He removed his finger from my mouth but kept his other hand in my hair and his face close to mine.
“I’m sorry for calling you names,” I said softly, my cheeks burning with shame under his gaze.
“My dear Sparrow. You didn’t say anything I haven’t called myself.”
He sounded somber but kind, and I exhaled with relief.
“So, you’re not offended?”
He released my hair and smoothed it down for me. The gesture was so gentle, it made my heart ache.
“I wouldn’t be where I am now if I were so easily offended,” he said. “But you have to be careful with the others. Lord Petuh didn’t take your joke well.”
The lord was the one who handed me the wineglass, I remembered. The wine didn’t look or taste like anything harmful I’d had before. Yet it obviously wasn’t harmless.
“What was it? What did he add to my wine?”
“Nothing. He gave you wine made from rotten fruit.”
The sticky sweet taste of it had the flavor of overripe apples and possibly peaches or apricots.
“Is it the wine that made me take my clothes off?” I said with a bitter smile, a pathetic attempt to cover up my embracement.
His eyes flicked to my bare chest. The golden paint on one breast had been licked off by the king. On the other, the delicate swirls were now smudged and smeared, too. I crossed my arms over both to hide the mess the best I could.
Voron grabbed a folded blanket from the chair by the fireplace, opened it, and draped it over my shoulders, covering me up.
“Thank you.” I pressed the blanket to my chest, suddenly acutely aware of my state of undress. All I had on was the corset-belt that covered nothing. And I’d been sitting like that, with my boobs on display, for quite a while now. Voron had seen me naked before, but that didn’t make this situation any less awkward.
“The rotten fruit wine creates illusions and makes people who drink it act irrationally,” Voron explained.
“‘Irrationally’ is a nice way to put it. I made a fool of myself.”
“It’s not as bad as you think,” he tried to comfort me. “The royal court finds someone new to laugh at every day. By tomorrow, they’ll forget all about today.”
I fidgeted with the end of the blanket, avoiding his eyes. “I hope you’re right.”
“You know what?” He sounded like he’d made a decision.
Opening his vest, he reached for the top button of his black silk shirt underneath.
That got my attention.
My heart skipped a beat as he opened more buttons. His bare chest came into view—smooth pale skin stretched over the well-defined pectoral muscles with a generous sprinkle of short, raven-black hair.
With so much naked flesh constantly on display in Elaros, seeing a sliver of his bare chest shouldn’t be this fascinating. But my mouth felt dry as my heart restarted with a thud. I swallowed hard, watching Voron open his shirt.
Sadly, he stopped after the third button. Reaching around his neck, he took off the necklace he wore under his shirt. It was a string of wrinkly, silver beads with a dark, smooth rock for a pendant.
“This is warded. I’ve worn it since I was a child.” He placed the necklace around my neck. “The silver rowan berries and the hag’s stone will protect you from pretty much every food or known curse out there, including the rotten fruit wine. No one will be able to take it off you without your permission. But some may be able to break it. Take care of it.”
The beads carried the warmth of his body when they touched my skin. He was so close, his breath moved the hair on my temple. His fresh scent invaded my senses. His fingers skimmed my skin as he closed the necklace on the back of my neck. Warm shivers scattered down my arms from his touch.
I leaned forward until my forehead touched his shoulder.
“Tonight’s dinner would be the one memory I’d actuallywantyou to take away, Voron.”
He briefly rested his chin on the crown of my head. “No more taking memories, little bird. From now on, you’ll need every one of them to build your experience and to learn from it.”