Page 94 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)
GLITTER ON THE FLOOR
LUELLA
L uella awoke with desire pounding between her thighs and the memory of moans being carried across the serene surface of a lake.
Bastian hovered over her, a cold hand cupping her cheek as he roused her.
"It’s time," he murmured, voice low and thick with sleep.
Strands of mussed, black hair hung messily around his face as he leaned over her.
Half-lidded, deep maroon eyes bore into hers—it was too early to be consumed so utterly.
She was so exhausted, each blink burned.
Would it be so bad to just…
Her eyes drifted closed as she burrowed deeper into the pillows and sheets, inhaling heady chocolate and bergamot.
"I don’t think so, pet." Bastian gently tugged away the blankets from her chin and urged her to sit up with strong hands on her shoulders.
Her eyes stayed closed, too heavy to lift just yet.
"Sleepy thing," he commented, as if to himself, while he soothed over her sleep-rumpled hair. He lightly patted her cheek and pressed his lips to her ear, whispering, "I know you don’t want to bathe alone, and we don’t have time for you and Az to bathe together.
Your maids are in the bathing chambers with soap-soaked cloths and will help you dress for the journey. "
At the mention of Az’s name, she roused, fingers curling in Bastian’s shirt. She cracked her heavy eyes open, thankful that the curtains were drawn and her room was still cast in comforting darkness.
"Okay," she croaked.
"Let’s get you up." Bastian helped her stand, and she couldn’t help but lean into his side heavily, plagued with exhaustion.
Through bleary eyes, she noted the door to the bathing chambers was open, and Osa’s harsh voice filtered from within. Only a few candles were lit, shrouding her room in the pretense of night.
Luella rubbed her eyes. "How long was I asleep?"
Bastian steered her toward the bathing chambers and said, "A couple of hours. It’s nearly dawn. Vale and the others are already at the stables, preparing the horses for our journey. Az just left."
She smiled at Bastian’s use of her name for the demon. She liked it. Liked that they got along.
The threads were soothed, and she did not hear rainfall. But she couldn’t help but feel it was the calm before the storm.
Bastian pressed an achingly gentle kiss to her crown and urged her to step inside the bathing chambers. "Go. I’ll wait for you here."
She stumbled away from him, nodding.
The delicate chain of the amulet was tangled under Tharen’s shirt, and she tugged down the neckline, too sleepy to care that it revealed the soft, lacy mesh of her brassiere, as she straightened the silver chain.
The stone was warm under her fingertips—either from her body heat or the inherent magic contained within it.
As she padded into the bathing chambers, the floor pleasantly warm under her bare feet, she recalled her dreams—her visions of the past.
Enora and Caliban, entwined on the serene shore of that gorgeous lake. He held her so sweetly, so lovingly, each touch laced with care. It was as if whatever granted her the visions knew how worked up she was and taunted her with things she couldn’t have. Affection. Peace. Intimacy.
Luella took a shaky breath as Ina and Osa turned to her. The dark water in the bathing pool rippled. She looked away.
Osa demanded she take off Tharen’s shirt, and Luella fisted the hem, throat tight. Why was it so hard to let this piece of him go ?
But she did.
His shirt fell to the floor, and she tried not to look at it again—a losing battle.
Osa was quiet. She knew it was because Bastian was right outside, listening. Ina was her usual self, sweet and encouraging. It warmed something inside Luella to know that the female did not bother with false kindnesses. Her friend.
Her skin was cleaned with soapy cloths, each brush of the soft fabric making her almost dizzy as she tried to fight the exhaustion threatening to pull her back into dreams. Over the drip of water and Osa’s one-sided commands to Ina, Luella faintly heard voices from the cracked door of the bathing chamber: Bastian’s low, silky tone and Az’s gruff responses.
Her chin quivered. Why was she so melancholic? Why did she feel like this… this journey was the start of something new—something terrifying?
Ina pressed simple undergarments into her hands.
Luella had to make do in the bathing chambers, as she did not want to enter her room and use the changing partition; though, Bastian had already seen most of her…
Her pleasure lessons felt like a dream already, something that had not happened to her , but to someone else.
Luella tugged the tightly fitted leather pants up her legs.
They molded to her skin, the band sitting just above her belly button.
Her shirt was white and billowy with laces at the front.
Luella struggled to tie them, and when she was finished, she tugged on the loose hem as she turned and faced the two maids.
Ina fit a corset around her waist—a dark leather that matched her pants—and tugged, leaving Luella breathless as the bones of it cut into her ribs.
It hugged her waist and soft curves, and her white blouse billowed at the top and bottom, ruffles peeking out from under the corset.
Her boots were sturdy and comfortable, the soles padding her feet.
In her tired state, it was all a blur to Luella.
Her white hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders, and her face was bare of paint.
Osa’s eyes narrowed, but she was silent, her resentment simmering just under the surface. Ina patted Luella on the shoulder. The two maids trailed after Luella as she exited the bathing chambers, leaving her room without a second glance.
Bastian and Az stood in the dim light of her room, waiting for her.
She swallowed under their twin scrutiny—both with solemn eyes, and both were dressed similarly to her, in garments fit for a long journey. She wondered when Bastian had had the time to sneak away and change…
"You’re ready, Lu?" Az rasped.
Why was she shaking so much?
"Yes," she whispered—an untruth. She could lie again, at least.
Bastian extended a hand, and her eyes dipped to it before she hesitantly placed her hand in his.
"We must hurry. The King is waiting," Bastian said as he led her from the room.
Az fell into step beside her, and she was caught between them as they walked through the darkened halls. The demon’s fingers laced with hers, and just at the simple touch, she felt tears prick at her eyes.
She hadn’t told him she loved him yet. She peeked over at him, seeing his deep skin and the curve of his horns in the dying blue light of the enchanted flames. He found her staring and gave a sweet smile.
He seemed not to want to say those three words in the company of Bastian, so he simply uttered a soft, "Always."
She returned it in kind. "Always, Az." Her fingers tightened on his.
They drew near to the throne room. The double doors were wide open, golden light from dawn spilling down from the glass dome of the ceiling, interspersed with darkness from the blanket of clouds above.
This—the aftermath of the Solstice celebrations, the revelry of Serpentis.
Swaths of blue silk tangled in darkened corridors, glass bottles scattered on every surface.
Enchanted embers floated through the air, dust caught in the occasional ray of early morning light.
The candles of the chandelier above still burned, wax dripping down the sides as they reached their end.
Blue, gold, blue. It was all blue and gold. And sin.
Coats thrown over the backs of chairs, butts of cigars littering the floor.
Even a few high-heeled shoes lay discarded. Luella imagined the female shifters taking them off to dance barefoot amid the fall of blue embers as the night had raged on.
Shards of slowly melting ice.
Glitter on the floor. Glitter on the walls.
Candlewax grown cold.
The air held a magical sort of stillness.
She had never felt so alone.
Somehow, her feet had stalled. Az broke the silence:
"Lu." His voice was thick. Did he feel it too? The way everything teetered on the precipice of change? "Let’s go."
"Sorry," she breathed. "I don’t know what I’m doing…"
Bastian’s thumb rubbed over the back of her hand. "Then follow our lead." His words were reminiscent of the evening prior—her pleasure lessons, where he instructed her to do as he did.
Her lips parted with a half-formed plea— let me stay, don’t make me do this. But the moment passed, swallowed by the hush of the waking palace.
An invisible noose constricted around her neck. As if making a trek to the gallows, Luella’s feet dragged as they left the remnants of revelry.