After what seemed like an eternity, they finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, and she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Straightening her spine, she nodded, and her escort began guiding her down the red rug leading toward the dais.
When she blinked, the rug had become a river of blood, shiny and warm.
Blood. On the feather and in the ballad.
It dripped from the streamers and the sconces. She looked up. The fresco had become a battlefield where thousands lay dying while a shadowy figure unfurled large black wings and brandished a mighty sword.
“Be strong, Daughter of Light. Do not be deceived by the Darkness,” said the gentle voice in her head.
She took a sharp breath and blinked again. The rug looked ordinary. The blood and the soft voice from her dream were gone.
“Is everything all right, my Lady?”
She hadn’t realized she had stopped walking and her fingers now dug into the escort’s arm. She looked at the dais. Alastor was halfway out of his seat, a look of deep concern etched across his face.
Swallowing, she said, “Yes, of course.”
Like a seasoned pro, she trained her face to appear indifferent and cool, though her insides felt fragile as glass.
The escort led her forward, and the closer they came to the dais, the more details she could discern.
Alastor’s ensemble was deep red with gold accents, while Ana-Elise looked radiant in an ornate flowing gown of gold silk with red jewels at her throat. Lian resisted the urge to snort, amused at the idea they had color-coordinated their attire.
Feron wore solid black, like he was at a funeral rather than a ball. His robes made his eyes look that much darker, and very empty.
Maybe he spent all the money – wherever that had come from – on the fancy decorations and restorations and couldn’t afford a new ensemble for himself.
Behind them stood Rowan, two knights she did not recognize, and –
“Gabriel,” she breathed.
The air instantly became very thin. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon. The flash of emotions on his face terrified her, and the second her eyes met his, a wave of longing and sorrow washed through her, heavy and deep. She felt as if she were drowning as the harsh reality of her words taunted her over and over in the prison of her mind. “I cannot stand the sight of you, I cannot stand the sight of you, I cannot stand the sight of you…”
Her nerves crumbled with each step closer to the dais, and her courage quickly dissolved into dread.
I can’t do it. I can’t face him, not after last night. Perhaps there really are Gods, and they have cursed me.
Her cheeks colored at the memory of their kiss.
A page stood beside Ana-Elise. He cleared his throat and announced, “The Lady Lianora.”
Her escort stopped at the foot of the dais and bowed. Lian dropped into a careful curtsy, her feet smarting as she did. She barely noticed them as she furtively glanced through her lashes at Gabriel. He stared off to the side, his face as white as hers was red.
What have I done?
When she rose, she found Alastor watching her with a half-smile. He discreetly inclined his head to Gabriel, and she shot him a warning look, her protesting feet fueling her temper. He knows. It has to be written all over my face. Oh, don’t you dare say anything, Alastor.
Her eyes flickered back to Gabriel.
Stop looking at him! You’re going to make things worse!
She tore her eyes off Gabriel long enough to rehearse the expected formal greeting in her head.
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and said in a rush, “It is an honor to be here tonight, and an even greater honor to stand in his liege’s presence. May I join Lord Feron in offering you, the Lady Ana-Elise and Prince Alastor, my sincerest congratulations and wishes for a long and prosperous life together. May Accalia thrive under your reign.”
Alastor smiled broadly, not noticing the sweat that had broken out over her forehead. “Thank you for your kindness, Lady Lianora. We are glad to have you with us this evening. May you enjoy the festivities.” He swept his hand in the air as he spoke, an unbearably slow motion.
She barely heard what he said as the voices continued to haunt her.
It’s all your fault. He’ll never speak to you again.
No! It wasn’t your fault; it was that man’s, that thing inside of you.
What thing? Do you even know if it’s real? What if you’re going mad?
That last thought shot a bolt of terror straight down to her core. She looked again at Gabriel and felt her knees tremble and bile rise in her throat. I have to get out of here.
She curtsied once more and practically dragged her escort away when Alastor’s voice called out, “Wait one moment, dear lady.”
“Yes?” she said, a little too curtly.
Alastor didn’t notice the impatience in her voice. “Since you are to be my sister, you deserve the best dance partner in the room.” He motioned someone forward, and her impatience soon turned into a rock in the pit of her stomach.
Gabriel, the color drained from his face, was slowly making his way toward them.
Alastor squished his lips together in an effort to keep from grinning as she nearly choked on her next breath. “In that notion, let us exchange Ralim for Gabriel. I think you’ll find Lord Gabriel a most suitable dancer.” He winked, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil, and she stared wide-eyed at him, hoping the panicked look on her face would alert him to her mortification.
She had no such luck, and her heartbeat doubled as Gabriel stopped in front of Ralim, placed his fist over his heart, and nodded. Ralim did the same and offered her hand to Gabriel, who stared at it before folding it carefully over his arm. She felt the curve of his muscles beneath his tunic, and she imagined his hands in her hair as his lips stole hungry, passionate kisses from her.
She flushed as he bowed and stiffly steered them toward the dance floor.
