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“Why wouldn’t I?”
Interesting.The guild fascinated me, and I desperately wanted to know more about it, but I was struggling to stay awake. “How long have you been here?”
“In the family? Years.”
That was vague, but I was too exhausted to properly interrogate her. Except, perhaps… “Did your, er, family perhaps have anything to do with some ships sinking recently?”
She glanced back over her shoulder at me. “Why?”
Should I lie? “The Lord and Lady of Inbetwixt mentioned it today,” I said bluntly, yawning. “It just sounded interesting.”
Siobhan opened the door at the top of the landing to reveal another long hallway. This one, however, reminded me less of an underground tunnel and more of one of the palace corridors. Soft carpets covered the polished wooden floor, and expensive-looking paintings hung on the walls, illuminated by the glow of mounted wisp lanterns.
She laughed. “Interesting is a word for it, but you’d have to ask father about that sort of thing. No one else will tell you anything, yes, no, up, down, or otherwise.”
“Got it.”
At the end of the hall was a lavishly decorated sitting room, unlike any home I’d seen in the capital. The walls were covered with fine silk tapestries and paintings, and golden candelabras lit every corner. Everywhere I looked, there was luxury nearly as grand as the obsidian palace.
Up another flight of stairs, I barely paid attention to where we were going until we came to a halt outside another closed door.
Siobhan pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter. “I’m sure you’ll both be comfortable.”
The room was smaller than the tower room I’d occupied as of late but still three times the size of the room I’d shared with Rosey down in the servants’ quarters. Heavy velvet curtains draped over the windows, and a thick braided rug covered the wooden floor. In the corner sat an antique chest, and beside it, an old trunk bursting with books and glittering knickknacks—beads, coins, feathers from exotic birds—no doubt stolen, I supposed. Against the far wall, a large bed was the focal point of the room, covered in a plush red blanket and a mountain of feather pillows. I almost moaned at how inviting it looked.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, already itching to launch myself into the pillows.
Later, I realized I should have asked her to clarify what she meant by “both.”
* * *
The soundof the door opening shook me awake.
My heart pounded against my ribs, and I sat up, disoriented. I ran one hand nervously over the sweat-dampened skin of my neck and peered into the darkened room.
Pale moonlight cast a long beam across the floor, and it was only by its glow that I could make out the dark figure prowling toward me out of the shadows.
My mouth fell open in a gasp, and for a split second, I was quite sure I was dreaming. I kicked off my quilt and scrambled up, letting out a startled scream loud enough to wake the entire city. “By the fucking Source!”
Scion sauntered toward me through the shadows, coming into sharper relief the closer he came. His moonbeam gaze drank in every inch of me, a confident smirk plastered across his too-handsome face. “The Source may very well be able to hear you, darling, if you keep screaming like that.”
“I—”
My mouth went dry, and worse, my eyes betrayed me, gliding down his bare upper body and finding nothing but corded muscles, as if he’d been carved from stone to stand on some pedestal rather than born of life itself. His onyx-colored hair was dripping wet, as if he’d just bathed in the time that I’d been asleep, and he wore nothing but fitted black trousers, his armor nowhere to be found.
My hand twitched ever so slightly as if wanting to reach out and touch him—if only to ensure this wasn’t some latest trick of my subconscious. Some new illusion. A fairy trap.
“Have you gone mad?” I choked, shaking my head to clear it. “What would possess you to simply barge in here?”
He smiled. “You didn’t answer the door.”
I made a noise in my throat that was nowhere near speech—an entirely unattractive gurgle of shock.
I’d had many vivid dreams since moving to the obsidian tower, most of a nature that I wouldn’t dare speak aloud. This had to be a dream, yet… I sunk my teeth deliberately into my lip, and a sharp sting of pain jolted through me, grounding me in the present. “Why the fuck would I answer the door? This is my room.”
The prince reached the edge of the bed and thrust out a hand, tangling his fingers in my hair. He dragged me up to kneeling, rough and hurried, until I was nearly eye level with him. His eyebrow ticked up. “Is it not my room as well?”
My eyes widened, even as tiny sparks seemed to flit down my neck, where his fingers pressed into my skin. I glanced down at my own pale flesh, barely concealed by the thin fabric of my underthings, heat rising to my face, my chest, my entire body, then to his outstretched arm. His body seemed to glow slightly in the moonlight.
