Page 57 of The Cerise

“Oh, goody,” I mumble.

Riot chuckles under his breath and pulls two dresses free, a dark blue full corseted, drop waist gown and a cream-colored frock that looks just as uncomfortable. He then turns back to my closet and goes through my things again. If I cared for the effects I might be frustrated, or even embarrassed, that he’s touching my intimates but everything I care about is stored in the go-bag hidden under my bed. Ready for when it’s time to run.

I take a slice of toast and smear some strawberry jam on it. It’s sweet and heavenly in my mouth. Almost good enough for me to forget that Riot barged in before morning light. “Why are you here? Don’t you have things to do otherthan babysit me?”

“Yes, but you never moved the wardrobe last night and I didn’t want to leave you vulnerable.”

I look at the solid oak armoire still in its place adjacent to the door from when I left the room yesterday. It didn’t even dawn on me that I walked over and let Riot in without having to push the beast aside.Stars above, how out of it was I last night?“I guess I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.” He looks at me pointedly. “Which is why I never left.”

I take in Riot’s clothes again, noticing his pants are crinkly and water-stained from snow at the ankles, and his shirt is more than just untucked, it’s wrinkled. “Won’t Bash be angry? You were supposed to meet him last night.”

Riot closes my wardrobe doors and crosses the room. He takes a piece of cantaloupe between his fingers and says, “I think he’d be even more unhappy had I left,” before popping it into his mouth.

I swallow hard, vaguely remembering that I picked crabapple flowers last night. I make a mental note to get some hot water and honey to steep that detoxing tea because I think I just saw Riot's gaze drop to my lips and I think my magic jumped at a thought I refuse to entertain.

“There you go, acting like you care again,” I say, my voice a scratchy whisper.

Riot’s hand comes to my cheek and he brushes his thumb across my chin. He retracts his fingers and licks the spot of jelly he cleaned from my face. His tongue swipes against the pad of his thumb and, out of nowhere, I’m burning up.

I twist my hair into a bun and tie it with an elastic, hoping that getting it off my neck will cool me off. It helps, but not enough.

“Eat. Sasha will be here in fifteen minutes to help you get ready. Also, you might want this.” Riot lifts his shirt and pulls a small silver knife with a red jewel on its hilt from a holster.

My gaze strays to the curvature of his stomach, counting each hardened muscle and noticing every dip-line. I bite my lip when his shirt hides his body again as I try to regain control of my magic. It aches to be satiated, to touch him, but then quiets when it recognizes the dagger he offers.

“You found it!” I take the blade and hug it to my chest. Tears well in my eyes, but I’m not ashamed of them this time. My dagger is the only thing I have of my father, a man I barely remember because I was only five when he died. “Thank you!”

“Careful,” he says through a chuckle. “I had it sharpened.”

I delicately set the dagger on my pillow, not wanting to lose sight of it. First Mom’s book, now Dad’s dagger. I never thought I’d be happy to be under the Crown’s roof but if I had run, like I wanted, they’d be lost forever.

A strange urge to hug Riot washes over me but I resist the feeling. Instead, I stand beside my bed, arms at my side, staring at him as he does the same to me. The tension building between us is weird. Not uncomfortable, just oddly charged.

“The dresses I added to your wardrobe all have a special pocket sewn in. You can strap the dagger to your thigh and easily access it,” Riot says, breaking the silence. He lifts one of the gowns and sticks his hand in the hidden space. From where I stand, the material looks flawless, but he finds the opening and flips the dress inside out to show me how the hole goes all the way through.

It’s a clever concept, one I could have used two nights ago. “I don’t have a holster anymore. Mine’s gone missing.”

He shrugs, a playful grin lifting his lips. “I may have slipped a new one in your underwear drawer, just in case yours wasn’t up to par. Didn’t think prying eyes would question some leather and buckles in were there.”

A flash of heat colors my cheeks and I turn toward my tray so he doesn’t see it. The underwear is the only thing I might take from thepalace when I leave. They’re sexy, crafted from black lace, and beautiful. They make me feel beautiful and now that Riot has had his hands on them… I don’t know why, but the thought turns me on.

“I have some things to attend to this morning,” Riot says and I feel a sense of relief. Until I detox these feelings away, being around him could be bad. My magic likes him, which is weird, and my resolve cracks every time he surprises me with kindness. But then he adds, “You’ll be escorted downstairs by Greg again.”

I wrinkle my nose, that relief pummeling into a puddle of dread. “The stuffy man with the mustache?”

“That’s him,” Riot says and I groan.

I didn’t expect to walk the halls guard-free, though it would be nice, but if I’m forced to be babysat, I’d at least like to have some confidence in my guard. I don’t trust Greg, which doesn’t put him on my kill-list, but it doesn’t make me like him either.

“Don’t hate on the guy too hard. He’s a friend. He may be stiff, but he’s got your back.”

“If you say so.” There’s a tinyclinksound when I stab my eggs with my fork. They don’t deserve my frustration. They’re pillowy soft, and tasty, and have done nothing to deserve my assault before being eaten, but sometimes life isn’t fair. And they’re just eggs.

Riot turns his back to me but hesitates by the door. He holds the wood in his palm, his arm taut to close it as he walks out. I take two more bites, watching him, waiting for him to come back or say something. To do anything really, besides stand frozen at the edge of the hallway.

“Anything else?” I ask, a nervous edge lacing my tone. He’s radiating confusion and frustration but I don’t know why. I didn’t sense those feelings when he walked in.

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