I was laughing by the end and completely drunk. But I had a nice, clear voice and the singing—and probably the inordinate amount of wine I'd drunk, made me feel better.
I closed my eyes and thought of him. I had been all along anyways. I couldn't seem to keep the image of him from my mind.
Hewas a masterpiece—achingly beautiful, but with sharp edges, smooth planes, rough bits, and a sly grin of pure, soul-deep wickedness. The description in my wine-addled brain sounded so poignant to me.
I wanted him. The wine, at least, forced me to admit that much. And I had never known want like that before. I knew there was pleasure at the end of wanting—some attainable sensation that made people go to great lengths to get it. I was not unfamiliar with the concept of pleasure...in the singular.
But I had never expected to feel such an animalistic craving for someone or this physical ache with just the thought of him. It coiled some shadowy, desperate feeling low in my belly and made me start thinking about stupid things like...going out into the city to find him.
I got to my feet and began climbing down from the roof to do just that. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I got so dizzy as I leaned over the edge, I very nearly plummeted face-first down to the balcony.
I shook my head in the warm breeze to clear the spinning, and then carefully climbed down to go and find my bed.
I woke to a pounding headache and a sour stomach. After swearing to never drink another drop of wine, I sent word to Markus that I was once again ill. I could not join him and his gaggle of suitors that day.
Markus surprised me by showing up at my door a short time later. He hovered in the antechamber while his guards crowded outside in the hallway. I could count the number of times the man had walked down the hallway to my suite on one hand.
He took one look at the angry, purple bruises on my throat, and nodded. "Ah, I see why you are indisposed. Very well, perhaps you will be able to join us in another—" he studied the bruise, "—five days?"
"Fine," I said, glaring at him.
"I will leave it to you to decide when you are able to rejoin the court, then. I care very little for this spectacle and would send them all home if it would not start a riot."
I narrowed my eyes, unsure what part of the game his new attitude fit into. He had been the one pushing me towards marriage the most, and now he seemed like he didn’t even care.
It didn't make me feel any better. It only made me suspicious that he had already chosen someone for me.
"I will ensure no one attempts to visit your chambers while you are...recovering from your illness." He turned to leave, but then stopped and spoke without looking at me. "For what it's worth, Princess, I am sorry for...what occurred in my office. I hope that we can...put it behind us."
"Fine," I said again, shortly.
He strode out and closed the door softly behind him.
And then excitement whirred through me. I had five days! Five days away from court and responsibility andthosemen. I would not even be expected at a council meeting because if the eldermen saw the bruises, it would likely start a conflict that would rage through the castle for days.
In the end, nothing would change. He was the regent. In all ways that mattered, he was as good as a king.
Set breezed into our chambers on the heels of the lunch servants.
"Aelia!" he said, wrapping his thin arms around me. He glanced at the bruises on my neck, but true to form as my self-appointed royal spymaster, he knew when to ask questions and when not to.
Set's face looked very similar to Tatana's, with his wide, expressive brown eyes and a nose that slightly tilted up at the tip. His delicate features would likely sharpen into something dreadfully handsome when he finally grew up.
"Where have you been?" I asked him as he went to the sideboard and started picking through the little tray of sweets there.
"I've been around," he said cryptically. His eyes seemed to light as he remembered something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment just as Tatana stepped in from the hallway.
She had been out to see two of my ladies in waiting, Merry and Franca, to explain to them that they should not come to my chambers until summoned. I had a catching illness—a rash, she would tell them.
The idea of catching anything to mar their pretty faces would keep the girls far away from my rooms.
As Tatana and Set greeted each other, I unfolded the paper. My heart caught in my throat.
Sera, Forgive me. Dinner? Seven o' clock. In front of our place. Io.
"Where did you get this?" I asked Set, interrupting the story he was telling his sister. I looked slightly apologetic as I realized.
"Anetta," he said, looking proud of himself. It was likely Set had already been down the length of Antevemer street twice that day.
