Page 77 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Sixty-One

Quell

A thousand candles are lit all over the dining room.

The sweetest melody greets me, along with an aroma of the most deliciously savory meal.

A path of black rose petals on the floor leads me to the opposite end of the grand room, where Jordan sits at a glistening piano, working furiously over the keys.

The tune is one I remember from the first time we danced.

Memories flood me. I stop and breathe it in.

It was all so new then. An attraction we couldn’t fully understand.

I realize now it was our kindred thirst for freedom.

Then the world fell apart, shattered by our hands. The only thing left to cling to was one another. The hope for what we’d never seen in the world, an understanding of what should be, and a stubborn determination to see it through.

I set down the stack of evidence against Yani on the table and run my fingers along the beading of my gown, trying to remember to breathe.

Servants pass, filling the fluted glasses on the table and layering out lavish platters of fruits and cheeses.

Jordan plays harder, his long fingers dancing over the keys.

I rehearse what I want to say in my head, how firm I will need to be and what will happen if he doesn’t listen.

Passing a gilded mirror on the silk-lined walls, I spot my diadem, which shimmers in the dim light, perfectly matching the sparkly studs at my ears, which are a stunning complement to the plunging neck of my black satin gown. I clench my fists at the girl in the mirror.

Not her mother’s daughter. Not an heir. Not a runaway. Not someone’s puppet.

A writer of her own destiny. A girl who knows her power.

The knot winding in my chest unravels with my breath. I dry my slick hands before touching his shoulder.

The music stops, and the suddenness of the quiet hammers in my chest. He rises to meet me, the green in his eyes bright. His face is clean-shaven, and his tuxedo cuts against his body, flawlessly tailored to him.

“You came.” He reaches for me, running the back of his hand gently on my cheek. His fingers curl around my jaw, then they slip behind my head. His touch lingers, and it makes my insides ache. When he pulls me closer to him, his scent sends shivers all over my body.

“It’s been so long.” I close my eyes, remembering the last time he touched me like this for this long.

He snaps his fingers, then scoops my hand into his with the other around my waist. Music fills the air, and he sweeps me into the first step of a dance.

His lips bow in a sultry smirk, and I melt into him, sliding with him into each step, twisting to the cadence.

The next move makes the room spin as we step and turn, step and turn, step, step and turn.

“You’re a natural.”

I’m smiling. He smiles, too. An unbridled one, showing most of his teeth. Creases linger around his eyes.

“You should smile more often.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.

He spins me out and in, his chest against my back as I wind my body, dancing against him, before the next count.

His breath brushes my neck, and his lips graze my collarbone, sending shivers all over my body.

When we face each other again, we lace hands and spin.

Holding him so close ignites a tenderness in me that wants him.

We turn faster as the music speeds up. He winds me around, more insistent with my hips, pulling and pushing them this way and that.

I dance to his tempo, following the urging of his touch.

Imagining how this dance would feel if this were all that existed between us.

When the music crescendos, he dips me for the finish.

His arm is an anchor at my back. His body hovers over the neckline of my gown.

His gaze traces my body, then his tongue plays on his lips.

When he brings me up, setting me on my feet, I let go of him to shake off the desire to feel him against me.

“Jordan, we need to talk.”

He waves away the servers.

“I found letters between Adola and Yani. They’ve been talking this entire time.” I point to the stack tied with a ribbon I set on the table.

“I don’t understand.”

“I brought it all for you to see. Yani was the ringleader in stealing the diadem, not Ube.”

His mouth parts as he approaches the stack of mail cautiously. He picks up several letters, flipping through each. He stops occasionally to read some of the letters. With each passing moment, his scowl deepens. When his narrowed gaze widens, something dark moves across his expression.

“She has been feeding information to the Dragunhead.”

He drops the stack on the table and glares. He doesn’t speak, and several minutes pass. The servers are turned away. Jordan stews in silence. My heart hammers. When he finally turns to me, the tenderness in his expression has returned.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you about Yani.

It was arrogant to think I could keep her in line.

” He scatters the envelopes on the table before stacking them up and turning his back on the stack.

“That could have been you instead of Dexler. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.

” He rubs my arms, caressing them. “But I was short with you at the ball. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“Thank you for that. And yes, I can. But Yani—”

“Please, let me finish.” He takes my hands. “Despite the chaos, I need a night where fear doesn’t rob us of what we’re truly fighting for: each other.” The sweetness of his stare does something to my heart. I would like all this chaos behind us, as well.

“Do you think we could try that, tonight? A reset. A moment for us.”

The letters on the table taunt me. I’ve been consumed by everything but the one thing I want to be consumed with—my love and freedom. If that makes me selfish, then maybe I deserve a moment of selfishness. A night of it. Before I ruin it all, taking his power away from him.

He folds down to hover his mouth above mine.

“I’ve prepared for so long to be near you like this, for as long as you like, without fearing our magics will clash.

I planned seven courses inspired by the most magnificent beaches around the world.

One day you will see each of them. Each course has a musical selection.

I thought we’d dance for some. But there’s a few I’ll play for you. ”

I am dreaming. I must be. “We will see them, together.”

