He did nothing but stare, and yet a torrent of longing shot through our bond. His longing. If I kept this up, maybe he’d break again. Maybe he’d pull me into him and explore my mouth all over again.
“If you need an excuse, it’ll make our heartbond stronger,” I murmured.
He inched closer so he was just a breath away from my lips. “What makes you think I need an excuse?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my words like a hum, “just that comment you made about our kiss.”
His gaze dipped to my lips. “Sometimes desire outweighs rational thought.”
Before I could come up with a response, Seville breezed into the room. She’d changed into a slim-fitting forest-green gown with a slit up her thigh, revealing her family crest.
With a suffering look, she sighed. “Please save that shit for behind closed doors. I don’t mind a good show, and gods know we’ll have plenty of opportunities for that this weekend, but you are my brother.”
The vines disappeared as Rorik straightened. “We’ll go downstairs with you.”
Seville raised a brow. “Oh? Afraid what will happen if I leave you two alone?”
“No.” Rorik made for the door. “I just need to keep an eye on both of you, apparently.”
Seville tipped her head toward me, and I smirked. “Well, I wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing.”
“Lovely,” she said as she linked her arm with mine. “Men are weak in the presence of powerful women. I’ll have Zeverin groveling before my pointed heels in no time.”
Rorik cursed as he pushed open the door. “That is a truly horrific image.”
“Anything for my family, Rorik.” She said it so quietly I thought I’d imagined it, but I watched as Rorik flinched. Then his shoulders slackened. He didn’t respond, though. Perhaps he couldn’t. Because in that moment it was abundantly clear to me that Seville would do anything to protect her own—and that included Rorik. And I wondered if he’d ever heard her admit as much, or at least believed her when she claimed to care for him, too.
He tilted his head ever so slightly to glance at his sister. And while Seville had already moved on, heading aimlessly toward the other guests, I could see every warring emotion colliding in Rorik’s expression: relief, despair, frustration, acceptance. It was a tumultuous blend ofWhy did you have to say this now?andWhy couldn’t you have loved me sooner?and my heart ached to hold him.
But of course there wasn’t time for that, and I doubted he would’ve let me anyway. One day, though, I vowed I would hold him the way he deserved. The way he so clearly craved. All I could do was pray he’d accept it instead of push me away.
Twenty-Two
By the time nightfall hit, I was ready to call it quits. True to her word, Seville had us mingling for hours, sweeping me around from one Ever to the next and effortlessly introducing them as if she carried around an almanac for all the important families. In the rare instances she didn’t know whom she was speaking with, she artfully steered the conversation in a way that would force them to share names and family affiliations first. Sometimes she’d use me as a reason, nudging me forward to spark conversation, and, because I wouldn’t be expected to know anyone, they’d offer up details without thinking twice.
“You never know what information might come in handy,” she said under her breath. She grabbed a glass filled to the brim with some vibrant pink concoction and pressed the drink into my free hand, grabbing a second one for herself.
“How do you know these are safe to drink?” I asked.
She tilted her head toward an attendant carrying a tray of what appeared to be the same type of wine from earlier. “Those are...enhanced.”
“Enhanced?” I blinked. “Not poisoned?”
“Poisoned? Oh.” A look of guilt streaked across her face as she blanched, but she recovered with a weak smile and hid the rest of her discomfort with a quick sip of her drink. “No. The only reason Briar was able to pull off that stunt was because the rest of us weren’t watching your back, and that will not be happening here.” She gave a pointed nod to the far end of the room where Rorik leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was neutral, but there was no mistaking the alertness in his piercing gaze.
“Okay,” I said, gingerly sipping my drink. The tang of cranberry and lemon hit the back of my tongue, followed by a sweet aftertaste that had me eagerly enjoying another sip. “So if the wine isn’t poisoned, what do you mean by enhanced?”
“Some things are customary at coupling fetes, and the Douselle Kiss is one of them.” Seville sidestepped a group of boisterous Evers, each with two glasses themselves, and guided us toward the fringe of the room where the air was less perfumed with the cloying scent of the wine. “It’s aged with a rare flower found in the mountain peaks surrounding Stormsend. Let’s just say it lessens your inhibitions and makes everything feel a bit sharper. It’s all consensual, of course. No one is forced to drink it.”
“Have you had any before?”
“Of course.” Mirth filled her eyes as a sly grin stole across her lips. “And I very well might this trip. But not tonight,” she said with a sigh. “Tonight, I want a clear mind.”
We’d reached the end of the room where rows of polished black tables surrounded by chairs filled the space. Platters of food were being dropped off by countless attendants until I was certain the tables would buckle from the added weight of all the dishes. Garlands made of darkened twigs and crimson berries curled and snaked around the platters and place settings, until they eventually flowed over the ends like waterfalls.
“And this? How do we know this is safe?” I nodded to the cornucopia of food that probably could’ve fed the people of Willowfell for a week.
“Another custom, but thankfully our ancestors were even a bit leery of leaving that to honor. There’s an evervow in place,” Seville said, peering at the ebony place cards with names embossed in reflective ruby ink. “All food served by the host to their guests can’t be tampered with, unless, of course, the host wants to suffer the ramifications of said tampering themselves.”
