Chapter 53
Ciana’s head was made of stone.
The curtains in her room were closed, the lights woven into the canopy ceiling dimmed. She took another tentative sip of water, groaning at the way her brain pulsed against her skull.
How much wine had she even had last night?
Gods, she hadn’t remembered it being that much…
but then again, she didn’t remember much about her dinner with the king at all.
There was the incredible food and the glasses refilled to the brim.
She’d talked to the king about something important, but she couldn’t recall what.
Everything was a hazy blur, the memories too bright and too loud to be of any use.
Especially not when her head felt ready to crack open like an egg.
A tap tap tap pounded through her room. She groaned, burying her face in her pillow.
“Ciana? Are you there?”
“Stop being so loud and just come inside!” she croaked, rolling onto her back, flinging her arm dramatically across her face.
Her door opened with a soft click, followed by familiar footfalls. The lights blazed to life.
“Fuck!” she hissed, flipping back onto her stomach. The quick movement sent a fresh rush of pain clawing through her skull, sinking its hooks into her mind.
That was it; no more wine. Gin only for her, from there on out.
The door closed, and to her surprise, Sebastian chuckled softly. “I was a little worried you’d be in a rough state today. But nothing this bad.”
“What?” She cracked an eye, the light of the room burning. He was relaxed, leaning against the tree trunk in the center of her room, arms folded as he watched her with amusement.
Sebastian shrugged. “You looked fine when you came back last night, is all. Tired for sure, but certainly not drunk enough for”—he waved a hand in her direction— “this.”
“You saw me last night? After dinner?” Ciana pushed up, blinking furiously against the light. She didn’t remember coming back to her room last night or how she got here or who she might’ve been with—
Panic flooded her with a strange wildness. It was the first thing that managed to chase away some of her headache. She glanced around her room, scanning for any sign that someone other than herself had been here.
But no. It was only marred with traces of her. Only half of the bed was slept in, the other pillows untouched. Only her discarded clothes covered the furniture, only her scent met her nose.
A question had entered Sebastian’s expression.
“Ciana?” he asked. “Do you… Do you not remember getting back last night?”
A slow, sheepish grin spread across her face. “I guess I might’ve gone a little crazy with the wine at dinner.”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “Maybe,” he said. He pushed off from the tree, still wearing that edged, thoughtful expression, and tentatively sat at the end of her bed. His eyes darted to the nearly empty glass on her nightstand. “More water?”
“Ugh, please,” Ciana said with a groan. “It’s the only thing that’s sort of helping this goddess-damned headache.”
His lips tilted into a smile as he stood, swiping her glass and heading to the faucet.
Just when he flipped on the tap, a fresh wave of horror hit Ciana.
“Gods,” she said, palm meeting her cheek. “There is no way I didn’t do something horrendously embarrassing.” She slid her hand down her face, letting it fall to the down comforter. “Did you see the king last night? Did he say anything? How fucked am I, truly?”
Sebastian’s expression was still guarded and wary, but the corner of his lip lifted, along with his brow. “Yes, I saw the king last night. He walked you back to your room.” He handed her the glass. She took it from him, waiting.
“And?”
“And, what?”
“And did he say anything? Did I ruin this?”
Sebastian slowly sat at the end of her bed. He chuckled, but it was almost humorless. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.
“No, Cee,” he said finally. “He didn’t say anything, and I promise—you didn’t ruin anything.”
She slumped, letting out a heavy exhale of relief. “Thank the goddess.” She took a deep sip of her water, the crispness chasing away a little more of her lingering headache. “Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
Ciana narrowed her eyes, following the tense line of his shoulders. “I know you hate this,” she began. “But you know why I can’t risk ruining anything—”
“I know, Ciana.” Sebastian met her gaze. “You’re right; I do hate it. But I understand. I know that you have to do this. I just find it a little funny that you think you could do anything that would ruin what you’re here to do.”
Ciana blinked. She took another sip of water. “He’s a king. By birth, I’m a commoner. Of course I can ruin it.”
“You are many things, Ciana Visseau,” Sebastian said quietly. A soft emotion glimmered in his hazel eyes, one she’d seen only a few times before. One she hadn’t seen since they’d arrived in Vatha. “But common has never been one of them.”
