Chapter 29 Lady Elizabeth #2
After she had initially refused a gown by stating to Fiza that it was too revealing for her taste, he had enjoyed irking her further by sending her the most lewd gowns he could find: tiny slips of fabric, hardly suitable for formal wear, and picturing her scandalized face when she saw them.
The thought of her hopping mad amused him to no end, even if it was a waste of gold.
It was worth reminding her that she was nothing—that he could force her to wear whatever he liked, if he really wanted to. He could throw out every single gown in her chambers except those that ill-befitted a lady, if he so chose. Her comfort was now at his discretion.
He drained his goblet and told Mammond he wouldn’t be able to go hunting tonight. In response to Mammond’s questioning look, he simply murmured he had other prey in mind. Mammond chortled and waved him off with a roguish wink.
His prey didn’t know he was there though, and he spent the night watching her from a window near the library.
Elizabeth sat in a leather armchair by the window, curled up with yet another book.
His legs cramped from staying crouched for so long, with only the top half of his face visible above the window ledge so that even if she looked up, she wouldn’t see him watching her.
Caspian stared at her, as if every turn of a page might reveal one of her secrets.
She did nothing of interest, however, and retired to bed at a perfectly reasonable hour.
***
The next morning, Caspian followed her again. He woke up at an ungodly hour with the sun just starting to rise and flew around the castle to peer in her window. He was surprised to see she was already gone.
He searched the castle for her and caught a whiff of her honey and lavender scent near the entrance to the castle grounds.
Caspian saw motion in the stables and perched atop the stone wall like a gargoyle, hiding just out of sight. His knees barked uncomfortably as he waited.
Truthfully, he loved the chase. When he hunted, he was content to sit in the bushes for hours before a doe bounded happily by, unaware that predators could be very patient.
The stable doors creaked open, and there she was—dressed for riding, her hair plaited and thrown over her shoulder. The way Draugr responded to her made his jaw clench. The beast had nearly taken Lial’s arm off last month, and now here he was, nuzzling her palm like a gentle pony.
How had she bewitched him?
Elizabeth mounted up, sitting sidesaddle, and they set off. Draugr’s stride wasn’t in great, jolting steps like it usually was; it was relaxed and gentle, his fierce stallion rendered to nothing but a soft-hearted mare.
A sprinkle of rain fell from the clouds overhead, but still, she smiled.
She took the same trail as yesterday, and as she emerged from the forest, he was surprised to see she was no longer alone.
Ambriel. That dick of an angel was there. The angel swooped in and narrowly avoided Draugr’s teeth, which he had attempted to close on the tender membranes of the angel’s wing.
Good horse, Caspian thought furiously.
The two of them stood very close together. How had they been introduced, let alone become friends?
They didn’t embrace, and Elizabeth didn’t kiss or touch him in any manner that could be deemed inappropriate. But when she was with him, she looked … lighter and smiled more broadly. Her demure court mask fell away when she was around him, and she smiled with genuine joy.
The sight made his blood boil.
She laughed at something the angel said, walking Draugr to the edge of the clearing.
Elizabeth shouted something at Ambriel and started galloping across the plain. After a moment, the angel joined.
They were ... racing.
Seeing that he was in danger of losing, the angel started flying at a breakneck pace, trying to catch up. She won by a couple of yards, and they whooped and circled the plain, lining up to race once again.
Clearly, Ambriel had lost, but the fool had given her a head start. They raced twice more, with the angel winning one and Elizabeth winning the last. Each time, they had only won by a hair’s breadth.
She laughed and clapped in victory.
They shook hands, and she walked off, smiling broadly.
Caspian looked down at his own wings. He had never shown a mortal his wings.
Later that day, dinner was a silent affair.
Elizabeth wore a powder-blue dress that she must have brought from Briarton. Apparently, all the dresses he’d bought her, even the modest ones, weren’t good enough for her. His lip curled.
In the evening, he wandered around the castle searching for her.
He found her in the library again, reading.
How could one woman spend so much of her day reading?
He didn’t approach her, but observed her from afar, his eyes nearly hidden behind the bookshelf.
After a time, her eyes began to close, and her grip on the book slackened. He waited, watching the rise and fall of her chest, and slipped out from behind the bookshelf.
Fiza had done her hair in a pretty updo for dinner, with a crown of braids. She looked beautiful in slumber, with an elegant jawline, a long, slender nose, and full lips. A true noblewoman.
Her nose twitched, and he stepped back, alarmed. He waited a few heartbeats, but her breathing remained even. He relaxed. She was still fast asleep. Her arms trembled.
He frowned.
She was cold.
Mortals and their fragile bodies.
Rolling his eyes, he left the library, shutting the door as quietly as possible. He retrieved a blanket and returned to her.
He laid the blanket over her gently, so as not to wake her.
Caspian stared at her, watching her lips curve upwards into a small smile. She looked relaxed—more unguarded than he had ever seen her. She snuggled further into the chair, looking content in her slumber.
At least now she wouldn’t freeze.
Backing away slowly, he left the library.
In the hall outside, he nearly collided with Maud carrying a bucket and a mop. “Watch where you’re going, water demon,” he snarled.
Maud raised her brows and resettled the mop and bucket in her hands.
“What are you staring at?” Caspian hissed.
Maud inclined her head. “Nothing, Master.” She paused and said carefully, “I was about to clean the floors in the library.”
He scowled. “Do it another night.”
Maud blinked, then bobbed into a quick curtsey and strode back down the hall.
Better to be seen as a cruel master than to have her spot the reason for his ire: the mortal napping in his library with a blanket he had covered her with. He didn’t want any of his servants to think he might be turning soft.