Page 68 of The Devil In Blue
It was nothing like the dresses Lucien made me wear and it was everything I could have dreamed of. Perhaps it wasn’t corsets and bustles that I hated. Perhaps it was the ones Lucien made me wear. My new gown flattered my pale skin and brought out the rich brown shade of my eyes. Cragborough had made my eyes dull and colorless, but now… I didn’t even know who I was looking at.
Coal lined my eyes and a deep red tint painted my lips, making them seem fuller than I knew they were. And Lura had twisted my hair into a beautiful spiral over one shoulder, leaving half of my neck bare. And on my arms were lace fingerless gloves that reached just past my elbows.
“Stunning, love,” Lura said, joining me in the mirror’s reflection.
“Absolutely,” Naeve added. “Now, come. Our king is very punctual.”
“No, he’s not,” Lura giggled.
“Well, we are.”
Naeve took my hand and began leading me to the door. Suddenly, my heart was racing. Was it because I was walking too fast or was it because I was about to dine alone with the king? I didn’t want to admit it was the latter.
When we came to the bottom of the steps into the foyer, I could see the doors to the dining hall ahead and took a deep, shuddering breath. I focused on the doors, seeing the incident on my first night in the palace sweep across my vision. The flipping of the table. The anger. The necklace crushed to dust on the floor.
But maybe none of that mattered anymore. Things were changing.
Naeve pushed the doors into the dining hall open and the delicious smell of dinner wafted out toward me. We entered, our shoes clicking on the marble floors. The table was not the same as it was before. It was smaller and only two chairs sat on either end of it. Candles were stacked between a reef of purple flowers beside a platter loaded with baked pork, fruit, and blackened veggies. The bread I smelled cooking that morning was sliced thickly and slathered in butter with small bowls of jam and cheese spreads sitting out.
It was far too much for two people to eat.
I slowly approached the arrangement and ran my fingers along the silk cloth laid out across the table. When I heard the doors close, I realized the ladies had gone, leaving me alone. The silence was overwhelming. I looked around, my eyes fixed on the place where Rune had put his hands on my throat and ripped my necklace off in one swipe.
And now I was dining with him.
But I had to remember the wound he’d taken for me. That was worth more than a little jeweled moth on a chain. So were the truths that had been revealing themselves to me, despite how unwilling I’d been to hear them.
I didn’t have to endure the silence for too long before the doors flew open again. I spun to see Rune stepping into the room, one hand on each door for a grand entrance. He looked as if he’d been rushing. But when he saw me, he stopped like he’d hit a wall.
His hair was braided in three neat rows along the sides of his scalp, leaving the middle swept back and loose down his back. His tunic, an onyx black with iridescent blue embroidery, hung just above his knees and leather pants and boots covered the rest of him. His wings had been tucked away with whatever magic he possessed, but black feathers decorated the shoulders of his outfit as if to remind me they still existed.
He looked so similar to the day I met him at the masquerade, but there was no longer a mask between us. My heart sputtered in my chest and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping at the harsh beat of it.
Rune regarded me wordlessly for a moment, his gaze soaking me in like he was in a mild trance. I wasn’t used to it. I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress and cleared my throat, feeling much too exposed all of a sudden as he closed the doors behind him and began walking toward me with a slow, careful stride. Of course, I could be dressed in layers of fabric and a winter coat and still feel exposed in front of Rune. He knack for making me feel naked in all ways.
“You look…” he said, pausing for a moment to look me over again. “Absolutely stunning, Briar.”
“Thank you, Rune… my king.” I curtsied awkwardly, forgetting all my formal training from Lucien.
The corner of his lips curled up handsomely at that.
He continued to approach, fixing the cuff of his tunic.
“How is your shoulder?” I asked. “I meant to ask yesterday, but I didn’t see you.”
“Better.” He came around, being sure to walk close enough to me that I could smell the cedar and roses on him. He pulled out the chair at my end of the table and I turned to sit down. “I told you not to go outside in your state,” he said, walking to the other seat across from me. “Now you know why.”
“Do I?”
“The woods here. They know when you’re vulnerable. When you’re weak. And every beast within them smells it and they’re always hungry.”
“What are they exactly?”
“Souls come out of the Labyrinth in different ways, but left in my realm too long, they each turn into something else. Usually something vicious. Rotten souls are capable of growing a rotten form.”
“How many are there, then?”
I recalled what Petris had told me about the king and his issues with balance and controlling his anger. I wanted to hear it from him, though.
