Page 109 of Sanctifier

Taryel’s arm went around her, and she vaguely sensed that he was steering her away from the dancers, away from the crowd, closer to the music. She focused on the sound of Simon's lute, sweet notes undercut by violin and harpsichord. Simon was alive. He was safe.

“Ru,” said Taryel again, turning her to face him. “Don’t give up. There’s time.”

“Time for what?” she said, keenly aware of the guards stationed nearby, lining the perimeters of the room, watching silently. “What can we do?”

“There’s a reason we found each other,” Taryel murmured. “Festra didn’t give you his heart for nothing.”

“That’s assuming my theory is correct,” Ru said, her attention flitting about the ballroom as if she were a hunted creature. “So what, we say,dear Festra, please tell us how to absolve you? For all we know, he wants another Destruction.”

“Don’t think like that,” said Taryel, but his tone said it all — he felt the same, but wouldn’t admit it.

And then, like the first warm breeze of spring, the musicians began to play a new song. The lute’s voice was strongest and led the way, a sweet dance that took Ru’s broken sinews and sought to mend them. It was her favorite song, a melody that Simon had played for her when they were young, in dappled sunlight in some Mirithan garden.

It was a balm for Ru’s soul, a light in the darkness of her despair. She turned her face to the music.There is still beauty, she thought.There is life and light and music beyond the palace. We’re not lost yet.

Inda and Nell appeared like specters, emerging from the dancing bodies and descending on the musicians.

“Not that song,” came Inda’s voice. “Play another.”

But the musicians only played louder, and Simon’s gaze was a fire of defiance. So Inda had no choice, it seemed, but to wrench the lute from Simon’s hands, its strings twanging a cacophony.

The hope that had blossomed in Ru withered, scattering to nothing like seeds in the wind.

“The music is over,” Inda said, and she and Nell took their leave, Simon’s lute still held in Inda’s iron grip.

Simon remained, his expression obstinate, until his gaze met Ru’s.I’m fine, his eyes seemed to say,don’t worry about me.But Ru knew better. Simon would die at the Solstice, or — more likely — his soul would be stolen from him, just like the rest of them.

Ru caught sight of Lady Bellenet across the room, watching with a grim smile. As if she enjoyed watching Simon’s failure, as if she relished Ru’s crushed spirits. Ru wondered vaguely if Lady Bellenet had planned it; if she let Simon remain himself just totorment Ru, to watch her grasp at hope and then rip it away at the last moment.

The dancers in the room seemed unperturbed by the sudden silence, their movements continuing as if they were wind-up dolls.

Ru and Taryelreturned to her rooms after the ball. Ru was reading to fall apart, and she needed him to hold her together.

As if understanding what she needed, Taryel caught her in his arms, pulling her to him. His hand moved down her back, settling in the divot at the base of her spine. “Exist in the moment with me,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Let me distract you. Let me soothe you if I can.”

A spark of desire flared in Ru, so easily lit by Taryel’s voice, his fingers, his smell. She leaned into him, trying to forget who she was, just for a moment. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed and setting her gently down. She watched as he undressed, her pulse quickening, her fingers pulling at the laces of her gown, loosening and undoing.

There was no hurry in their movements. It was a shared intimacy, a moment of sweetness in the quiet before a storm.

When Taryel pulled off his shirt, breath caught in Ru’s throat. His form, so pale and lithe, the dark curls of his hair climbing up from his trousers, scattering across his firm chest, stoked the flame in her. She gathered her skirts up to her thighs, hooking her thumbs under her stockings and sliding them off, and he groaned deep in his throat.

Nakedness with Taryel was dreamlike. Ru had experienced desire, pleasure, the build-up and release. But he was different. More. There was a deep understanding between them, as ifthey knew exactly what the other wanted, moment to moment and breath to breath. Ru felt weightless under his caress, losing herself so deeply in him that she forgot everything.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, and he kissed her there, wet and hot. She let herself melt into him as he suckled her neck, tongued nipples, hands warm and precise. His body was an escape, but it was also a salve. That she was still allowed to have this, after everything, was a quiet miracle.

He moved inside her, unyielding, as the tide of pleasure rose in them both.

With a breathless word, he rolled her over, he on his back, her legs pinned to his sides. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes at the sight of him like this: his hair spread around his face, his lips parted, his eyelids heavy. The tips of his fingers dug into her backside as she rolled her hips against his. Her hair fell around her as she leaned down to kiss him, curtaining them in shadow.

“You,” he said, breath hot on her lips. “You are all I want. You are the reason…”

Ru bit his lip to silence him, her climax taking over. With a series of gasping sobs, she overflowed in blinding pleasure. And he was coming too, riding that same wave. She tasted blood where her teeth claimed his mouth.

Only later, curled together on the bed, their once sweat-slick bodies now dry, did Ru speak again. “Don’t say those things unless you mean them.”

She couldn’t see Taryel’s face from where she was nestled on his shoulder, but she felt his frown, the tensing of his body. “What things?”

“Beautiful, romantic things.”

---