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A garbled noise left my throat as they flicked across the mounds of my corseted breasts, her wickedness concealed by the breadth of her frame.
“What are you—”
“Tell me, Olympia,” she purred, leaning close. The earthy note of ginger on her breath was not unpleasant.
“It is in my favor to tell younothing, Zoei,” I quipped with bravado I hardly felt. Goosebumps prickled across my skin, making every inch come alive in a deliciously foreign way.
My eyes darted across the room, fearing watchful spies and the gossip that would ensue.
“Tsk, tsk.Touchy, touchy,” she chastised.
Her lips were barely inches from me now, the scent of her skin, the enigmatic mix of hard citrus and pine tugging me into a tight, inescapable spiral.
“Olly,” she breathed, shocking me into a wide-eyed daze with the use of my pet name. It was much too soft and intimate for her lips.
“Are you hard for me?”
A broken gasp tore from my throat.
All eyes are on you, Olly.
“N-no,” I denied, hating the tremble in my voice.
“Are you sure?”
Chapter Six
Olympia
Panic twinged within my chest, curling into a fist of anxiety. The sensation sat heavily in my core like an unshakeable stone—unfortunately, that was not a foreign predicament, given my nervous nature. This time, however, the numbness in my fingers and toes came as a surprise. My own limbs felt unfamiliar, and I cursed Zoei and her fiery taunting for turning me temporarily immobile.
Was I a fool to believe the gardens would provide relief?
Away from the grand hall and tucked into the terraced side of a mountain cliff, Rose Haven was officially the property of the monastery that had existed before Highblade Palace had been erected three centuries ago.
In the darkness, I made out the shadow of squat stone buildings several levels below, hovering so low they seemed to be hugging the ground. Zoei and I had spent hours playing in this hallowed grass as children, the tombstones of priestesses past making the perfect hiding spot for young’uns too quick to be caught by doddering holy people with waning eyesight.
The memory brought a flash of a smile, dashed away quickly by a wave of nerves.
Zoei was no longer the unburdened child that lived in the depths of my mind, and returning to soft, happier times only made me lose sight of the monster she had become—one who inspired gasps of fear from her peers and ruled Agnivale with fiery fists of steel.
The little girl who chased me down the monastery in bare feet and giggles was long gone. In her place was someone I would be foolish to turn my back on.
Breathing was still a challenge as I descended the rough stone stairs, one hand on the banister to keep my balance.
Rose Haven was made up of six distinct levels, each dotted with roses from the valley just beyond the palace. Fresh blooms spilled artfully down a terraced mountainside, dotted with tiny lights for visibility in the inky darkness.
As a child, I’d loved the sight of these roses, red with just a touch of orange. Even from a distance, as we traveled toward Highblade Palace, the roses would call to us from the horizon like a silky beacon, their warmth apparent from afar.
Now, however, I wondered how roses could look violent. No longer did the orange notes seem charming and inviting. Now, they were too harsh, too jarring, as though the blooms had shifted their purpose from delighting to terrifying guests.
I reached out with my powers, feeling the energy of rose bushes as they swayed and rustled lightly in the wind. They were at peace, their façade a false insight into their violent nature.
A short stone bench was nestled between two flowering bushes. I sat between them, assuring myself I wasnothiding. I had nothing and no one to hide from. No feelings to avoid. Nothing was threatening to burst free of my trousers.
The heavy scent of roses settled in my lungs, and I closed my eyes, listening to the sweet notes of a violin drifting from the grand hall and intermingling with the wind.
Are you hard for me?
