Page 28 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

brEYLA

T he next two days pass in a similar manner—uncomfortable family breakfasts, bickering, endless library research, more awkward family meals, then bed.

After lunch on the second day, Queen Josephina requested I join her for tea and needlepoint.

I quite literally ran in the other direction.

By the third day, I’m itching to get out of the castle. I’m bored. I’ve read the entire Mordet family history twice over, and will do anything to avoid more “female bonding time” with Queen Josephina.

When Ayden offers to walk me to the library after breakfast, I fake a headache and tell him I’d rather rest.

He gives me a highly suspicious look but leaves for training with Darian.

I count to one hundred after his footsteps fade, just to be sure. Then, exhaling softly, I crack my door open and peek down the hall. Seeing it empty, I slip out, pulling the door shut behind me without letting it latch.

Quickly, I cross to Ayden’s room. I tug at the handle but find it’s locked.

Smirking, I pull shadows to my hand, forming a shadow key as I had so many times before.

“Silly male should have learned from the last time I broke into his room,” I whisper.

I let the shadows seep into the lock, filling every crevice before hardening them into a solid form. A simple twist and the lock clicks open.

Smiling triumphantly, I push open the door and slip into his chambers.

His woodsy citrus scent fills the space.

I take in his quarters for a moment, admiring the display of opulence. Unlike the rest of the castle’s gleaming marble and gold, his room is dark—dark wood floors, black velvet furnishings, rich black carpets. Gold accents glint on the bed’s curtain ties and along the furniture's edges.

It’s excessive and decadent, but it suits him perfectly.

Then I spot it. My trunk is tucked beside the bed. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of getting out of dresses. “Oh, sweet pants.”

I drop to my knees to open the chest just as the door slams shut behind me, the lock clicking into place.

“Well, fuck,” I sigh defeatedly.

“If you wanted in my room, love,” Ayden drawls, chuckling as he leans casually against the wall. “All you had to do was ask.”

I scowl. “I want out of this dress, Ayden.”

His amber eyes darken immediately, a sinful glint flashing there.

“Careful, love,” he purrs. “That’s beginning to sound like consent.”

I roll my eyes. “What will it take for you to return my clothing?”

Ayden crosses the room, stopping inches from me. He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, tipping my face up to meet his. Calloused fingers lightly brush my bottom lip as he says, “Kiss me.”

One kiss.

I could survive one kiss to get my belongings back.

I lean into him, our lips nearly brushing, his breath dusting across my mouth. At the last second, I turn my head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

He chuckles low in his throat. “Nice try, but not happening.”

“You didn’t specify where.”

“Yet, I’m the one making the rules, and I say it wasn’t good enough.”

“You’re an ass,” I grumble, pushing away from him.

“If you would just give me a fighting chance, you would see I am so much more.”

“I don’t give chances to people who don’t give me choices.”

“We aren’t afforded those choices, Breyla.” His face tightens slightly. “We’re royalty. With the crown comes obligations. We all make sacrifices.”

“What sacrifices have you made, Ayden?” My tone is venomous, eyes hardening into a glare. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’ve sacrificed plenty, but you get a wife and throne out of the deal.”

“I’ve sacrificed more than you know,” he whispers, something pained flickering through his eyes.

Feeling uncomfortable, I change topics. “Give me another deal.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want a real chance.”

“I don’t know how!” I snap, frustration boiling over. “Letting people in isn’t easy for me.”

“You let Aurelius in,” he counters.

“I didn’t let Aurelius do anything,” I retort. “He shoved his way in and took what he wanted. And look where that got me. Ayden, I’ve only ever cared for two males like that, and they both betrayed me in the end.”

He studies me, quiet for a moment. “Yet you still care for him.”

“ I-I don’t know what I feel for him,” the lie rolls smoothly off my tongue.

Truthfully, I felt a lot of things for him—lust, betrayal, anger, confusion, and longing. I just wasn’t sure which feeling was winning.

Ayden steps closer, his fingers once again finding my jaw.

“We would be so good together, Princess. I love how your mind works. I believe you’ll make a formidable partner, and an even greater queen. You weren’t just chosen to broker peace. You were chosen because you are worthy of standing beside me.”

He lifts my chin, holding my gaze with devastating intensity. “I asked about you. I studied you in battle and watched you lead. I chose you for your passion, your bravery, your brilliance.”