Neither of them spoke, and when she peeked up at him from the corner of her eye, straining not to move her head too much to do so, his eyes flickered down. She snapped her head forward, trying fervently not to focus on the heat radiating from his body and how much it reminded her of their first kiss.
Looking away, her eyes stopped on the figure of a tall, dark man leaning against the corner near the garden doors. His face was partially obscured by the shadow of the wall, but what she saw made her completely forget the kiss.
Smooth pale skin curved into perfectly formed features, and the way his black robes hung about his figure suggested lean muscle. His hair was as black and glossy as his attire, and it hung freely about his shoulders in long dark waves. But what stood out about him the most was his costume piece. His mask resembled a skull, only it was black and had two devilish horns protruding from the temples. Like the others in the room, it nearly covered his entire face, leaving much to the imagination. It was striking when combined with his dark garments.
The crowd shifted, and his eyes found hers.
For a moment, time stopped, and she could scarcely breathe. She felt inexplicably drawn to him by a force so powerful and certain it sent her head reeling. His mouth dropped open ever so slightly, and she could imagine his eyes widening.
They stayed like that, somewhere between then and now, lost only to themselves.
Then, slowly, a sly grin crept across his lips.
She blinked as light and sound rushed past her, the figures and decorations falling back into place. The room seemed louder, and she felt light-headed. As if of their own accord, her eyes roamed back to the corner, but the dark man was gone, leaving not so much as the shadow of his cloak, and she wondered if he, too, were an illusion.
They were drawing upon the dance floor when the suite ended, and the dancers applauded the orchestra. As they took their positions within the circle, her hand in his, the tune shifted into something somber and mellow. He leaned close to her ear. “I’ve waited for this moment for what seems like an
eternity since I last saw you,” he said in a low voice as they began stepping in time to the slow, lilting thrum of the melancholy ballad.
“And my love so fair did take
My breath, my heart for her own sake,” sang the minstrel.
She turned as the song lifted, the folds of her skirt swirling around her throbbing ankles. But the moment her fingers touched Gabriel’s, her pain and the memory of the stranger disappeared, and she forgot how terribly frightened she had been these past few days. He pulled her in closer, his hazel eyes boring into hers. “I want you to know my feelings are real, and my heart belongs to you for as long as you’ll have it, if you’ll have it.”
“Oh, my dear heart, my all
Forgive the vices I’ve caused you.”
Her breath caught in her chest. She turned in a half-arc with Gabriel’s arm around her waist, barely touching her, as if he was afraid to. His touch sent goose bumps up her spine. Her chest ached; it genuinely hurt to be held by him. A piece of her heart had been missing and longed to be whole again.
“I need you, Gabriel,” she said breathlessly. It hurt to admit it. Her whole life, she had tried so desperately to not want people, to not depend on them, because when she did she only got hurt. But she needed him. She needed the man who had stolen her heart and had become one of her best friends, as frightening a realization as it was.
He pulled her to him as the music swelled.
“I dare not kiss your lips,
For fear you will steal my own soul.”
“Truly?” he asked.
Her eyes stung mercilessly as she gazed up into his sweet, hopeful gaze. Damn these tears!
“I cannot stand the sight of you…”
“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I don’t know what came over me last night.”
“Think of me, my love, my all,
When I have fin’ly answered Death’s one call
And bid you good night eternal.”
His breath caught as the last note hung in the air.
The couples began clapping, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Gabriel lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “I would forgive you anything,” he said softly. His eyes flickered as the applause died down. “Meet me in the garden?”
It was like a weight she hadn’t realized she carried had been lifted. Her voice caught in her throat, and she simply nodded.
He smiled, like the first rays of sunlight after a terrible storm. “I must check in with the other guard. Meet you soon?”
She nodded again, mute. Her throat was suddenly very dry, so devoid of moisture that when she swallowed she nearly choked.
Reluctantly, he released her hand, bowed, and strode toward the dais.
She watched him go, unable to take her eyes off him, like it was the last time she’d ever see him again. Gabriel, my Gabriel. I can make it right. I will make this right.
Flutterings of doubt danced in her chest. What if the darker side of her strong-armed her sensibilities again? What if she ended up hurting him worse than before? Was that a chance she was willing to take, to possibly damage their relationship beyond repair?
The first notes of another tune floated through the air, and she turned to leave when someone took her hand and started leading her back to the dance floor.
“That was quick,” she said, her confusion becoming bittersweet anticipation at the prospect of being held by Gabriel again. “Did you change your…” Her eyes froze on the black glove holding her hand then gradually made their way up the shimmering dark fabric to the horned devil mask.
It was the stranger she had seen across the room earlier. He was staring at her steadfastly, the hint of a mischievous smile playing on his pale lips.
“You,” she breathed.
He made no reply and only smiled in that seductive, knowing way.
