Page 37 of Cursed Evermore

The creak of the door broke the silence. My heart leapt and lodged in my throat.

Blessed Mother. He was here.

I pulled in a deep breath and turned toward the door just as it opened. And there he was.

Thayden strode in with the confidence of a man who owned everything.

With his shoulder-length golden hair and sculpted arrogance, he was the kind of handsome that made women swoon and men seethe.

Tonight, he wore a deep blue doublet that clung to his tall, muscled frame like a secret.

He looked noticeably older to me, as expected. More like a man, with his neatly trimmed beard and less of the boyish charm I remembered from the twenty-three-year-old I once knew.

I was sure I had that same thought every time I saw him.

His eyes swept over the room briefly before landing on me. And then I saw it. That glint in his gaze. It spoke of what my mother and others meant when they said how fond he was of me.

A twinkle sparked in the depths of his eyes as he took me in, standing awkwardly in this too-tight peach dress that felt smaller under the weight of his stare.

Apparently,he’dbought me this dress as an engagement present. He’d had it specially made for me by the finest seamstress in Zyvaris.

As I watched him, even I couldn’t deny what I saw in his eyes. I’d go as far as saying he looked more than simplyfondof me.

My skin prickled with that awareness.

I wasn’t sure if any of it was good or bad. Maybe it was neither. And maybe it didn’t matter because it didn’t detract from my prior thoughts of him being with one of his women.

A twinge of a smile dipped his lips as he drew nearer, shoulders squared and chin tilted just so. He stopped a few paces away from me and gave me a slight bow.

“You look beautiful, Elariya.” His voice slid over me like oil on water, smooth and slick, never quite sinking beneath the surface.

“Thank you,Sir Thayden.” My voice sounded far away and wary. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Something dulled his eyes, and his smile thinned. “You don’t have to call me Sir. Call me what you always call me.” His voice softened to a tone that might have sounded sincere to anyone who hadn't seen him order a man whipped for stealing bread.

“Thayden.” I gave him a polite smile. The kind you’d reserve for someone you weren’t sure about but didn’t want to offend.

“At least you remember that.” He came closer and looked at the books on the desk. He traced a finger over the swirly letters on the title of Father’s Latin book and paused as if in deep contemplation before slowly returning his gaze to me. “Everytime I come here, I keep praying you’ll remember more about me, but I know it’s silly. You still believe you last saw me when you were fifteen.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just the way the curse works.”

I supposed I should be grateful I could speak freely to him about it.

“Of course. But no harm in wishful thinking, right?”

“No. I suppose not.”

He motioned to the chaise in the corner beneath the painting. “Let’s sit and talk for a moment.” It wasn’t a question. So, despite everything I’d told myself, I moved. His eyes tracked me as I walked, drifting over my body. Lingering in places I wished they wouldn’t.

I sat, folding my hands in my lap, while he lowered next to me.

“Are you well? Your mother told me you’ve been missing your father a great deal.”

I wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But I supposed she felt the need to offer him some explanation in case my sullen mood returned, or if I suffered any more side effects from portaling. “I’m fine. I just… miss him. In my mind it’s only been a few days since he’s been gone, but in truth it’s been years.”

Something that looked like sympathy flickered in his eyes. “I do understand. I’m sure it can’t be easy… living the way you have.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “If there were some mortal cure, I’d search the corners of the earth to find it. I’d find your father, too.”

For a moment, I almost believed him. Almost let myself feel it—something endearing about him. Until his gaze hardened.