Her breath caught in her chest. Her lungs constricted, making room for the quickening beat of her heart—for the rushing of her blood through her fingertips and along her skin and into the pit of her stomach.
All the flirting she’d done with Nik and not once had she felt like this.
Gods, she missed it.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, the sound of her voice dangerously close to a plea.
His gaze searched hers—looking for what, she didn’t know. He slowly pushed up from the end of the bed, sliding closer to her. She pulled her legs to the side, wrapping them beneath her.
He was close enough for her to now smell his leather and pine scent. Close enough to feel his warmth through the down comforter, close enough to see his muscles shift beneath his cotton tee.
This was dangerous. They’d agreed; she had a task to do here. One that meant that whatever was brewing between them, they could do nothing about it.
When he tucked a loose, wild curl behind her ear, she forgot why she cared.
“I know you have a job,” he murmured, his fingers toying with her hair.
“And I know we agreed to leave this at the border until we’re done.
” His hand slid fully into her hair, long fingers wrapping around her head, thumb stroking a path across her cheek.
Her body was on fire, the places where he touched her aching, and her heart thundered against her ribs.
“But I don’t want you to forget that while he is a king, you are the one he’s chasing. You’re the bright light that draws every set of eyes in the room. Any man should be blessed beyond measure to spend just five minutes enjoying your company.”
“Any man?” Ciana said, breathless. She fought the urge to fidget her hands. “Even you?”
The path of his thumb across her cheek halted. A pained expression flitted across his handsome face.
“Always me.” His words were barely more than a whisper.
She was nearly boiling. She was so tired of pretending. Of lying. Of deceiving. That was all it was with Nik, fun but fake.
This? This moment, right now? This was real. And gods, she fucking wanted it, more than anything.
So, when her impulses told her to lean forward, to feather her eyes closed, to let herself be pulled into him, she didn’t even try to fight them.
His lips brushed hers, just the barest of whispers. She felt his shaky exhale, the way his fingers tightened in her hair, the way he shifted, about to pull her even closer—
A heavy knock hammered on the door, shattering the moment into pieces.
Sebastian sprung away from her, leaping off the bed with wild eyes and a hand already on the dagger at his belt. Ciana felt hot and unsteady and a little woozy, her hands shaky as she finally let them twist together.
“Lady Visseau?” A male voice called from the other side of the door. “The king wishes to see if you are available for a walk this afternoon.”
Afternoon? Had she really slept the entire day away? She darted her gaze back to Sebastian, who now watched her with that familiar, guarded expression. All evidence of the relaxed, vulnerable man from a moment ago was gone, replaced with the I of the dutiful bodyguard.
Ciana swallowed, her headache returning as a dull pulsing in her skull, even as her chest tightened with a feeling she couldn’t—wouldn’t—name. “Yes,” she called. “I can be ready in an hour.”
By the time she’d bathed and dressed, her headache had subsided.
Not completely; it still lingered, just at the front of her head. But it was tolerable now, no longer crippling. She’d even managed to eat a few slices of bread and cheese that Sebastian had brought for her, washing the food down with more glasses of crisp water.
He’d lingered as she’d raced about her rooms. Not watching her, but his presence was there, a buzzing energy tingling in the air that she desperately tried to ignore.
Useless, but she made a solid attempt at it.
Ciana drew in a deep breath, smoothing the pleats of her simple yet flattering dress. She flung open the door, giving the waiting guard a bright smile, tossing her curls over her shoulders.
“I’m ready!” Her voice still felt a little hoarse, but she managed to make her words chirpy enough.
The guard nodded. “This way, please.” He started off down the hall.
Ciana cast one final glance over her shoulder, catching the frozen grimace etched across Sebastian’s face, before the door between them closed.
Remember what you’re here to do, Cee.
She straightened her shoulders.
The guard led her on a winding path through the woodland palace, the sunset through stained glass windows casting dazzling rainbow displays across arborous hallways.
They turned down a wing she didn’t recognize, and her spine went rigid when she saw Niktael waiting.
He wore a contemplative expression, arms crossed behind his back as he gazed out the window.
Nervous fear spiked through her. What if something had, in fact, gone wrong last night, and this was where he sent her packing? A failure, an embarrassment, unable to complete this task for her queen.