Page 78 of A Dagger in the Ivy

I shake my head, loosening the strands and allowing the towel to inch down a bit.

My movements are slow, as if I’m savoring every second. I tilt my head, cupping my breasts as I arch my back. When my thumbs graze my nipples, something stirs inside me. I gasp as the feeling overwhelms me.

I’m picturing Dante’s hands instead of mine.

The heat of his palms instead of mine.

Wait.

Fuck.

Is he doing this?

I try to decipher if his magic is influencing me or if I’ve worked myself into a frenzy.

“What’s the matter, Highness? Afraid you’ll lose control?”

My body suddenly remembers the feel of his weight on me in the courtyard during sword practice. My anger becomes muddled, outweighed by a need burning inside me. I can feel the weight of Dante’sgaze, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

I think I hear a whisper, thick with desire. I might have imagined it, but in this moment, it fuels my hunger. I let out a soft moan as my hands roam over my bare skin. I close my eyes, imagining his touch. I can feel his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

I slip my hand into my towel, my fingers finding their way to my wetness. In the reflection, my naked form beneath the towel is just out of view. But I know it’s enough to keep Dante’s interest. I touch myself, my fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. I can feel my body responding, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. My fingers. His.

Wait.

I can’t do this. Not in front of him. This is not what I intended. I meant to tease him, to get him riled up and then leave him high and dry.

I muster my resolve and pull my hand out from the towel, even though my body squirms in protest. I know I need to bring my show to a close.

I run my hands down my body and step to the side. A few more steps and I’ll be out of his line of sight. My fingers grasp the towel where it’s tucked over my cleavage, and as I take the final step that will hide me from Dante’s watchful eyes, I slip the towel free, holding it up where he can see before I let it drop to the floor.

CHapter

Twenty-Eight

“In the wake of the dragons’ demise,” Ezra says, his voice echoing through the classroom, steady and deliberate as he paces before us, “the leaders of our lands sought to assert their dominance, ushering in an era of bloodshed and strife: the Age of Blood.”

I shiver at the name. Even as a soldier, considering an entire era of bloodshed gives me an uneasy feeling.

“It was a time of relentless conflict, a struggle for dominance between the nations of the realms, with Mersos and Dulcamar at the strongest of odds. Dulcamar, driven by greed and ambition, sought to seize the fertile lands of Mersos, attacking repeatedly in an attempt to control Terre Ferique’s resources and to expand their own borders. The resulting wars left deep scars on both nations, scars that have yet to heal fully.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.

I listen intently, my mind absorbing the implications of this history. As a soldier, the political aspects of history are more clear in my mind, but I have to admit that I never committed the details to memory. Besides, I think Ezra might have access to more detailed information than the magister in Delasurvia.

Hearing Ezra recount it, there’s no wonder that the people ofMersos, raised on tales of Dulcamar’s aggression, are uneasy about Delasurvia’s openness to take in refugees. The fear of invasion, of losing what has been fiercely protected for generations, lingers just below the surface.

Nadya drops her chin into her palm, concentrating on Ezra’s lesson. “This was before the Shadow Tsar, though, right? What was Dulcamar’s ruler called then?”

“He was known as Tsar Gunnold Pisarus, who often claimed to be the rightful ruler of Terre Ferique. He said he would stop at nothing to conquer the world.”

“But he was usurped by an unknown enemy,” I put in.

Ezra raises his hand. “Yes, but we haven’t come to that part of history yet. Let us first finish the depths of battles within the Age of Blood.”

I shift in my seat, eager to absorb the history but impatient about going through the details.

“Mersos’s unbreakable treaty with Hedera is a result of the Copperhammer kingdom’s ability to stand between the two nations, not just geographically, but through the king’s army in coalition with Delasurvia’s regiment.”

Ezra’s sharp gaze lands on me. “Young King Axel Westergaard, your father, who had only recently taken seat on the throne after the death of your grandfather, stood as a bulwark against these threats. His superior regiment, known for their unmatched discipline and strategy, managed to repel Dulcamar’s forces time and again. Under his leadership, Delasurvia not only defended its lands but also maintained its sovereignty in the face of other potential aggressors, distinguishing itself during this tumultuous time.” His voice is tinged with admiration. “The Royal Regiment, under the banner of your ancestors, proved to be formidable warriors, securing victory in many battles.”

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