He was even more gorgeous up close, or at least from what her imagination would lead her to believe. Intricate patterns made from black pearls swirled throughout his tunic and pants. His undershirt was black silk, and his tall black boots looked like they were made from expensive leather. The cologne he wore smelled sharp but sweet, like cinnamon and lust.
She was speechless as he swung her around to face him and began swaying to the beat of a tune he must have heard only in his head. It was much slower than the lively courante dancing through the air. They stood just outside the boundaries of the dance floor; the other dancers didn’t seem to notice them at all, as if they were invisible.
He watched her intently as he pulled her closer, so close she had to almost look straight up to hold his gaze. He held her with the intimacy of a lover, as only Gabriel had, and it made her uncomfortable and excited at the same time. It felt so strangely familiar, like coming home for the first time in ages.
She blinked, coming to her senses. What am I doing? If Gabriel sees me like this…
She tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he resisted. “Stay with me,” he whispered.
At the sound of his low, musical voice, the warning in her head subsided, and her heart stopped its rapid ascent as he tucked her against his chest. She should have been scared, maybe even repulsed by his audacity, but she could not bring herself to fight him.
“I don’t know you,” she said. It took longer for her to form the thought; her mind felt like it was encased in fog.
“Are you sure?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Actually, I take that back. I know the type of man you are. You’re arrogant, thinking you can charm your way into the hearts and beds of women with an attractive smile and pretty words.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “So you think my smile is attractive?”
Deep down inside, she had to admit some part of her was attracted to him. He was alluring, and though she should be frightened and wary of him, some part of him called to a piece of her she was not aware of until now.
She pursed her lips, looking away.
He chuckled, and her expression soured even more. “Has anyone told you that you look quite lovely when you’re angry?” he said.
She looked at him then, sharply. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I wouldn’t dare, my Lady,” he murmured. “But when I saw you, I knew I would forever regret it if I didn’t share at least one dance with you.”
“A dance I never gave you permission to have.”
“And yet it appears we are, indeed, dancing.”
She glared at him. She thought about moving her hand, but she could not lift so much as a finger. Why can I not move? Who is he?
They rocked back and forth to the imaginary melody, and she felt her muscles – and her mind – relaxing against her will into the fold of his arms.
“It’s been a long time since I danced like this with anyone.” It sounded more like he was talking to himself than to her, somewhere between sad and wistful.
She stared past his shoulder into the crowd. “I gather you don’t attend many masques?”
He chuckled under his breath, and his laughter vibrated through her body. “One might say I am a bit of a recluse.”
“I can’t imagine someone like you keeping to the shadows. You seem to crave attention, particularly that of women if I had to guess.” Her tone was condescending; she didn’t mean it as a compliment.
That same dry smile spread across his lips. “Sometimes you are safer in the dark.”
“Safer in the dark.” She thought of Ursa and Gabriel’s kiss and how different things may have gone had she never seen that.
“That may be true,” she said carefully, “but then you never learn to appreciate the light.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re different from the others, the courtiers, that is.”
With some reluctance, she returned his wry smile. “Well, I’m not exactly of noble blood.”
He pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. He studied her for a second. “What’s your name?”
“You don’t already know? Perhaps my travesties are not
as famous as I had thought.”
The man who had seemed so confident looked very fragile all of a sudden, almost lonely. A piece of her felt sorry for him, though she reminded herself she barely knew him. Maybe he had done something to deserve to be left alone, something so terrible that the rest of the world had shunned him.
And yet she was not afraid.
She was on the verge of speaking when he stepped back, unwrapping her from his arms. He bowed deeply. “Thank you for the dance, kind lady. It has been the highlight of my evening.” He reached out and brushed back a curl from her face, a gesture so tender one would have thought he had done it a thousand times. “Dream of me, and maybe we will meet again.”
It was like being jolted by lightning.
By the time she regained her breath, he had already slipped into the crowd, vanishing from sight. She tilted her head, trying to see through the dancers, but did not see so much as a trace of his dark robes.
Her sluggish mind struggled to make sense of what was happening to her. What am I looking for? A person? An object? Why do I feel so… numb?
Someone was looking at her; she could feel their gaze burning into her back. When she turned around, Gabriel was staring back at her. He looked deeply hurt for a reason she could not fathom.
Oh, no. Did I lash out at him again? I don’t remember anything. He left only a few seconds ago to talk to the guards, and I’ve been standing here waiting for him. Why is he looking at me like that?
An abrupt hush fell over the crowd as every head turned toward the grand staircase. She peeled her eyes off of Gabriel and lost her breath.
Countess Merí was descending the last few steps. Her long black hair had been pulled halfway up, and it fell in soft curls down her back with a few tendrils framing her face. A dainty mask with black feather accents hid her eyes, which were done up in dark purple eye shadow. Her dress was a deep plum with an empire waistline that flowed all the way to the floor and a small train with lacy beadwork sewn along the hem. It was a mixture of satin and a silvery sheer, and it shimmered in the light as she moved. She looked so exquisite that she could have been one of the Goddesses from the painting.
Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) Page 13
