Page 14 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

Four

I left the castle through an unused servant's stair that led to the cathedral.

It required a small amount of climbing across the rooftop to reach the forgotten little staircase, but once I was in the Presarion's great cathedral, it was easy to blend in as one of the faithful exiting the holy temple.

I met Petta on Merchant's Square. She lived in the wealthy residential district of Albiyn, so she had no need to sneak out. Her parents cared little about where she went during the night as long as she was home for official court functions.

I hopped up into the carriage to find Rhychulson seated across from us. I greeted him with a smile, and he responded with one of his own. The lascivious wink he added told me Petta had filled him in on all the details.

I looked at her accusingly. "You have a very big mouth."

"Oh, like either of you would be able to keep the fact that you're going to have a tryst with the fair folk a secret from me?" Rhychulson said with a smirk.

"It is not a tryst!" I insisted.

"It had better be a tryst," Petta said. "I have seen those stodgy suitors of yours. You need to get in there and have some fun before it's too late." Like Arkadian, Petta had no qualms about taking her pleasure wherever she chose.

Rhychulson gave her a look that I interpreted as a warning. Her words did hit a little too close to home in regard to my lack of choices.

I gave her a reassuring look, though. "You're right. They are a boring lot. I won't pretend that I haven't thought about finding someone to...well, take my maidenhead so that I don't have to give it to one of those dull-eyed half-wits. But I'm not sure I could ever truly manage..."

I trailed off as Petta suddenly looked shocked that I had said the words aloud. It gave me a sense of annoyance to realize that she didn't think I was actually capable of sleeping with someone, no matter her teasing.

Rhychulson chuckled. "Oh, I think you'll manage. But if you're just looking to give it away for the taking..."

"Oh, shut up, Rhych!" Petta said, tossing her glove at him.

I laughed. I knew Rhychulson was teasing me. We had known each other for far too long for me to believe that his interests in me lay any deeper than friendship.

I caught him looking at me in a rather strange way though, and I began to wonder.

I didn't have long to think about it as we pulled up in front of the Mouse's Ear. A servant opened the carriage door and Petta hopped down. I moved to follow her, but Rhychulson caught my arm. His face was uncharacteristically grave.

"You do know, Aelia..." he said, his voice low and husky as he held my gaze. "If I was not only the son of a knight, I would walk through literal fire and slit the throats of all your suitors from ear to ear—just to get the chance to be that dull-eyed half-wit waiting for you in your marriage bed."

I didn't speak, only looked at him with wide, astonished eyes. He reached out and ran a finger down my cheek, following the line of my jaw.

"And if I was that dull-eyed creature, I could promise you that your marriage would be anything but passionless."

Petta reached into the carriage and pulled me outside.

"You could have worn a gown," she said, trying to look as though she had not just overheard Rhychulson's wild confession. I was still too stunned to respond as he climbed down from the carriage and joined us.

Petta was eyeing my dark trousers and knee length coat over yet another linen tunic. This time I had worn one with dark laces at the neck as though it might make me look a little less like I was wearing men's clothing.

"I can't climb across a rooftop in a gown, Petta." Each time I tried, I regretted it thoroughly. The small amount of climbing I had to do to reach the door to the servant's stairs was made much more difficult by the addition of skirts.

"Well, I could have brought you one, and you could have changed."

"It will be fine, Petta. I am simply meeting him—probably so that he can thank me again for helping him. Maybe he wants to pay me for it."

Petta looked at me and raised a brow as though to say, oh, he wants to pay for it alright!

"I meant, pay me for my assistance," I said, rolling my eyes.

But then I remembered that small smile Io had given me as he left the hallway—the one that I had fallen asleep thinking about—and awakened still thinking about. That smile made me want. That smile, coupled with the fact that he wanted to see me again...

The taproom was full. We had to wend our way through a crowd of unfamiliar faces to reach the bar.

I wasn't concerned about being recognized by anyone who knew me. To most, it would have been unthinkable to imagine me standing in a pleasure house on Antevemer Street.

