by Marian Tee
You say that, Aurora signed back in retort, and yet you’re also doing it, too. She glanced pointedly at the way her sister was quickly putting all their bullets in their father’s snuffbox.
Only because I can’t help panicking with the rest of you---
Papa will kill you for what you’re doing to his snuff, by the way.
Oh, blast it, I had no choice---
The door behind them opened.
“Daughters, le Marquis di Lunare is here.”
The Orpheline sisters turned to face the two gentlemen with overly bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and becoming smiles. They curtsied prettily and murmured their greetings in unison.
Soleil watched Ilie bow and wondered if it was just her heart that was beating madly. But if it were, how could her younger sisters not be similarly affected? He was so breathtakingly handsome it almost made her overlook the fact that he was no ordinary nobleman.
Almost, but not quite.
Ilie exchanged small talk with her sisters before going to her last. When he stood in front of her, she knew she should raise her gaze up to him, which was the polite thing to do. But she couldn’t. She was suddenly, unbearably shy, her gaze stuck at his perfectly knotted cravat.
“Lady Soleil?” Ilie was quietly amused at the way his heartkeeper was acting. She was said to to be a calm-headed, methodical strategist in the battlefield and yet with him, she was more often than not adorably awkward.
“Y-yes?” Soleil inwardly cringed, with the way her voice had come out a croak.
Thankfully, the marquis didn’t seem to notice, with his voice remaining charmingly courteous as he murmured, “I have taken the liberty of asking permission from your father to escort you to a ball I’ve been invited to. It would be my pleasure if you were to honor me with your company for tonight’s ball.”
Carefully avoiding his gaze, she turned to the baron. “Papa?” She stared at him meaningfully, telling him without words to refuse.
But instead, Charles said jovially, “Go on, my dear. You should change into one of your pretty gowns. You wouldn’t want to keep the marquis waiting too long, would you?”
What?
But before she could protest, her sisters had already clasped her arm on each side and were hurriedly urging her towards the door. “Papa’s right,” Aurora was saying. “We should get moving, there’s still your gown to choose and your shoes.”
“I’ll do her hair,” Fleur volunteered. “I know just the perfect style for it.”
As she was rushed out to the hallway, the marquis asked lazily, I look forward to being dazzled.
Shut up.
Fleur gazed at her sister with interest. “Why are you suddenly blushing, Soleil?”
“N-nothing.” But it was hard not to blush even more, with the seductive sound of Ilie’s laughter trailing after Soleil.
As they started to ascend the stairs, he told her, Don’t forget to keep your hair up.
She remembered that time in the carriage, when he had told her why he had wanted her hair styled in such a way---
So I’d have the pleasure of taking it down.
---and Soleil missed a step. She heard Ilie laugh again, knew he had read her mind, and her teeth gnashed. Cad!
As Aurora helped Soleil up, she noticed the way her sister was gritting her teeth and shook her head in bemusement. “You are acting so oddly, Soleil. Is this really how women in love act?”
Soleil gasped.
Is it, milady, Ilie said wickedly.
“Shut up.”
Her two sisters turned to her, and realizing she had blurted the words out loud, she shook her head, stammering, “Not you two.”
“Then who?” Aurora asked, even more confused now.
Even by the time Soleil and Ilie were safely ensconced in the luxurious accommodation of his gleaming black barouche, the marquis’ shoulders were still rocking with silent mirth while she stared at him, fuming.
“I am serious, milord. You should never communicate with me that way again. It’s terribly confusing!”
“I understand,” Ilie said repentantly, but the gleam in his silver eyes told her he was likely to keep doing it, if only to see her flustered.
Solei rolled her eyes. “You, sir, are not convincing anyone with---ah!” In a blink of an eye, she found herself dragged into the marquis’ lap, her legs dangling on one side. The marquis started nuzzling her neck, and she froze.
“You smell wonderful,” he murmured against the tender skin of her neck. “So good, it makes me want to take a bite of you.”
When his fangs scraped against the skin, Soleil was embarrassed to realize she was more excited than terrified, enough for her to press her legs together, hoping she wouldn’t get wet.
But of course she did.
And the marquis knew it, too.
“Do you know,” he murmured lazily, “that my hearing is good enough to sense when you’re just about to get wet? The creamy liquid coming out of you, drenching your drawers---”
“Milord!” Oh my God, it was impossible to stop her body from responding, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Please! I don’t want to attend a ball feeling…”
“What?”
“You know!”
Consternation sparked in his heartkeeper’s blue eyes, and Ilie wondered if she knew how seeing her mad only made him want her more. Probably not, he thought wryly, knowing that for someone as pragmatic as his lily, it would make no sense.
You say you like me and yet you also like seeing me angry? That doesn’t make any sense, milord!
His lips twitched at the thought, and lowering his head, he stole a kiss from her. He intended it to last for a moment, but when their lips touched, he realized it had been stupid to think he could stop there.
He stroked her tongue with his, and when she whimpered, he couldn’t help kissing her more deeply.
