A deep sigh filled the air. Fingers grazed my cheek. “Sleep, Edira.”
And I did.
Twenty-Three
Weak gray light filtered through a slit in the burgundy velvet curtains, and I stifled a groan at the early-morning sun. I didn’t want to be awake. I’d been dreaming of the fields outside my home in Willowfell, watching as a breeze caressed the meadow and made the vibrant strands dance. It’d been so peaceful. Unlike here. At least the linens were comfortable. I shifted slightly in bed, savoring the silken feel of the sheets against my bare arms. I was still in my blouse and pants from yesterday, and I longed to strip myself bare so I could cocoon in the bed in total comfort. The thing was massive. The thick, tufted upholstery headboard was a sleek black, and the frame was solid wood with lavish carvings of flames.
Rolling over so I could ignore the slant of sunlight threatening to ruin my morning, I went stock-still. Rorik was asleep beside me, a steady rise and fall to his chest. My heartbeat exploded into a full-on canter, and I was suddenly all too awake. He’d remained on top of the sheets and dressed down to loose-fitting pants and a shirt. One arm was haphazardly strewn above his head, and the other was draped over his abdomen. His hand had caught on the hem, revealing a thin sliver of smooth skin just above his waistband.
As tantalizing as the contoured plane of his stomach was, though, I couldn’t help but smile at his face. It was so...relaxed. There wasn’t any tension between his brows, no hardened jaw or stricken tendons straining down his neck. He was utterly at peace. Lips parted, eyes closed, hair tousled. I could’ve stared at him for hours.
Of course he wouldn’t be Rorik without immediately destroying the moment.
“How long are you going to stare at me?” he murmured without opening his eyes.
“I was debating whether or not I’d be able to finally land a hit on that jaw of yours.” I curled one of my hands into a fist for effect, but there wasn’t any strength behind my fingers.
He smirked. “Not a chance.”
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“Clearly you were wrong.” He finally opened his eyes, and I had to remind myself to keep my breath steady. His stare was so warm. Almost affectionate.
“Do you make a habit of sleeping in other people’s beds without their permission?”
He raised a cocky brow. “This is my bed. Technically, you slept here without my permission.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I hardly had a say in the matter.”
“Don’t worry, I forgive you.” He rolled onto his stomach and nuzzled his face into his pillow. “Go back to sleep.”
“Not happening.” I sat upright in bed, nabbing a few pillows to keep me propped up. “What’s the plan for today?”
Just then, the door separating the main sitting area from the bedroom slammed open, and Seville strolled into the room. Ever the picture of perfection, she was already dolled up in her finest glamour, wearing a flowy white blouse tucked into ivy-colored slacks. She took one look at us, rolled her eyes, and then immediately went to the window and threw open the curtains.
“I was actually wondering the same thing,” she said as she—rather dramatically—sat on the foot of the bed and examined her fingernails. “The Waterstones will be here in an hour for breakfast. I’d like to get a strategy in place before they arrive.”
Rorik groaned. “The only strategy I care about is making sure Edira is healthy enough to survive the fete.”
“Edira is fine.” She turned her focus to me, nose wrinkling. “You’re still in yesterday’s clothes. Take the time to wash up now, because I doubt you’ll have time later.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“There’s a luncheon in the gardens in a few hours, but most will return to their rooms in the early afternoon to prepare for tonight’s gala,” Seville said, crossing her legs. “It’s the main event and can be a bit raucous.”
“If you think we’re spending more than five minutes at tonight’s celebration, you’re out of your gods-damned mind,” Rorik said stiffly. Shoving himself into a sitting position, he leveled her with a flinty glare.
“After last night’s unfortunate turn of events, we are all going to be the talk of the fete. We have to be seen so no one thinks we’re up to something. And I will be up to something.” She stood then, brushing her hands along her blouse to free it of invisible dirt. “Wemustparticipate. I’ll whisk Zeverin away and do what needs to be done to secure our prize. Tomorrow, we stay for the customary farewell brunch, and then we slip out with the other guests and Zeverin will be none the wiser.”
“And of course all of this will go accordingly and there will be absolutely no fuckups whatsoever.” Rorik flexed his hands before clenching them tight.
“Zeverin will only get a small taste.” A coy smile graced her lips. “Just enough to lay the groundwork for the irysdrop to work its magic.” She held her hand out to me. I took it, and she ushered me toward the door without a backward glance at her brother. “The bath in our room is spectacular. Let’s get you in it.”
AN HOUR LATER,IWASfreshly bathed with my hair loose around my shoulders and dressed in elegant silk slacks and a sleeveless black blouse. Seville deemed it appropriate for our afternoon activities and swore up and down I’d be “the most intoxicating human to grace the realm” later this evening. She’d already selected my attire for me, but what it was, I didn’t know. It hardly mattered, because Ossanna and Issa had arrived, and with them came the possibility of Death’s location. Assuming they’d be willing to part ways with the information Seville and I so desperately wanted.
“So, Ossanna,” Seville began, reclining in her armchair and crossing one leg over the other. “How goes the courting?”
“There are a few prospects,” Ossanna said through a lengthy exhale. She and Issa were seated together on the sofa, and Ossanna briefly glanced to where I stood near Seville. Rorik, of course, was sulking by the window, scowling for absolutely no reason at the cloud-streaked sky and muttering vulgarities beneath his breath.
