There may not be electricity but thankfully there’s running water. I turn on the bathtub.
Even as I pretend not to hear Kaison moving around before a door closes, I reassure myself.
Thank the fae lords I’m immune to his charms. Otherwise, I might be in some serious trouble.
Chapter 18
The Great Panty Smuggler
CINDER
Kaison looks like he’s having a stroke. Or maybe an aneurism?
When he stepped into my bedchamber in the castle he started to say something, but the words died on his lips once he saw me.
His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise and something deeper, more primal, dancing in their depths. I watch as his gaze travels the length of my body, from the delicate pearls at my throat to the sinful sweep of my skirt. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, and I can't help the thrill of satisfaction that shoots through me at his reaction.
The royal stylists did in fact take over for Dame Kiki and even I have to admit they did me up right.
Before, I’d been dressed to be innocuous, to fit in. Now I’m dressed to stand out, a true royal.
I’m adorned in a cascade of rich plum that darkens to black as it tumbles to the floor. The bodice fits tightly to my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
The off-the-shoulder cut leaves my collarbones bare and exposed, feeling oddly vulnerable and yet defiant. Each billowing sleeve starts as a circle around my bicep, cinching at my wrists.
The skirt is a masterpiece. With each movement I make it flares and flows, layers of shadow and sin, echoing the whisper of leaves against ancient tombstones. It's drama and elegance. Beautiful, yes, but with an edge that saysapproach with caution.
The finishing touch is a choker of pearls at my throat, a stark contrast to the dark dress. It looks almost like a string of tiny moons captured and strung just for me. But I know it's a collar—a sign of bondage reminding me that tonight I am bound to a role I must play.
My mood turned absolutely brittle when they insisted on covering up my tattoos with makeup. Everyone knows who I am andwhatI am now. I tried to argue I shouldn’t have to blot out my ink, but the bloodsuckers insisted I needed to look like a princess befitting Midnight.
I enjoyed the way the stylists backed away as I plucked out my bits of silver, as if concerned I’d chuck the harmful jewelry at their heads. I always get a little irritable when I have to take out all my visible piercings. Though to be fair, Kaison has to do the same.
I still need to ask him how he got them. Midnight isn’t big on tattoos or piercings but he seems to easily straddle both realms. Maybe he got them in the Common World?
It’s all worth it when for once, the silver-tongued prince seems at a loss for words.
He takes a step toward me, drawn by an invisible force. His hand rises, fingers twitching as if he wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin of my shoulder, but he lets it drop back to his side.
“Cinder, you look. . .” He trails off, shaking his head clear.
“Like a princess?” I offer.
“Like the most powerful, dangerously seductive creature I’ve ever beheld.”
Heat creeps up my neck at the raw honesty in his voice and the way he says my name—so intimate. It's not the practiced flattery of a playboy prince but something more genuine, more vulnerable. For a moment I see past the mask he wears, catching a glimpse of the man beneath.
But as quickly as it appears the moment is gone. Kaison blinks, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. “You clean up nicely, for a goth girl.”
I scoff, the spell broken. “And you're still an ass for a prince.”
Though he also fits his station in matching burgundy and black colors, the leather gloves back on his hands and his collar pulled up to obscure his beautiful tattoos.
He clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, my lady.”
Despite myself a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. This is the dance we do, the push and pull of our strange, unlikely partnership.
It's a dangerous thing, this attraction simmering between us. I know I can't afford to let it distract me, to let him get too close.