“M-milord.”
It was a weakly voiced protest, but Ilie forced himself to heed it, knowing that he wouldn’t want her to attend the ball smelling of arousal either. No fucking way, he thought grimly, considering who were there.
Reluctantly lifting his mouth off hers, he told her raggedly, “I apologize, milady. When you are near me, I find myself unable to stay in control.”
With her head pressed against his chest, Soleil could feel his heart still racing and knew that the marquis had been telling the truth. He truly wanted her that much. Her head whirled at the thought.
Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he said, “Distract me, ma lisse. Tell me about your day.”
She said slowly, “Zari---”
“The soul seer?”
“Yes.” She paused. “She had a vision about me.”
He stilled. “And?”
She remembered how Zari had gone pale, her voice becoming toneless as she whispered disjointedly of things that had happened or were yet to happen.
BLUE.
The color of the ocean, its crashing waves a distant sound---
The color of silk, tainted with evil and tarnished dreams---
The color of your dying, haunted eyes---
Don’t fall.
Don’t fall.
Don’t fall.
The person close to you is not to be trusted.
“Milady?”
Straightening in his lap, Soleil pushed all thoughts away. “She warned me against death, but…” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “With the kind of life I lead, death is always a possibility.
Ilie was frowning. “You must not disregard her warning so lightly, ma lisse. Soul seers have the knack of sensing danger that have tremendously ill consequences if they were to take place.”
“I can’t worry about what I don’t know, milord. I can only take precautions, and I have been doing that, always. Too many people’s lives depend on me, and I am aware of this.”
The marquis gazed at her broodingly. “Promise me this, at least. You will always let me know when you leave for an operation.”
“If you’re going to stop me from working,” she began hotly.
“I wish to merely ascertain I am near enough to be of help if it is necessary that I intervene.” Forestalling her argument, he went on to say, “I solemnly vow as well that I will only intervene when your life is expressly threatened.”
They stared at each other, but it was Soleil who backed down first, her pragmatic side winning. “Fine.” Having the marquis on her side would mean having an additional ace up her sleeve, and what right-minded soldier would argue against that?
He smirked.
“Stop looking smug.”
The carriage had slowed down then, preventing the marquis from replying. When the coachman opened the door, Ilie jumped down and offered his hand to help her out. He waited until her fingers were in his hold before saying, “I forgot to tell you.”
“What is it?”
This is a party of otherworlders.
WHAT?
As expected, she immediately tried to spin around and climb back into the carriage, causing Ilie to chuckle even as he tightened his grip on her hand. Pulling her forcibly to him, he told her, You will be fine. Just do not let them know you are one of the Trois Belle Lames.
She said uneasily, It’s not like they would know anything about that---
Oh, trust me, they know, he said drily. But don’t take my word for it.
You’re just trying to scare me.
You’ll see. With a smile, he pulled her closer to him as they walked forward. But for now, let us enjoy the evening. A pair of footmen swiftly threw the ivory-coated double doors open to let them pass, and as they descended the sweeping staircase leading to the ballroom, she saw everyone turn towards them.
Her knees under her skirt threatened to give out, but the marquis, as if sensing the sudden drop in her composure, tightened his hold on her.
You are with me, ma lisse. Do not forget that. I pity anyone who tries to harm one strand on your lovely head.
She was about to reply when she noticed something strangely familiar. Glancing up, she saw an orchestra playing from the balcony, mostly mermen – it was easy to recognize them by their glistening skins.
And they were playing her song, she realized. La Vie En Rose, the How I Met Your Mother version.
Her head snapped towards Ilie.
This is supposed to calm you, yes?
It’s also supposed to be what I’m listening to when I’m about to fight.
As the marquis drew her to the dance floor, he murmured words that Soleil would never have even thought someone like him would care to know.
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance when you’re perfectly free.
When Ilie glanced down at his heartkeeper, he almost, almost smiled. She was looking at him with stars in her eyes, something that he hadn’t been able to accomplish despite being a marquis with incomparable wealth or a half-demon whose power few beings on earth would ever match.
Fleur was right, he thought. His beautiful, brave Soleil was a hopeless romantic.
And…he liked it that way.
Even if it meant having to be endlessly ribbed by the duke and the rest of the Galere, even if it meant having to memorize all the fucking poems in the world---
He would do it, if in exchange he would be able to keep this woman looking at him the way she was looking at him now…for eternity.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After the dance, the marquis began introducing her to the otherworlders, and with every introduction, his words became more and more outrageous.
She is the creature who dazzled the man in him.
She is the morsel that his wolf could not get enough of.
It was thoroughly entertaining, enough to distract them from asking too much about her real name and background. It was also infinitely embarrassing, enough to leave her torn between gagging him with his cravat and smothering him with kisses.
Dancing resumed after dinner, but the marquis invited her for a walk in the gardens. As they went down the marbled pathway, he asked her yet again about Zari’s visions. When he had her repeating everything for the third time, she shook her head, saying, “I, too, have gone over it several times, milord. I do not believe there is anything else I can do except be wary of the color blue.”
