She wore a gown of such a deep crimson color it looked almost black, the rich velvet gathered into full rosettes shaped into incredibly lifelike roses. She wore rose jewelry, too, a large and particularly compelling pendant that radiated magic like a sun resting in the hollow of her throat, others dangling from her ears and wrists, a rose ring on the finger a woman might normally wear her engagement or wedding ring, though Sebastien knew that couldn’t be the case, unless her status had changed in the last day or so.
As he watched Rose receive her congratulations, he observed how she accepted embraces with the stiff discomfort of someone who only endured being touched, her smiles not quite as genuine as her fellows’. She only unbent when a tall, older gentleman approached her with an extravagant bouquet of red roses, a frightening expense at midwinter. He made a show of sweepingher a bow, then led her onto the dance floor. She beamed up at him, her smiles finally relaxed, as he waltzed her around the floor. Even her dancing slippers, Sebastien noted, sported the rose jewelry.
Their profiles were the same, Rose’s a delicately feminine version of his, their hair the same in shading and the pattern of glossy waves. Sebastien sidled up to a friendly-looking group and asked with studied nonchalance about the striking couple, delighted to be informed that Rose danced with her father, not a paramour.
As the evening passed, Sebastien watched Rose, waiting for his opportunity to make that first impression. She kept to herself and to her father’s company, oblivious to Sebastien’s lingering looks, though a few of the other students made note of his interest and warned him off. Rose didn’t date, they said, not even the innocent flirtations everyone snuck by the non-fraternization regulations. She didn’t even have friends. All work and no play, but she’d be the sorceress to fear someday. She was also, several confided, quite odd in a way no one seemed to be able to put their finger on.
Fascinated and intrigued by the dark-haired beauty, Sebastien enjoyed her glittering reign and planned his seduction.
His opportunity presented itself when her father said farewell, making a show of it, bowing and kissing Rose’s gloved hand. She laughed with delight, glowing at his attention. As Sebastien had predicted to himself, Rose gathered her things and prepared to leave the ball.
When she turned, she gasped in surprise, those perfectly painted crimson lips falling open, her dark eyes—a rich, deep brown, Sebastien suspected, though it wasn’t easy to be sure in the candlelight—widening as she took him in. Clearly, she had indeed not noticed him before this moment, which Sebastien wryly noted as a good tonic against thinking too highly of himself.
“Don’t go yet,” he said before she could say anything, giving her his most charming smile. “Dance with me.”
That set her aback slightly. “I don’t know you.”
“I’ve just arrived.” He gently slipped her bag and the gloves she’d shed from her unresisting fingers. “As Queen of the Solstice Ball, isn’t it your duty to dance with the newest subject?”
Her lovely lips quirked and her lustrous eyes glittered with suppressed laughter. In that moment, Sebastien decided this assignment would be a pleasure. He would enjoy finding ways to make the serious, elusive Rose laugh out loud.
“I’ve never heard that rule,” she said, rather severely, but she also let him draw her onto the dance floor. Sebastien had to bolster himself against that severity, more than a little nervous in the face of her crackling power and extreme confidence.
“Have you ever been Solstice Queen before?” He held her carefully, formally, giving her the space shyer ladies preferred. She hesitated briefly as their hands touched, as if holding her breath, then relaxed.
“No.” She moved smoothly into the dance with him, all fluid grace and practiced steps, tall enough to meet him nearly eye to eye. Kissing her would be a simple matter of easing in, a slight head tilt, and her lips would be against his.Too soon.“I’m not the sort chosen for this kind of thing.”
“Except clearly you are. The queen of the ball.”
“I think I was just the one most likely to have the right gown,” she confided wryly.
“Humility, along with wit, beauty, and magic. What a delightful combination you are.” He might have gone too far there. She didn’t immediately respond with breathless delight or a shy giggle. Instead, she studied him, her dark eyes sharp and a bit suspicious.
“Whoareyou?” she asked, sounding bemused, but not annoyed, as he’d feared.
“No names tonight,” he urged. “For this moment only, it’s just us. A benevolent queen and her devoted subject.”
“You are charming,” she allowed, a smile curving her full lips, “so I suppose I can give you a boon.” No one had warned him what it would be like to be near such a powerful sorceress. Her magic wrapped around them in a cloud, like the kind of dream you wake from without remembering except for the delicious feel of something wonderful and otherworldly.
“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, pulling her ever so slightly closer, pleased when she didn’t tense. “The boon of your presence is enough. It’s a perfect night. Look at how radiant you are.”
She flushed lightly, black lashes fluttering as she cast her gaze down. The maidenly shyness tugged at his jaded courtier’s heart. So much magnificent power in her slim body, a keen mind beneath that cascading hair, her intelligence sharp in those dark eyes—and yet she shivered at his touch. He wanted to pluck this rose, not just to please his father, but for himself, and for her. He could make it good for her and he wanted to see pleasure light up her serious expression.
A future with her formed in his mind, dancing like this at Castle Vega balls, this gorgeous sorceress all his. Perhaps… his wife? And mother of his children. Being married to the court sorceress would provide protection for all three of them. Rotten Rupert would have to swallow his bile then. What a triumph that would be. And Sebastien could elevate Ali and Dianna, give them the lives they deserved.
The music swelled to a crescendo and fell off. Sebastien stepped back and bowed deeply. “Thank you for the dance, my queen.”
“But who—”
He’d already slipped away, congratulating himself for the perfect exit.Rose.Her sweet scent clung to him. Yes, she was as off-putting as her classmates had warned him, but if he knew nothing else, he’d learned how to please powerful women. Itshould be easy to seduce Rose. He could, perhaps, even make her happy.
Sebastien had never expected actual happiness, but now he glimpsed a future beyond simply surviving. A destiny, perhaps. Fate drawing them together. He liked the idea of that.
Rose could be the answer to everything.
5
Thorn hugged the knowledge of Moriah’s visit to herself. A delicious secret that changed everything. Someone knew that Thorn lived. Someone knew her name. Beyond the garden fence, thickly webbed with the black-thorned canes of climbing roses slumbering leafless until spring, there was a world that went on without her—and yet, it also contained one being who knew Thorn.
