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“Valemer told me that he offered you the job of Adrien’s blood nanny. Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I wasn’t planning on staying.”
“It’s true, when you come from humble beginnings, a fat sack of gold and the prestige of this position can change your stars. But I won’t lie, Master Adrien has chased away seven nannies since I’ve been here. One broke her wrist when he shoved her to the ground.” He began winding a handkerchief around my fingers. “But maybe you’re from hardier stock than an aristocratic human.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I’d like to think so.”
Mr. Duval smiled his broad grin back at me. “If you took the job, it would be nice to have another commoner around.”
“Does that mean you aren’t of noble birth?”
“I was born in the belly of Old Town and worked my way up from dockhand to first mate.”
“So you’re a sailor?”
“Soon to be captain when I leave His Grace’s service in two months. You see, the perks of being a sanguine partner are exquisite. The money. The connections. And the consorts.”
“Consorts?” I repeated.
“I can hear you, you know!” Adrien shouted from the cottage door.
“Then cover your ears!” Mr. Duval shouted back.
The two of us laughed. He returned his attention to my hand, tucking the end of the handkerchief to secure the bandage. “Sanguine partners aren’t allowed to court anyone during their service because being part of a vampire’s court puts you close to private information. A sanguine partner could be easily manipulated under the guise of romance. So the small council vets and pays men and women to provide for our needs.”
He released my hand and inspected his work.
“Did you know her?” I nodded toward the marble wings above the roses. “The Duke’s wife?”
“Lady Emmaline? No. Not personally.” He followed my gaze, and for once the charm went out of his voice. “I’ll tell you what I do know. In ten months, I have never seen Valemer open that gate. The gardeners tend the roses, freshen the sheets in the cottage, and leave. No guest has ever set foot in here. No courtier, no council member, not even Master Adrien. Officially.” He looked back at me. “Then, here you are.”
I didn’t know what to think about that.
I had slapped the Duke and told him to get over his grief before it killed more people, and then he put me in his wife’s reliquary.
Perhaps it was the safest place. Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps a man stores a stray witch where he has room.
My thoughts turned to the quay and the fireworks bursting in the sky. My arms around him, and his arms around me.
Yves had seen me at my most vulnerable, half-drowned, screaming for my mother, chasing her ghost. I hadn’t been very good at swallowing my own grief. But Yves hadn’t cared. He’d looked right at me, at the hollow shell of a woman I’d become, like I was exactly who he’d been looking for.
I hadn’t known what to do with his attention besides ask it to buy me a drink and fuck it until the headboard broke. The fantasy formed in my head, a night of what-ifs. Instead of Hartley, it was Yves. He ripped my bodice in half, desperate to get to me faster while the tavern ballad played in the background.
His hands, his mouth, his body.
Patient yet greedy. Hungry yet starved. Careful yet reckless.
I allowed the fantasy to play out until all I could think of was him. I wanted to see him again. To know that he was alright.
If Lou or the others had hurt him… I’d curse them.
Not because I cared, but because after saving my life, twice, I owed him that much.
A rush of wind came, blowing the hair around my face and sending ripples across the pond. Suddenly, the Duke of Valemer was standing twelve feet away. My eyes roved over his body, checking to see if there were any injuries, but I found none.
He seemed in perfect health.
The sight of him, here and whole, caused heat to pulse lower in my core. And I had the absurd urge to apologize to a statue for desperately wanting to see her mate undressed.
