasure set his blood alight, heart pounding in his chest, shadows snaking down his arms and coiling around her legs.
No. Wait.
That pounding wasn’t just his heart.
Mariah’s hands landed on his chest, palms splayed, as they both became aware of someone knocking on the door.
“Are you two ready? We’re going to be late.”
And while Andrian had just been happy for the younger Riqueti brother, at this exact moment, he was going to kill him.
Mariah laughed softly, fingers digging slightly into his chest. She planted a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek, before pushing him away and settling herself back on the floor, readjusting her dress and hair.
She looked up at him, cheeks and chest still flushed with that perfect damned blush and gave him a lopsided smile as she toyed with his hair.
After a moment, she shrugged. “The mussed look has always suited you, anyway.”
Some of the tension loosened in Andrian’s chest. “Always?” He lifted a brow.
Her smile turned into a smirk. “At least this time, I won’t be wondering whose hands did it to you.” She brushed past him, somehow looking completely unruffled. “But you better take care of that before Matheo gives you shit until next Solstice.”
Warmth slid up Andrian’s spine. He adjusted himself in his pants, chuckling a teasing curse and following Mariah’s laugh from their room.