39. Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
Eryk had a private box in a circular open-air theatre. Somewhat like the council chambers, but far less austere.
The theatre felt warm and joyous in comparison to the darkness of the library or anywhere else I’d been in Viverna.
In front of us, the stage was set with painted props and wooden panelling depicting a forest scene. I’d never seen something like this on a scale so grand. The tiered seating ringed around the stage was packed with patrons eager for entertainment.
The festivities of the production in front of me had me relaxing after the uncomfortable encounter with Huxley.
“Thank you for coming to my aid. I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there,” I joked as we took our seats.
He hummed in answer.
I smiled sheepishly. “This,” I said with a hand to the flurry of colours. Ribbons and banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, and music floated around us. “The day out. I needed it. A distraction.”
Eryk smiled down at me. His silver strands of hair looked distinguished in the afternoon sun. It had crossed my mind more than once about how he’d aged. But my meandering thoughts were cut off by Eryk’s interjection.
“Your eyes.” His gaze landed on my violet irises. “Your dress, it brings out the fire in them.”
My fingers felt for the teal green fabric that now seemed too close to my skin under Eryk’s scrutiny. I offered a half-hearted smile, unsure what to do with the compliment.
“And, of course,” I cleared my throat as I tried to steer the topic from me. “What you did for Kaed.” I smoothed the fine fabric of my skirts. “Saving him from the council. I don’t know how I’ll repay you for that.”
“It might surprise you to know, Lady Imogen, that your betrothed”—he said the word like it was a seed stuck in his teeth that he wanted to spit out—“came to me to offer his debt in place of yours.”
“He did what!”
Some patrons shushed me from beside us as I’d shouted.
“I told him no, of course.” Eryk kept his eyes on the players before us. He looked like he was barely registering our conversation as he feigned interest in the show.
He had turned down Kaed’s offer? Surely, a prince could offer more than I could?
“And I know what you’re thinking,” he said, leaning into me, his eyes not straying from the performance, “but I don’t want what Kaedian can offer me. I want what you can.” His voice had dipped an octave, and there was a rumble in his throat as he spoke.
“I’m …” Something pulled on my vocal cords until they plucked in staccato notes. “Not sure what I can give you,” I hedged.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing you’ll miss once it’s given.” His smile broadened as the players danced in synchronisation.
I held my breath.
“Try not to worry about it for now. Enjoy the show. We’ve plenty of time to discuss it.” He clapped with vigour as the scene ended.
My spine felt like steel in winter as I endured the spectacle before me.
The players performed their lines. Their shapes and sounds like vapour on the wind, lost to the tumultuous roiling in my mind.
Kaed had been right. Nothing was free. I just didn’t yet know the price I’d paid.
Eryk hadn’t said anything else during the performance. Maybe I’d imagined the undercurrent of tension that laced his voice. A thread of desire that had edged his tone when he’d spoken about the debt I owed.
I wasn’t blind. Eryk had been friendly, and that rarely came without strings. I had learned that with Bray. I had handled things very badly with my childhood friend, so maybe I was just on tenterhooks about Eryk.
Being alone with him wasn’t the issue.
But being alone with anyone who wanted something from me was an unnerving place to find myself in.
Eryk was tall, handsome, charming and well-spoken. And he cared about the Four Corners. Even if he thought Kaed and the Crown didn’t. I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t.
There were so many endearing qualities about Eryk.
But something held me back from thinking of him as anything but Eryk.
Which, of course, was ridiculous. I wasn’t actually engaged to be married to Kaed. There was no substance to our charade we’d played since arriving in Viverna.
But everything Eryk knew about me was built on that lie.
“Well, that was something.” Eryk swaggered out of the booth at my side. The theatre had emptied, and we were in the swarm.
“Something,” I agreed.
He laughed and took my hand to pull me along.
A jolt went through me at the unexpected contact. The wound was healed, but my skin itched regardless. I didn’t pull away. Would that be rude? It was crowded after all, and he was taller and maybe could see beyond the mass of people around us.
“I said … was a pro-uction … I didn’t … sa … a good … oduction.” His voice was lost to the crowd around us.
“Eryk?”
The pull on my hand to his was drawn and stretched to its fullest. With a strong yank on my arm, he had me through the throng.
“I’ve got you,” he said, as I tumbled into his arms until they were wrapped entirely around me.
I’d have fidgeted, but my arms were pinned between Eryk’s chest and mine. My teeth worried the edge of my lip as I shifted in the cramped space.
“Hey? What’s wrong? Look at me.” His hand came to touch my chin, but he stopped before he made contact.
I couldn’t look up at him. “I should get back.”
“I’m sorry, Imogen. What did I do?” His voice was searching, gentle.
Space grew a little between us, and I could breathe again.
What had he done? Had he actually done anything, or was I just in my head again?
“Nothing.” I forced a smile. “Can you take me home?”
