Page 23 of City of Promise and Light (Mates of Gods and Fae #1)

Sybil

N ot anymore? My brows knitted together, waiting for Ambrose to explain.

“As of today, you were added to my court, which makes you one of us and in need of attire worthy of that.”

I blinked, unable to think of words—any words—to say.

Ambrose laughed at the shock that took over my face.

That wariness doubled when Ambrose’s pleasant smile widened as if he did me some incredible favor.

Those warning bells screamed for me to go back to the palace, to the safety of Samian’s presence.

Noticing my discomfort, Ambrose pulled me closer until my body rested against his, and I could feel every hard muscle beneath his shirt.

I swallowed a gasp as a surge of warming comfort rushed through me, traveling low in my stomach as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

The unease I had felt quickly vanished and my brows furrowed, but Ambrose grinned, and my apprehension melted away.

Ambrose turned to the street, his eyes searching for where we should start first. Once he found the store, he tugged me along while my mind swam at how quickly I had relaxed from his touch.

Ambrose didn’t stop pulling me along until we reached a little shop that smelled of musk and leather.

Opening the door, Ambrose gestured for me to enter.

Beautiful leather bags, boots, and other leathered goods lined the walls and tables.

My eyes widened as I walked to a dark brown bag.

My fingers ran over the floral designs etched into the soft leather. I had never seen anything like it.

“Do you like that one?” Ambrose murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against my neck.

My body trembled, my face heating at his nearness. Nodding, I looked away, not wanting him to see the flush creeping up my neck.

Ambrose called over the attendant, handing him the bag while we walked around the shop.

I found a smaller bag that matched the one I found earlier, along with a pair of black leather boots that I could wear during training or when I traveled out of the palace.

As the attendant boxed my items, Ambrose made me wait by the door while he paid the owner.

Once he was finished, Ambrose took my hand, holding it tightly as we made our way across the street to the next shop.

Ambrose held the door open for me again, giving me a gentle smile.

The shop turned out to be a boutique, and my eyes widened at the different colors of fabrics that filled the shop.

Mannequins lined the far left wall, displaying different types of dresses—some with full skirts, while others were fitted to show off the lines of the person who wore it. Each one was beautiful and splendid.

A female attendant excitedly rushed toward us, her eyes wide and eager, ready to help Ambrose with all his needs while ignoring me completely.

Rolling my eyes, I exhaled and walked to the fabrics closest to us while Ambrose discussed what he was looking for in hushed tones.

I glanced over to them when the attendant giggled, finding Ambrose sliding a finger gently down her arm.

Swallowing, my stomach twisted, and I walked in further, hoping the yards of fabric would block the view.

Spotting a reel of beautiful dark green silk, I rubbed my thumb across the smooth top before letting it glide across my hand, falling back into place.

“That color would look amazing on you,” Ambrose murmured softly behind me, his voice deep and luxurious.

Gasping, I turned around, meeting his gaze, my heart beating wildly against my chest. My eyes narrowed and my lips rose in a small playful smile. “Do you do this with all the ladies of your court?” I teased, though I secretly hoped he would say no.

Ambrose laughed and stepped closer, his face bright. “No, I don’t do this with all the ladies of my court. Just the ones that interest me,” he purred.

I lifted my chin and studied him—the lines of his jaw, his lips, the way his eyes shone in the light, looking like the deepest ocean. “Do I interest you?” It sounded like a challenge, I realized, but I refused to back down, especially when his smile turned downright lethal.

“I find you incredibly interesting.”

Heat curled low in my stomach, and I could hardly breathe.

The fire that glowed in his eyes felt so intense that I had to look away.

Turning back to the fabric, I slid my hand across it.

“I love colors like this,” I said, changing the subject, trying to ignore the weight of his stare.

“Darker colors feel comforting, like they match who I am, if that makes sense.”

“They pair well with certain nighttime activities, as well,” Ambrose drawled, sliding his heavy hand down the side of my waist.

My breath hitched, heat pooling low in my stomach.

How long had it been since I’d felt this warmth?

With Liam, it was nothing more than a comfort, a way to pass the time.

It was something I just went along with because I knew how much he wanted it.

But Ambrose’s touch made me feel awake. It made me want to feel more.

I opened my mouth—to say what, I wasn’t sure—just as the attendant appeared, telling us a room was ready to take my measurements. Any heat I felt was quickly doused.

Following the attendant to the room, I paused, looking back to Ambrose, who lingered at the deep green silk.

His hand ran over the delicate fabric, lost in thought.

The woman cleared her throat again, annoyed at my dawdling.

With one last look at Ambrose, I pushed any emotions I felt for him down and quickly made my way to the room.

After being poked and prodded, I felt exhausted when the attendants finally finished clearing their things.

They sent me out to the main floor in a dark lavender floor-length skirt with a fitted cream top that formed a deep v down the middle and showed off the swell of my breasts.

The skirt wasn’t cotton or silk; it was soft and smooth, and I had been too afraid to ask the tight-lipped woman what it was made from.

The attendant had braided the top of my ashy brown hair, letting the rest fall down my back in waves.

I felt odd, like I was playing dress-up.

The outfit was beautiful, though. I looked soft and feminine.

I found Ambrose waiting patiently on a chaise with a glass of wine.

Spotting me, he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips rising as he swept his gaze over me.

Ambrose stood and quickly closed the distance between us, extending his hand for me to take.

My cheeks flushed and I took his hand, letting him spin me around before pulling me into him.

