Page 83 of Elysian

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

An Understanding

Another dawnlight had passed, and I sat atop the iron bed in the second chamber I claimed for my own. Cassiel had remained in the neighboring one where I had left him the eve before. After all the physical exertion, I almost had no strength to drag myself away.

I stared down at the ribbons carefully laid within the velvet case. Made of beautiful silk that was stained a faint ivory and had carefully sewn edges. It was the finest silk I had ever owned.

It was not his first gift to me.

He’d given me the journal with the flower penned inside.

That bloom—the one his first kindness had planted—pushed its way through the weight that had fallen over it.

As frustratingly oafish as the Warlord was, I could not deny the sweet actions. He had given this gift to me with lovely words.

I fell onto my back with a huff.

Maddening Warlord. I pressed my hand to my pounding heart. I had yet to thank him for it. Did he deserve gratitude?

Groaning, I shut my eyes.

Saints take me. Swinging my legs to the side, I scooted off the bed. I left my slippers off and shuffled out of my chamber. The door to his chamber was ajar. I poked my head in, in time to watch Cassiel slap a book shut and shove it under the pillow.

The act stunned me. What did he hide?

“What was that?”

He feigned confusion. “Amara?”

I continued forth until I reached the side of the bed he had hidden the book. He snatched it from under the pillow.

“Why are you hiding your book?” I asked. A smile teased my lips. “Is it an improper one?”

He seemed taken even more off guard. “No.”

I lunged forward, reaching across the bed. He yanked back, but I fell over him, pinning his legs which did not allow him a retreat. I plucked the book from his grip.

How to Court a Lady.

I raised an eyebrow. “Some light reading?” I mused.

“Yes,” he murmured gruffly. I pulled the book away before he took it, backing away with laughter slipping free. “I found it during my run to the village at a shop.”

I flipped to the introduction.

“Gentlemen, the matters of the heart are not to be trifled with,” I said in an exaggerated tone. “Show her with small, meaningful moments how you value her . . .” I trailed off, reading the passage.

Hereforth there are women that must be valued. Many call it sentimental folly, but if you, a man, are desirous of a woman and you are keen on winning her regard, you must humble yourself.

The small acts herein will aid you. But be warned, gentle sir, you must persist.

Only when you show what your words claim will she know and see your love.

The book was snatched from my hand.

“Enough of that.” He cleared his throat.

A pink flush worked up his neck, stretching to encompass his face. I continued to laugh even as I retreated in the face of his ire. Cassiel kept forward until my back hit the wall.