Page 97 of A Game of Veils

Aurelia nods and sets off again, staying a good twenty paces ahead of me. I slow down now that I’m sure we’ll end up at the same place so she can pull farther away.

We pass a couple of servants, but there’s no reason for them to think the two of us are together. I lose sight of Aurelia completely for a minute, but when I duck past the library door, she’s waiting by one of the tables in the broad central aisle.

A quick glance shows no one else in the room at the moment, but I’d rather not take the chance of someone stumbling on our conversation. I usher her over to the repair room where my foster brothers and I have many of our private discussions.

At the tap of the closing door, I flick on the magical lantern. Aurelia takes in the worktable and the shelves of supplies with a curious look before turning to face me.

Her wild, sweet scent, like flowers blooming in a winter forest, drifts through the faint tang of binding glue. All at once, I find it difficult to do anything but gaze at her in the wavering light, taking in the soft planes of her face and the luster of her hair.

Her voice, hushed but urgent, breaks me from my reverie. “What’s wrong? Why did I need to leave?”

Of course she’s worried. My fingers flex, searching for the right gestures to convey my answer.

You weren’t happy with Marclinus. Here he can’t touch you.

Her eyes widen, some of the color draining from her tan face. “Was it that obvious I wasn’t enjoying myself? If he could tell?—”

I cut her off with a hasty shake of my head and a hitch of my pulse that I’ve panicked her even more. My hands whip through a simple message. I know you.

“Are you sure?”

I nod emphatically and touch her arm in an attempt at reassurance, but she raises her hand to her face. “Maybe I should go back. He’s already on edge with me since this morning.” She hesitates. “But if it’s obvious I wasn’t simply turning in for the night, he’ll wonder why I left to begin with. Curse it all.”

I step closer so I can rest my hand on her shoulder, wishing the act didn’t feel so inadequate.

Aurelia drags in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I just—gods, I hate this whole spectacle he and his father have created. They’ve made marriage into a total perversion where nothing matters but pandering to his ego.”

I don’t know how to answer her frustration in any way other than my best attempt at a reassuring squeeze.

She lifts her head to meet my gaze, her chin steady. “It’s all right. I knew whoever I married, it’d be a political match. The point is what we offer each other. It’s only… I assumed there’d at least be a chance that some kind of love could grow out of it. I think Marclinus would laugh if I mentioned that hope to him. Maybe even slit my throat for suggesting getting groped and paraded at his side isn’t enough.”

It's not all right. She’s strong and determined and unyielding, but anguish rings through her voice and shines in her eyes. More pain and anger than she’s ever let me see before.

It feels like a gift. I have no idea how to repay it with anything that’d be remotely comforting.

If I could give her the hope she’s talking about, I would. There’s so much I’d want to say that I can’t.

I’m just as trapped as she is.

My free hand sketches through the air with the best I can offer. Nothing wrong with you. It’s all him. You are wonderful.

She understands well enough that a choked sort of laugh tumbles out of her. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt. Her deep blue eyes meet mine with something that might be an invitation or a plea or maybe a mixture of both.

Great God help me, I can’t do anything but answer it.

My mouth crashes into hers as if it couldn’t belong anywhere else. Aurelia kisses me back hard.

Just like that, everything is her. Her warmth against my front, her breath tart with a trace of wine, her encouraging whimper working its way up her throat.

There’s something fiercer about this collision than the ones before. Her fingernails graze my scalp; her teeth nick my lip.

I’m lost in the need to get closer, to take in more of her, as if I can meld myself to her so well I’ll shield her from all the horrors of the world beyond this room.

My hands move of their own accord, sliding down to her thighs, lifting her onto the edge of the bare worktable. Her legs splay in my wake, the skirt of her dress riding up to her knees.

When I glide my fingers up her smooth calf, careful of the lingering scar from this morning’s wounds, Aurelia lets out a soft little growl and yanks my mouth back to hers. Her arm slings around my shoulders as if to lock me there with her.

There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I ease closer, my dick throbbing behind my trousers as I push against her bunched skirt.

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