He leans closer, his breath brushing my skin. “And every night,” he murmurs, his voice dark and silky, “I would worship you. I would make pleasure a religion—and you, my goddess.”

The breath catches in my lungs. Warmth fills my chest when I realize how Ayden truly sees me.

Not just a pawn or peace offering. But as something desired and worthy.

“You certainly make a strong argument,” I finally manage to say.

“And I’ll keep making it until you give us a chance.”

“I can’t make you any promises, Ayden.”

“All I ask is that you actually try.”

A nod is all I can manage in response.

“Thank you,” Ayden whispers.

I circle back to the thought that snagged in my mind. “You inquired about me?”

“Of course I did. I wanted some idea of who I was marrying.”

My brow furrows. “But who did you ask?”

“Aurelius,” he says, like it should have been obvious.

It should be, though. Aurelius was the royal emissary and had spent more time here than in any other kingdom.

“And he gave you a positive assessment of me?”

“Glowing, actually.” Ayden rubs the back of his neck, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. “He sounded rather fond of you, even if he was reluctant to speak about you at first.”

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head, trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t fit.. “Aurelius and I, until very recently, couldn’t stand one another. We’ve never gotten along.”

“For someone so intelligent,” Ayden teases, “you’re very oblivious.”

I punch him in the shoulder, snorting. “I am not.”

“But you are,” he insists, smiling. “As much as it pains me to admit this to my fiancée, that male isn’t just obsessed with you, Breyla. He’s in love with you. I thought perhaps it was a lingering loyalty to your father at first... but after arriving in Rimor, it became painfully obvious”

Ayden runs his hand through his dark curls, mussing them into a charming, disheveled mess that, annoyingly, makes him look even more attractive.

“Then why would he treat me the way he did?” I ask, frustration creeping into my voice. “We’ve hated one another for years , Ayden.”

“You were off-limits to him,” Ayden says simply. “My guess? It was easier for him to keep you at arm’s distance, to fight you, than to risk feeling more than he was allowed to. There is nothing more painful than having the object of your desire within reach, yet being unable to touch it.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Not me,” he says with a shrug, pulling me closer, pressing his nose along the column of my neck, and inhaling deeply. “Someone I know.”

“Get back or I’ll punch you again,” I warn, trying to shove him off.

“I do like it when you get violent.” He chuckles, stepping back half a pace.. “But I have a better idea for how you can burn that violent energy.”

“I’m not fucking you, Ayden,” I deadpan.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, love. I wasn’t even going there.” He winks. “I meant training.”

My face lights up, a grin stretching wide across my lips.

“That sounds like significantly more fun. Do I get pants?”

“Ah, no,” he says, far too pleased with himself. “You’ll have to train in that.”

I glance down at the lavender dress that hugs every curve. This one doesn’t lift my breasts as much as the others did, but the skirt is tight and leaves little room for movement. There is no way I can train in this.

Leaning down, I pull the hem up my leg to reveal the dagger sheathed against my thigh. Ayden’s heated gaze tracks the movement, his eyes lingering far too long.

“Eyes are up here, Prince,” I remind him sharply.

“So they are,” he says, but makes no effort to move his gaze upward.

Rolling my eyes, I unsheathe the dagger. Using the tip, I hook his chin and tilt his face up to meet mine.

“Up here, asshole,” I say pointedly.

He only shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “Not sorry.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, turning back to the task at hand.

I slide the dagger through the right side of the dress, cutting a slit all the way to the floor. The fabric tears easily, freeing my leg for movement.

I repeat the process on the left side, creating a crude but functional fighting skirt.

“If you didn’t want me staring at your legs,” Ayden says, voice roughened, “you probably shouldn’t have exposed them to me so completely.”

“That sounds like a you problem, Prince.”

Fifteen minutes later, we stand outside the training grounds, the sounds of swords clashing and soldiers’ grunts filling the air.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darian huffs when he sees me step up beside the prince.

Rowina watches from the other side of the training grounds, a curious look on her face as she sees me approach the ring.

“No jokes here, brother,” Ayden says smoothly.

His navy eyes narrow in irritation. “I’m not training her, Ayden.”

“Hey, asshole,” I snap, crossing my arms. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am also a General. I don’t need you to train me. I just need someone to spar with.”

“Not happening,” Darian bites out.

“And if your Prince demands it?” Ayden asks.