His face fell at my request. And then hardened. “I thought, perhaps, after the other night, what I did for Kaedian. For you.” His words were a javelin. “There might be a little bit of a thought spared for me. I was just trying to do something nice. For you. For both of us today.”
“Us?”
“Us. Yes. You and I. We enjoy each other’s company. I would wager you enjoy my company more than Kaedian’s.”
Dangerous. This was dangerous territory.
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” His retort was whip-fast, and it forced my focus back to him.
We were farther from the crowd now, and there were quiet streets around us.
The base of my neck beaded with cold sweat. I didn’t know this male who stood before me. Not really. The understanding of that drifted over me like misty rain, soaking deep into me.
Library meetings and comments of friendship. Even what he did for Kaed. I didn’t know him.
“No,” I said in as steady a voice as I could manage.
Breathe.
“Prove it.”
I did a bit of a double-take and blinked at him like he’d just asked what colour my undergarments were.
“Prove it?” I said, taking a step away from him.
He noticed the space I put between us. “I just mean you don’t seem happy.” He raised his hands like he was attempting to pacify an animal. “And I want you to prove you are.” He paused with a hint of a grin on his lips. “Kiss me.”
I actually wasn’t sure I’d even heard him correctly.
“Kiss me,” he said again, hands still raised.
My jaw worked, but my words didn’t; I didn’t have a response.
I should have had one.
I should have said no. Instantly.
“I’m … I can’t. I’m … Kaed. We’re engaged.” But the tremor in my voice betrayed my lie.
“You want to, though.” He took a step towards my space.
“No.”
I wasn’t sure whether that was truthful or another lie.
Why couldn’t I kiss Eryk? We weren’t breaking any real rules.
“Your betrothal will still stand if you kiss me. I don’t have to tell anyone.” He clasped his hands behind him in feigned detachment. “And, besides, nothing so small could mean the end of such a powerful romance.”
He was testing me. He was testing Kaed.
I just wasn’t sure if he was testing our story—were we more or less than we had said to everyone—or was he testing my character after he’d just spoken for Kaed in the council chambers?
A trickle of panic that skittered up my spine.
No wonder he didn’t want Kaed to pay the debt if this was what he was after.
“Is that what you want? From me?” The hum of my blood drowned my words in the quiet street.
Recognition flared in his eyes. “I’m glad we understand one another. I just want to know you a little more, Lady Imogen.”
I swallowed and hoped my lip wasn’t trembling.
This was his play. This was Eryk’s price. And I’d agreed to pay it before I’d known what it was.
Kaed had said I didn’t have to pay any price. Not for him.
I knew Kaed wouldn’t have left the air in Eryk’s lungs for breathing such a suggestion. He was protective, or possessive. However I wanted to see it.
But Kaed wasn’t here.
And that was for the best because I thought he would love any excuse to hit Eryk, even one so small as kissing his captive.
The real question was, did I have a choice? Did I ever have a choice? Not because I’d paid Eryk’s price blindly. But because I knew deep down, to the stitching of my soul, that I couldn’t risk Kaed’s pain again. I couldn’t risk Eryk withdrawing his support.
Iron settled beneath my skin, and my fingers clenched until the knuckles were white. “Alright.” My shoulders knotted into a rampart around me.
Eryk’s eyes brightened. He took my hand again. “Not here,” he said, escorting me along an avenue with trees that broke the stone that held their roots.
Eryk led us to a beautiful bench beneath a hawthorn tree, overlooking the bay. The blossoms were wide and lazy in the afternoon sun.
It was pretty here. And there was no one around to see us.
“It’s just a kiss.” He’d sprawled until his frame felt too large for the bench.
It was just a kiss.
And Eryk was handsome.
And Kaed wasn’t my betrothed. He was my kidnapper. My domineering protector.
Eryk’s hand was soft as it cradled my neck. His hands didn’t drift or wander as he coaxed me to lean into him.
My blood rushed everywhere in my body. Adrenaline, not excitement. It had the effect Eryk wanted, though, because he grinned at my reaction, mistaking my flush for heat, not the blood trying to burst from me as my heart thundered.
“Just a kiss,” he whispered again.
“Just a kiss,” I echoed as I struggled with the words.
And I could only think of Kaed as Eryk’s lips met mine.
It was nothing like I expected. It was everything a kiss should be. Tender, passionate. A little probing as he pushed the confines of my mouth. His lips parted, and his tongue was wet and explored anything it could find.
But it felt like nothing I wanted.
It was cold. A metallic taste of iron stained his tongue as it moved. His lips smacked as he kept taking from mine.
Kissing Bray had felt wrong after I was honest with myself; kissing your friend and finding that’s all they were was an awkward thing once you disentangled.
But this felt entirely different. Devoid of compassion.
This had been Eryk’s price. His price for Kaed’s freedom.
And I had just paid it.