Page 21

“Call me Laurent when we’re alone.”

“Laurent,” she repeated obediently, her cheeks growing pink. She was lovely, the long column of her throat like poetry. Her pulse fluttered there, a little beat of temptation.

Later.

“Welcome to the Midnight Palace. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes…thank you. The servants have been kind.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” I turned my attention to the city, which sprawled before us in a grid of bustling streets and red-tiled rooftops. “What do you think of Lar Katerin?”

She followed my gaze. Her lips curved in a soft smile, and her voice went low with reverence. “It’s beautiful. The colors are so vivid.”

Her beauty was even more striking in profile, and her obvious awe loosened something inside me. I’d seen the city a thousand times. It held no mystery. But watching her admire it made me see it through new eyes. The neat and tidy houses. The golden domes of the banking district. In the distance, the obsidian columns of the Sanctum glittered in the evening light. Even the red-striped canopies that shielded the doorways of the brothels on Gate Street were inviting.

I leaned an elbow on the railing. “I always forget what it’s like seeing the world under the Deepnight after a spell in Sithistra. Your eyes will adjust in a day or two, and then the colors won’t be so overwhelming. You’ll grow accustomed to the cold, too.”

“You’ve been to Sithistra?”

“Plenty of times, although never so far south as Beldurn. Some official visits. Some not so official.” I smiled. “I’d prefer you avoid mentioning the not-so-official ones to your brother.”

Her expression turned frosty. “That won’t be a problem. I have nothing to say to him.”

Immediately, I reassessed my first impression of Given of Sithistra. There were thorns on this rose. It would be fun to find out just how sharp they were.

My attention snagged on a faint bruise emerging on her chin. “What’s this?” I asked, pointing.

She startled, her fingers going to her face. “Nothing, sir.”

“It’s Laurent. And your heart sped up when you lied to me just now.” I touched my fingertips to her cheek briefly. “Don’t do it again, Princess. I’ll always know.”

She lowered her gaze, but not before I saw the flash of fear. Abruptly, I realized Rolund could have forced the issue of her journey over the Rift. It wouldn’t be the first time a guardian used violence to compel a ward’s obedience, but the thought of him harming her tightened my gut. “Tell me how you got that mark.”

The order came out sharper than I intended, and she stiffened as she said, “It was Lord Varick.”

Surprise jolted me. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I…tried to slap him.”

Ah. That sounded like him. “Varick is sensitive to touch. I wouldn’t try that again if I were you.”

“I won’t.”

Our exchange had stolen her smile. To my surprise, guilt wafted through me. I’d come to welcome her to court. So far, I’d done nothing but issue thinly veiled threats.

And damn, but I really wanted to see her smile again.

I sucked my thumb into my mouth.

Her eyes widened. Interest stirred in the blue depths.

Satisfaction spread in my mind. Well, that’s a promising start.

I nicked my thumb on my fang and pressed it to her lips. Startled, she opened on a gasp, and then gasped again when I caressed her tongue.

The bruise on her chin vanished.

Then her pupils dilated. She jerked and cried out, her cheeks turning a brilliant pink. The heady scent of female desire flooded my lungs. But it was too much. Too intense for the tiny amount of blood I’d given her.