The common people had never knowingly seen me except from a distance, and the nobles did not use the front rooms. They used the much more exclusive private rooms to ensure no one ever knew they had been to a brothel.

And thanks to the recent trend of women bleaching their hair white, even my hair color didn't stick out as much as it might have.

Petta and Rhychulson headed to the back at my insistence. I was not willing to meet Io under the scrutiny of the man who had just confessed his desire for me. I still wasn't convinced it wasn't an elaborate joke, and he was simply waiting to reveal the punchline.

Anetta was working the bar, something she often did between clients. She brought me a glass of whiskey and gave me a slow, knowing smile.

"Is he here?" I asked. I was afraid to turn and scan the room, terrified that I would meet his eyes, and he would be disappointed in the way I was dressed.

"Not yet. But it's only eleven thirty. You're early."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Now I'll look too eager. Should I...?"

Anetta leaned in across the bar. "You should do nothing but look pretty because he is here." I watched her eyes burn a bit brighter as she tracked him across the room.

And then I felt him behind me. It was a prickle at my neck and a heavy feeling, like someone had replaced the air with warm, slippery water. Tension coiled in my stomach.

"Sera," his deep voice came from just behind me. I had to swallow a sudden knot of anxiety.

I turned in my chair. "Io," I said. The word ended up coming out as half whisper, half plea. The sight of him, so big and so real, sucked the air from me just as before. But then that faint hint of pleasure crossed his features as I said his name, and I relaxed a little.

I started to speak, but he cut in. "Will you walk with me?"

"Yes," I said, surprised. Had I been expecting him to ask me to go straight upstairs and...take my clothes off with his teeth?

The note of disappointment that went through me at him not doing that surprised me.

I led him through the taproom towards the door. The very faint awareness of his hand at the small of my back as we walked across the lobby sent licks of fire up my spine.

When we were outside in the darkened courtyard, I led him in the direction of a few stone benches. We walked slowly, neither of us speaking.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I thought it best if we talk for a bit," he said.

I glanced over at him, narrowing my eyes in curiosity. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets, and he was watching me—looking rather like a cat ready to pounce.

"The truth is that I found myself thinking about you a lot, Sera."

"You did?" I asked as a tug of intense satisfaction rolled through me.

"Far too much," he admitted with a slightly baffled shake of his head.

"What were you thinking about?" I asked, more daring than I would have believed.

He chuckled darkly and stared ahead. The laugh told me the thoughts were not ones he was prepared to put into words. But I stopped and raised a brow, daring him to admit it.

He faced me and reached out to the lapel of my coat, his eyes trained on where he straightened the already straight edge. The light pressure from his fingers where they grazed the fabric seemed to scald me.

"I was thinking about how beautiful you are." His eyes slid up to meet mine, and that wicked, dark gaze sent a jolt of something warm and eager through my chest.

I feigned disappointment even as my heart raced and his words settled in me like warm honey.

"Is that all? I was expecting something more.

..specific." I hardly believed the words coming out of my mouth.

So daring and haughty, like someone who was used to such compliments—as though I wasn't trembling under the weight of those inky, depthless, black eyes.

They flared imperceptibly and almost seemed to come alive as I watched. I thought I glimpsed some movement in the darkness before they narrowed again, assessing. "Ah, you want specifics?" The deep, dulcet tone of that final word sent a shiver down the backs of my arms.

I nodded.

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "Well, I thought about your eyes—like swirling bits of fog trapped behind glass. I thought about your lips and how they would taste—how soft they would be." He prowled closer, and I barely registered that I had backed away a step.

"I thought about all those wild curls—and what they might look like falling down across my chest." The implication of that one was not lost on me as the image flashed in my mind of my hair, falling around my face and shoulders as I rose over him.

I hadn't even realized I was moving until I felt the wall at my back. He had me pressed against the side of the building, his fingers still clutching the edge of my coat.

He rested the other hand on the wall beside my head.

His wide shoulders blocked out the world around me as he hemmed me in to the space between his tall frame and the unyielding stone at my back.

But I was not afraid, even when it felt like a shadow fell across the courtyard and all the rest of the world disappeared.