Chapter 52 #2
“It is so good to see you again, Your Majesty.”
Mariah smiled warmly at Merete. The council woman wore a flattering black gown, her long, gray-streaked hair coiled atop her head. “You as well, Merete. We’re honored by the invitation. The temple is beautiful.”
Andrian gave the council woman a tight smile, his gaze wandering.
Mariah was right; it was beautiful. The cavern walls were hidden behind towering tapestries that had been dropped from the ceiling, and a stage was erected at the far end of the room.
Tables dotted the space, each set in a semi-private alcove constructed of more cloth barriers.
It was warm and welcoming and splendid, yet still intimate and divine. These people may not give the Solstice the same significance that Onitans did, but they certainly celebrated it to its fullest.
Perhaps more than Onitans did, truthfully. A focus on the magic of the night, and not the power to be gained.
“And it is nice to see you as well, Armature. It must be quite a treat to be here in Eyarfell to celebrate the Solstice with your mother’s people.”
Andrian winced, tearing his eyes from the cavern. The council woman’s words were kind enough; practice and polished and saying all the right things. But there was an edge in her expression, a guarded wall he’d known all his life.
Fear. Distrust. Generations-old wounds that would never truly heal, no matter how many queens or gods demanded that they do.
“It’s quite the honor, Merete. I only wish she could’ve been here to see it with me.”
Merete smiled, though it was pinched and forced. “Yes. If only.”
If only his mother hadn’t sold her body and his soul to a fallen demon god.
Merete turned back to Mariah, expression warming. “A server will escort you to your seats; it’s one of the best in the house, if I say so myself. I hope you both enjoy the show.”
“Happy Solstice, Merete.” Mariah gave her a nod and a smile before tugging Andrian after the young serving girl who’d quietly approached behind the council woman.
They wove through the gathering attendees, all finding their tables within the shrouded alcoves. Their soft murmurings grated against Andrian’s skin, the air buzzing with the weight of their curious, veiled glares. Though when he swept his gaze around to try to catch them, he never could.
“I’m sorry for what she said.”
Andrian’s attention snapped to Mariah. “What?”
“Merete.” She kept her gaze fixed ahead, but her grip on his forearm tightened. “I’m sorry for what she said about your mother and the way she looked at you. Cal and I are trying, but…” She sighed. “It’s just frustrating, I guess.”
She’d noticed. He knew he’d kept it locked away, that Merete’s expression and words were so subtle, no one should have noticed. But she had.
Gods, he fucking loved this woman.
“They’re trying their best, nio,” he murmured. “They have their reasons for being distrusting. But I will never not love how you fight for me, anyway.”
Mariah met his stare with a soft, delicate, heartbreakingly beautiful smile. Their server halted, pulling back one of the heavy, gauzy curtains.
“Here is your table, Your Majesty,” the youth said with a bow. “The show is set to begin momentarily. We will leave you to enjoy and will be back at its conclusion to serve dinner.”
Their table did have a great view of the stage, tucked just to the left.
The curtains gave the space a feeling of privacy, but there were walkways and aisles winding between the other tables.
A few people milled about, greeting friends and colleagues who had already taken their seats.
Matheo and Signe sat a few tables away, the younger man leaning into the priestess as she talked with literal stars dancing in his eyes.
Andrian’s shoulders relaxed slightly with relief.
If the show was about to start, they would likely be able to avoid the small talk. Thank the gods.
Mariah smiled warmly at the server. “Thank you.” She slid past them both, unclipping her cape and draping it across the back of her chair.
She sank into the plush chair at the cloth-covered table, Andrian taking a seat beside her.
He leaned back in the velvet, stretching his arm casually over the back of Mariah’s chair.
She leaned into him on instinct, warm hand landing on his thigh as his fingers began to trace idle patterns on her skin.
Gods, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.
Being able to touch her so casually and comfortably like this.
After trying for so long to push her away, then coping through the fallout of what he’d done to her in Khento, this relaxed familiarity they shared had once felt like nothing more than a sad, desperate dream.
And the fact that he could still taste her lips on his tongue…
The lights dimmed. A single beam focused on the stage, casting the rest of them in darkness.