“Is that a yes? Tonight is ours?”

My chin rises to meet him as if charmed by a song.

My thoughts scramble. And all I can think of is how right the world feels when he is near me.

How badly I want to pretend this is all there is.

We are all there is. And how every time we find ourselves this close, he always pulls away. Tonight, he burns with insistence.

“There’s so much we need to discuss,” he says. “But when it’s just us, everything is very simple. Simple sounds nice for an evening.”

I smile. “It does.”

He closes the sliver of air between our faces and rubs his lips across mine, deliberately slow. Then he presses our foreheads together. And we exhale, which morphs into a laugh.

“How are you doing this?” I ask.

“I’ve been feeding my toushana every night. Sometimes all day. For a very long time.”

His fingers are bruised. I kiss them. Then I hold his hand to my cheek, savoring the warmth of his confident embrace. The choice to love me burns in every second of his touch.

“I told you feeding it would help.”

“I had to be sure there is no chance I can hurt you.” He says something else, but I hardly hear him, lost in his green eyes.

The color of growth, change, hope. I touch his lips, trying to remember precisely what they felt like the last time we kissed.

They’re softer than I remember. He purses them in the gentlest peck against the pads of my fingers.

My mind whirs with questions. But the thrill on my skin from the dance, the feel of our bodies so close, the tight squeeze of his hand around mine, being this near the person I love, steals every word I was going to say.

“If I save all of magic,” he says, “but never live in the moment for myself, I will regret it.” He shakes his head. “Regret is not worth its high price. I want this time with you.”

Yes, and if I can’t have a moment like this, for myself, am I really free?

His mouth touches mine again. His lips spread, opening me up to his kiss. A fire blossoms inside me. The feel of his tongue slipping inside my mouth, exploring, licking, tasting, sends a rush of heat all over my body. And a pang of love in my heart.

“Tell me I’m yours,” he whispers, nipping at my ear.

“You’re mine. All mine. And I’m yours.”

He devours my mouth with a kiss that grows hungrier.

The heat rushing through my body pulses, and every part of my skin tingles.

Somewhere, someone with a tray rushes out the door.

He kisses me again until the dining room and the Chateau and magic and the Order all disappear.

Until our breaths mesh in a harmony sweeter than any song we’ve ever danced to.

His love is intoxicating and endless. He holds me so close to him I don’t know where he ends and I begin.

His touch is gentle yet insistent, stretching each moment of tenderness into a yearning ache, to want more of him, to be closer to him, for this night to never end.

He tends my heart like a garden, carefully ripping weeds from my soul.

Then he buries me in his love until morning comes.

I wake in my bed alone. The spot where Jordan slept is cold.

There is a note and a single rose beside my pillow.

Breakfast. I check the locked metal box with the real diadem Jordan recovered from the lab.

Thankfully, it’s still there. I remove it, and hide it in the bottom of my closet. Then I relock the drawer.

That’s half of the magic in my possession.

Now for the other half.

I throw a dress over my head and get out the door. Jordan is at the breakfast table, looking bright-eyed, with a plate full of all kinds of food. Pancakes, pastries, stacks of bacon.

“Do you always eat so much?” I greet him with a long, slow kiss. “We still need to discuss things, by the way.” My stomach twists, dreading how he is going to take this.

“Ravenous. What can I say? Please eat.” He folds and unfolds a copy of Debs Daily. His plate, I realize, has hardly been touched.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just arrived. Good timing.” He signals for a servant to get me a plate. With it comes a copy of the Daily. The front cover image makes my heart stop. A body tied to a balcony at Hartsboro. I blink, staring closer. But the dark hair and eyes are unmistakable.

“It’s Yani.”

Jordan sips his coffee. “Abby is concerned Dexler may not wake up. Her wounds were intended to be fatal.” He is wearing last night’s clothes under his morning robe.

I try to swallow but can’t.

He did this. Jordan snuck out last night and somehow did this?

He sentenced her to die without telling anyone. Without telling me.

I can’t breathe.

Bile rises in my throat.

“Justice is not for the faint of heart, Quell.” He rises from the table. “The extraction of the toushana and forging of the rings is set for midnight.”

“Jordan, I know what Abby told you about the extraction procedure!”

“Then you understand time is of the essence.”

“No!” I stand, too. “You will not do this. I am removing you as any kind of leader here. I’ve taken the diadem, and no magic will leave your body until I say so.

” Toushana bleeds from my hands. “Erla will work with me directly on it now. We will find another way to preserve the Sphere’s toushana and your life. ”

Confusion knits his brow.

I don’t move, urging my faint magic to swell.

But Jordan doesn’t raise a defensive hand in response. He doesn’t even look angry. More sad than anything else. “I will not fight you.”

“Then you will do what I’ve said.” I ball my fists.

“Quell, preparations are already underway.” He raises his shirt.

His wound has returned, larger than before.

“We ran a trial on me already and got a little of the toushana out. We will do the full procedure tonight. There’s no turning back now.

” He takes my hand and kisses it. “I love you so very much.” He turns to leave.

He will die tonight.

To save magic.

And to save me.