“You are absolutely breathtaking, my dear Sybil,” Ambrose said gently, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I blushed and put the back of my hand against my face. “You’re exaggerating,” I breathed.

“Oh, I assure you, there is no exaggerating how lovely you look.” His voice darkened as he took me in, his eyes lingering on the deep cut of my shirt. My body felt too hot, too thin under the intensity of his stare.

Taking a steadying breath, I faced the door, the blush on my cheeks deepening.

Ambrose laughed softly, then led me to the chaise to sit while he settled our account.

Embarrassment coiled inside of me. I was too old to be acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

But those eyes, that touch, I couldn’t help but want more.

We left the boutique, and Ambrose took my hand, pressing a soft kiss to it as we walked down the cobbled street. “I was thinking we could stop by a little tea shop that I think you would love. We can rest and talk before we return to the palace. Does that sound okay?”

“I think that sounds amazing,” I said, placing a hand on my empty stomach.

Like yesterday, Samian and I had planned to have our breakfast in the library to avoid Arianna and the dining hall.

Because of that, and this date as Ambrose called it, I hadn’t been able to eat, and my stomach cramped as if it were devouring itself.

We walked to a quaint tea shop that had a small section laid out for tables.

The shop was busy, but the owners were able to find us a table right away.

The inside was a light blue with a flowery wallpaper that gave it a whimsical feel.

Ambrose ordered for us while I studied the fae around us.

They were all so beautiful that their elegance and grace never ceased to amaze me.

Given Ambrose’s status, many of those in the shop eyed us, curious about who I was and, I’m sure, my relationship with Ambrose.

The constant stares made me want to slip further into my chair and hide.

Ambrose acted oblivious to the constant attention, like he was used to it all, but the pleasant smile plastered on his face looked forced.

“So,” he purred, “what questions could our dear Sybil have for me?”

I paused, thinking back to the question that had been nagging me all day. “Why did you add me to your court?”

“Hmm,” he murmured, pausing to consider his answer. “To reside in the palace, you must be a noble or linked to one with noble blood in some way. I wanted to keep you close, therefore, I made you a part of my court.” He shrugged, simple as that.

Thinking of Samian and his warnings, I hesitated with my next question, but the need to know ate away at me, so I forced myself to ask. “Is Samian a part of your court, as well?”

“No,” Ambrose said, his forced smile twitching. “He is not part of my court, nor will he ever be. He is not officially a noble, though he resides in the palace under special circumstances.”

I shifted in my seat at the sharpness in his voice, but continued my questions. “Samian told me about Queen Cassia. Wouldn’t she need to approve of me being added to your court?”

Any pretense of pleasantry, fake or not, was abandoned with my question.

Ambrose’s smile faltered; his face hardened, and his eyes glinted with warning.

Tapping his finger against the table, Ambrose leaned back, staring, unblinking, at me before taking a deep breath.

Slipping his fake smile back into place, he let out a small laugh.

I shrank at how easily he slid back into that charming pretense of his.

“No, I do not need her approval. As the queen’s advisor, I take her place in palace decisions when she is not available to do so. What exactly has Samian said about the queen?”

“Not much, just that she was kind, and that she’s traveling, I think.”

Ambrose hummed and picked at the table. Our conversation halted with the arrival of our tea and plates of pastries and petits fours.

The silence grew thick as the servers arranged the plates and poured our tea.

After they left, Ambrose flashed a smile, but his eyes remained distant as he gestured for me to try the tea.

I took a sip; the floral taste felt warm and relaxing.

Ambrose filled my plate with an assortment of sweets and watched me try each one.

Each tiny cake looked perfect and delicately soft, but they tasted like ash in my mouth.

I had just taken a bite of my third petit four when Ambrose set down his cup with a sigh.

“I apologize,” he said softly. “I fear I may have made you uncomfortable with your last question. It wasn’t my intention.

Being the queen’s advisor comes with certain difficulties, such as accusations of overreaching.

That is why I tend to shut down when asked such questions.

However,” he said, reaching out and gently wrapping his hand around mine, “I should have realized that you were just asking to learn how our world works here. For that, I am sorry.”

Tightening his hand around mine, Ambrose rubbed his thumb in tiny circles along the top of my hand, and I gave him a weak smile.

It was true that I was curious about how the palace operated and his role within it, but I also couldn’t deny my lingering suspicion after Samian’s warnings.

However, after spending time with Ambrose, my perception of him was quickly changing.

He was charismatic and enchanting. It was easy to fall for his sweet murmurings and warm touches.

He had acted like we were close companions from the moment we met, and that made me feel comfortable and safe.

It was getting harder to believe Samian’s cautioning.

“It’s okay,” I said, placing my other hand on top of his. “I get it. It’s hard not to react when you’ve constantly had to deal with issues like that. I’m the same way.”

“It seems like we have something in common,” he said, giving me a soft smile before pulling my hand to him and placing a tender kiss on top.

My mind zeroed in on where his lips met my hand.

His lips were soft and pleasant, and my body seemed to hum at his touch.

My heart jumped when he placed another kiss a little higher on my hand.

I swallowed thickly, a rush of heat sweeping through me and pooling low.

I let out a nervous laugh, and he gave my hand a soft squeeze before letting it slide away.

Images of him kissing other places flashed across my mind.

I quickly reached for my tea, taking a sip to wash away those thoughts before they morphed into something else.

Ambrose was a flirtatious man; I needed to remind myself of that.

He was just being nice to me. None of it meant anything to him.

But even as I repeated that silently to myself, I knew he was someone I needed to be very careful around.