Music drifted slowly and softly through the cavern, a melancholic melody that sang to the dark but carried hints of hope for the light.
A single dancer strode onto the stage, body twisting and rolling as the story began.
Andrian was hardly watching the show. He saw the performers and heard the music, but every sense he had was latched on to the woman at his side.
Enough of this. Enough resisting.
She owned him, body and soul, but he was ready to take back just a sliver of the control.
The music crescendoed, more dancers joining the first. He leaned into her, his lips finding the soft shell of her ear.
“You know,” he whispered, savoring the way her skin pebbled, “that was impossibly cruel to leave me the way you did back there.”
He was close enough to her to feel her breath hitch. She tightened her jaw, swallowing hard.
“Oh, poor baby. How will you ever survive?” Her answer was teasing, but he could hear the strain.
Could almost feel the way her blood heated beneath her skin.
He imagined that if he dropped his hand to her lap and slid it beneath that incredible dress, he would find her deliciously warm and wet and—
No. He couldn’t let himself go there yet. This was a game, one they always played, and for once he was determined to win.
Andrian pressed his fingers into her skin, tightening his grip.
He let her feel everything he did: his need, his possessiveness, every dark and filthy desire he harbored for her.
“Oh, I’ll survive just fine. But even queens need lessons sometimes.
For this one, you’ll be learning not to start things you don’t intend to finish. ”
Her hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging into his flesh. The first song came to a close. The stage fell dark, the scene resetting. A new, lighthearted melody filled the air.
Mariah twisted slightly, her cheek brushing his lips. “And how, exactly, do you plan to teach me?”
His heart hammered beneath his ribs. The soft huskiness of her voice was like a nail down his chest, wrapping itself around his cock, already hard again and straining against his zipper.
He pushed everything down, tightening the leash on his control with every ounce of practiced resolve he had left.
“I’ll leave the lessons for later, princess. Consider this warning a courtesy.”
Their warm breath mixed in the narrow space between them. Confidence spiraled up his spine, his mouth lifting into that easy smirk he’d spent a lifetime perfecting.
Her expression shifted. She leaned away from him, spine straightening, hand relaxing on his thigh. Her wide-eyed surprise dropped away as a wickedness slipped into her forest-green eyes.
For the first time since they’d sat down at that table, Andrian’s confidence wavered.
She swept her gaze across the cavern. He knew the room was full, but they could only see a few other attendees, their attention fixed in rapture on the performers singing and dancing across the stage.
“Instead of waiting for later,” Mariah said softly, “why don’t I start with my own lesson, right now?”
Confusion spiked through Andrian. What was she talking about—
That confusion melted into hot, racing panic as she gave him a wild, devilish smile and slid smoothly off her chair, slinking under the table.
Andrian went rigid, eyes darting around the room.
No one was turned their way; no one had seen her disappear.
Even Matheo was too preoccupied with both the play and Signe.
Their table was draped with a thick tablecloth that met the floor on the side facing the stage and crowd.
Mariah was no longer sitting beside him, but no one could see where she’d gone.
At least, as far as he was aware.
“What are you doing, nio—”
Her hands touched his knees under the table, pushing them apart, freezing his words in his throat. Her piercing green eyes met his, and an evil grin spread wildly across her face.
He was so fucked.
Of course, she was never going to let him win this.
“You want to talk about lessons, Andrian?” Mariah’s hands slid up his thighs, her words barely audible over the music.
“Here’s one, just for you.” She reached his waistband, deftly undoing the button and coaxing down the zipper.
“If you make a sound, or do anything to compromise your queen’s image, then I won’t allow you to teach me anything again. ”
Andrian’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth. “Looks like you’re the one about to do the compromising.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s what makes it all the more fun.” She slid her warm hand into his unbuttoned trousers, wrapping it around his cock.
His head thudded against the back of his chair, biting on his tongue to swallow his groan. “This is cruel, Mariah.”
“But what was it you just said?” He glanced down, nearly choking at the sight of her kneeling there, glimmering dress hitched up around her tan thighs, his hard, aching cock fisted in her grip. “Don’t start things you don’t intend to finish? I’m simply being a good student.”