Page 57 of Sanctifier

“Did you?” Taryel said, sounding impressed. “No one will talk to me at all. They either swoon or cry or ask me ridiculous questions about godhood.”

Ru couldn’t help but snort with suppressed laughter. “Poor you,” she said. “Listen, I need to find Gwyn and Arch. I think I know where we might see Lady Bellenet’s…” she widened her eyes, “you know what. Have you seen them?”

“I haven’t,” he said, looking around the ballroom with ease due to his height. Then he turned back to her, his brows drawn together with concern. “Are you all right, Ru?”

She hesitated. This was an honest question, a genuine attempt to connect with her outside of their roles. “No,” she said. The admission hurt. “Of course I’m not.”

“I won’t let them harm you,” Taryel said. “I would do anything for you… you know that. Anything to protect you and, what did I call it? Your little rock.”

Those words lit something in Ru, like a match in the dark. The artifact responded in kind, urging her to him. “Would you really burn the world for me?” she asked, a hazy desire beginning to spread through her body.

“I would burn a thousand worlds,” Taryel murmured, his lips only inches from hers.

Ru imagined it, twin Destroyers, hand in hand at the heart of Mirith. She imagined the darkness spreading outward from them, engulfing the city, the kingdom. She saw their enemies annihilated, their friends too. She saw the Cornelian Tower, her father’s house, the forests, and the rivers, all swallowed up in blackness.

He would do that for her a thousand times over.

Disgust choked her as she returned to herself, her head clearing. Taryel’s hands were in her hair, on her back, holding her close. Her want was a throbbing ache, and she had almost given in.

“Taryel,” she snapped, pulling away. “Stop it. You’re…doing thingsto me.”

He blinked as if waking from a sleep. “Oh,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” He cupped her cheek with a warm hand. “It’s hard not to.”

She allowed this because in this ballroom, with all eyes on them, he was her god and they were playing parts. And because, though she would not admit it to herself, some part of her was weakening toward Taryel. Would it be so bad to let him in? To forgive him?

“I’m going to look for Gwyn and Arch,” Ru said quickly, stepping backwards into the roiling crowd. “We’ll talk later.”

He didn’t follow as she vanished into the crowd, wanting to lose herself in the movement of bodies and music and dancing, wishing fervently that she had more wine. As she stumbled through the press of gowns and frock coats, a blur of strangers in masks, she caught sight of something familiar. Golden hair, gleaming under candlelight.

A footman passed, carrying a tray of gleaming goblets. Ru took one and downed it in a single gulp, relishing the bittersweet burn as it warmed her from the inside.Nowshe could dance.

After that, Ru found herself almost inexorably in Hugon’s orbit. At first, she made to move away, but as he smiled, his cheek dimpling charmingly, she wondered,why not? He would no doubt be good at dancing. He had revealed another part of himself earlier. Could she make him do it again? Could she pull forth more honesty from beneath that angelic facade?

“Delara,” Lord D’Luc said, his voice a gentle croon. “There you are. I thought you might have run away to hide.”

“And miss a chance to dance with you?” Ru said, returning the lord’s smile. She held out her hand.

He hesitated.

“You told me to enjoy myself,” she insisted. Faces blurred into formless colors as the dancers swirled around them. “I enjoy dancing.”

Hugon’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a faint sign of suspicion, and then his smile was wider than ever. “How could I refuse?” he said and took her hand.

He curved his other arm around her, resting his hand on the small of her back. It was a quietly intimate movement that felt utterly natural, and Ru suppressed a shudder. Hugon D’Luc would be the most difficult of all to fool. He saw her as she was, had seen her broken and her spirit flayed. He, more than anyone, knew all that she had to lose and how desperately she would try to hold onto it.

Sweeping her in his arms, he carried her breathlessly into the dance. And as they danced, he seemed to relax, his smile fading, but his eyes shining brightly.

“You dance shockingly well,” said Hugon, “for an academic.”

Ru allowed herself to laugh. “I have an accomplished partner.”

The warmth of a thousand stars seemed to grow in her chest, her vision wine-blurred, her skin hot. She knew her heart was beating fast, too fast, but she ignored it. She was almost enjoying it, the shedding of their mutual antagonism. Hugon could have been a great friend had they met under different circumstances.

Perhaps, she thought as the lord’s arm tightened around her waist, even more than friends. But Lord D’Luc was all sharp edges and deadly beauty. He was like a thorned rose, drawing blood at the slightest touch.

“We should have done this sooner,” she said, her lips brushing golden hair. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

He seemed to stiffen slightly.

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