“True.” Without missing a step, the marquis carefully moved her to his other side as they continued on. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that there were only rose bushes growing on his left.
And they were the shade of blue.
When she turned to him with merriment dancing in her eyes, he said flatly, “You may laugh all you want, but until you remain mortal, I will not take any chances.”
“Oh, Ilie.” He could be so dangerously sweet!
He stilled. “It has been a long time since you had last called me by my first name.” His gaze captured hers. “I like it…Soleil.”
Her cheeks became flushed with color, Soleil unable to believe the amount of pleasure she derived from simply hearing the marquis say her name. I’m being too, too silly. She knew this, and yet…she couldn’t stop herself from feeling that way.
How was it that being silly felt so glorious?
When they stopped, she saw that they had reached a pillared gazebo, hidden in the deeper and darker end of the garden, where there were more shadows than light. The marquis took a step towards her, and she found herself instinctively and breathlessly retreating until her back hit one of the pillars. She clutched it from behind, its massive width preventing her from even encircling it with her arms halfway.
The marquis placed his hands on the pillar, trapping her in his hold. “You have been captured.”
“And i-if I am?”
“Then you must submit to whatever I ask of you.”
Her heart slammed against her chest. “And w-what would you ask, milord?”
“Your honesty.”
Her eyes widened.
“I wish to know if you truly possess not a single doubt that I may have something to do with your impending death?” It mattered to him very much that she did not. Ever since he had learned of the soul seer’s visions, Ilie had wondered what he would do if it turned out that Soleil did not trust him.
And if she didn’t, he could not even blame her for it. As a half-demon, his very nature did not inspire trust, and more so when one considered his duty as part of the Galere. His first loyalty would always be to the demon duke.
He gazed down at her. “Milady?”
She swallowed, the hooded look in her eyes ironically making it clear just how much her answer meant to him. Her entire life, she had been trained to distrust otherworlders and most especially demons. They were the reason she had been cursed, the reason she had been sentenced to die as an infant.
But even so---
“If only,” she whispered unevenly, “truth serums also worked in making people confess their feelings, then I would---ah---what are you doing?” she ended up half-hissing, half-shrieking.
“A reward…” The marquis’ fingers were inhumanly swift as they made short work of the row of pearl buttons at the back of her gown. “For your trust---”
What? A cool breeze touched her now-naked back, and she gasped, “I don’t need a reward---”
He smiled down at her. “Then it is a reward for myself.” The last button was released, and then the marquis was pulling the gown off her shoulders.
“No!”
But it was too late, the gown falling to the floor.
“Milord---oh.” He had not wasted time, his mouth latching on one nipple, and her eyes closed. He began kneading her already aching breasts, and she couldn’t stop herself from clutching his head and pressing her nipple deeper into his mouth.
Oh, how addictive this sensation was!
Heat churned inside of her when he did the same thing to her other breast, it
s flames licking higher and higher, touching every part of her body. But when he started to move his mouth down, she shook her head. “W-wait!”
He lifted his head.
“I w-want it to be different.” She could feel her cheeks turning pink as she spoke. “You keep doing it…” She swallowed. “I want it to be my…turn.”
Ah. He straightened to his full height. “Do you mean---” His lips curved in a knowing smile. “You wish to have my cock in your mouth?”
Her eyes flew to him in a mixture of embarrassment and vexation, and she exclaimed, “Must you always be so explicit?”
“Only because I love to see the blush stealing your cheeks,” he answered right away. “It makes me think of a rose that only unfurls its petals in greeting in my presence.”
The redness in her cheeks deepened. “You and your words,” Soleil muttered. “You say that to every lady you seduce, don’t you?”
“Actually, no.” Ilie was being honest. “I cannot recall having to woo any woman. They always want to be fucked.”
“Ilie!”
“Fear not, milady,” he teased. “You are special---”
“Only because I’m your heartkeeper,” she said crossly. She tried covering her breasts, thinking it was ridiculous to argue with a half-demon, half-wolf marquis while she stood half-naked in front of him like some sacrificial virgin.
But the marquis wouldn’t let her. Drawing her arms back to her side, he murmured in feigned puzzlement, “You want my cock in your mouth and yet you cannot even stand for me to stare at your breasts---”
“Curse you!”
His laughter was rich and sensual, but his touch was gentle as he traced her lips. “You are certain about this?”
“Stop asking me,” she mumbled. “You’re just making me more nervous.”
“On your knees then, ma lisse.”
Oh.
The command alone was more than enough for her entire body to tremble in sensual excitement, more so when the wind around them seemed to keep her nipples in a perpetual state of arousal.
Sinking to her knees, she watched the marquis unzip his breeches and release his cock. It was already fully erect, and she was momentarily daunted. Logically speaking, she knew it would fit her mouth, but – how long would she be able to…before…choking?
