15. 14 #3
I opened my mouth, uncertain. He stepped back and closed the door, holding silvery fabric over one arm as he closed the wardrobe again.
He held it by its shoulders, and dropped the dress down.
I inhaled softly. It was an entirely modern garment, full of all the recent materials and styles imported from all across the continent. White taffeta sleeves fell into a fitted silver bodice, looped with chains. The shirt was a darker shade of grey, shimmering in the candlelight as if oiled.
“It is gorgeous.”
I stared at the dress for longer than I needed to, letting my pulse settle. Davian waited for the answer to his question, one I already knew but didn’t want to admit.
His voice was low as he asked with nothing more than a word. “Annie.”
I nodded, still looking at the dress. “I’ll come with you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his posture relax. Then he folded the dress, and placed it carefully back into the wardrobe.
I looked at the door again, wondering if this was it. If this was all he had wanted to ask me here for. A party, three days from now. Dress measurements. I wondered how he had come across the dress. If it had been hers.
When he closed the wardrobe again, and waited, I thought I could trust myself enough to meet his eyes. My fingernails carved red moons into my palm as I lifted my gaze to his face.
His face was hard to read. “Thank you.”
I only nodded, again wondering if this strange meeting was over.
He took a step forward. “This week. Did you work?”
“No," I said quickly. I swallowed as he took another step to the edge of the bed. Only two steps from me. “You paid me not to.”
Davian closed the distance to one step. His mouth curved upwards in a ghost of a smile. “Good girl.”
I blushed again. I still hadn’t left. Maybe that’s what he wanted, to feel the power of knowing I could leave and I hadn’t.
I nodded to him curtly. “I should get going. I’ll come back in three days. For the party.”
Davian looked at me, and his mouth pursed.
I turned before he could speak, my hand reaching for the door.
His hand shot out. And grabbed my arm. He touched me. Actually touched me. “Annie—”
My knees weakened as I froze, and his thumb rubbed over my upper arm. “Davian.”
“Can I—?” he stopped himself. He cleared his throat, his hand still on me.
I couldn’t move.
When he spoke again, his voice was uncertain. “Will you work?”
I did look at him, then. He was so close to me, staring down at my lips. Would I work? This week? My mouth was dry. “Why?”
Davian released my arm, and I could have wept.
Do not ask if it was relief or grief. But he did not move away from me.
We were so close I could see the edges of his mask, and an extra sliver of flesh usually totally hidden in shadow.
It was nothing; a hint of his other eyebrow.
And yet, it was a new map to explore, more expression to study and decipher.
“Some of the people at this event frequent the Eclipse. We can’t have anyone recognising you,” he said.
I didn’t have the capacity to determine if that was a falsehood. I only swallowed, and nodded.
His next question was not the one I wanted, not the one we both breathed and resisted. “How much did you get paid, as an Ekrissian?”
I knew why I resisted this pull. It would complicate too much, and it wasn’t the Ekrissian way. I did not know his own reasons. Murder, I reminded myself. He might be attracted to me, but he was probably still in love with his wife. I blinked up at him. “The clients always donated one gold.”
“Donated?” he asked.
“To Ekris,” I whispered.
I tried to think of my god now, but all I could see were silver eyes and brown skin, and a body I had wanted more than any other mortal man.
He flicked his eyes from my mouth to my eyes. “And to you?”
“We lived there under his grace,” I explained, my words falling as quiet as snow. “We worked only four evenings. Our rooms, our training, our board. All was covered.”
His eyes flashed in anger, but I did not flinch. I thought I understood Samiscus, for a moment. “So you made nothing?”
I shook my head. “They gave us one silver a week, on a Sunday, to spend how we wished. We were not allowed to drink or go anywhere unsavoury, but the time was ours.”
He breathed out through his nose, his nostrils flaring. “And if I wanted to make a donation now?”
An uncertain noise fell from my lips. “Davian.”
“If I offered you a gold,” he said, his eyes hard and flat, his mouth pressed together. “What then?”
I stared up at him, keeping hold of the tiny amount of composure I had left. “To not work?”
His eyes flashed, and fell to my mouth. “To work.”
Shit. To work. To work. He wanted to pay me? To work for him? I wondered if he knew I would have done it for free. I would have done it for a touch.
I took a step back. This wasn’t just sex now. This was a job, this was him paying a gold for an Ekrissian. There were rules.
He frowned, and his hand reached out. “Annie—”
“Under the terms of an Ekrissian?” I clarified.
His face loosened, realising my step back wasn’t a refusal. His hand clenched, and his eyes dropped to my chest, my breaths still too fast, my skin aflame.
Davian’s voice was barely more than a moan. “Under any terms you wish.”
I swallowed to keep that needy noise from coming out again. If I wanted to get back into Ekris’ loving embrace after this, I had to keep myself pure. I had to keep myself prepared to join his harem when I died.
I closed my eyes and spoke the words I had spoken to many patrons over many years.
“I offer you my hands and mouth, where you wish them. You may not penetrate me,” I said. Then, I added a caveat that wasn’t strictly part of our code. “And no kissing on the mouth.”
“Fuck.” He ran a hand over his mouth, pausing as he reached the mask.
My breath hitched. “Can you take off your mask?”
He paused, a flicker of some indeterminable emotion crossing his features. “That is not for now.”
He stepped towards me, his breath leaving him in a rush as he cupped my face and pressed a searing kiss to my neck. I gasped as he sucked on the skin and nipped me before pulling back. His voice was like honey. “Then I accept.”