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“I, little bird, am a master of illusions.”
I huff. “I think you meandelusions.”
His laughter fills the room. And my chest cavity with butterflies. Despite my best effort to keep it at bay, a smile appears. Lucien winks at me again, and I duck my head as self-consciousness seeps into my skin.
“It’s very beautiful,” I say quietly. “Whether or not it’s a fabrication of my mind or yours, I appreciate it.”
At the sound of the material rustling, I look up—only to find Lucien towering over me, less than a foot away. He peers down at me with an expression that lacks the playfulness from earlier. However, the glimmer of madness that’s ever-present remains.
“It’s my honor to present this to you, your highness.”
I run my gaze over the garment, taking in the sea-green dress. It has an empire waist, with lace crafted onto the sleeves and along the neckline—it being décolleté is no surprise. A nice green sash ties at the waist to create a feminine silhouette, and below that are layers upon layers of material.
This is fit for a queen.
He extends his arms in offering, and I remove the garment from his hold, cradling it to my chest. “Thank you,” I whisper. “This is the finest gift I’ve ever received. Unless it disappears, of course.”
“If it does, it won’t be untilafteryou’re dressed. That way I can see you naked.” He waggles his brows. “I won’t deny that my goal is to get you underneath me.”
“Lucien…”
“And on top of me,” he says, leaning forward. His breath, a slight twist of cinnamon and peppermint, wafts over me, pleasing my senses. “I’ll take you in any way I can get you.”
I press a hand against his chest, desperate to maintain the little bit of space between us. “Friendship is all I can offer you.”
“I might be the master of illusions, but you are the mistress of lies.”
He covers my hand with his. The beating of his heart thrums harder against my palm, and the singing of his blood is a melody to my ears. I jerk my arm back, needing distance, and he tightens his hold to keep me in place.
“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave you be,” he says.
I inhale a fortifying breath. “I don’t want you.”
He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “You don’twantto want me. There’s a difference.”
“Not that I can see.” I yank my arm back with all my strength, and he releases me. “I should probably get dressed.Alone.”
He shoots me a disgruntled look before walking toward the door. “You’re just like Baxter: no fun at all,” he tosses over his shoulder.
“Good thing my aspiration in life isn’t to entertain you.”
“No, it’s to fuck me.”
I glare at him as he shuts the door in my face.
CHAPTER9
ADELAIDE
The dining room is far grander than I expect, and it momentarily steals my breath.
The table is lined with items meant for tea and dining, the silver and gold of the dishes and cutlery glinting in the candlelight, giving the space a romantic ambience. There are a dozen types of tea, and each one is in a porcelain teapot with matching cups, saucers, and sugar bowls. A frilly, white tablecloth covers the mahogany surface, like a tight-fitting gown covers a woman’s figure and enhances the shape. The dining set has low chairs, a soft fabric covering the seats.
“It’s too pretty to disturb,” I whisper to Lucien.
He pats my arm, tucked in his. “There are far grander displays in the palace.”
I bite my tongue to keep from responding that I’ve never been, according to what I remember. My lack of memory is not something the men of Wonderland are readily accepting, and it frustrates me that they can’t see I have no desire to regain the thoughts of my former self. They’re not giving me a choice in the matter, either.
