by Raquel Dove
As lavish as the entire palace complex was, it paled in comparison to the splendor that met Alexandra’s eyes when Balthazar led her into the building that was part of his private quarters. The carved wood ceiling sat high above her supported by vaulted columns. Only a few candles lighted the windowless space, but the flames bounced off the white marble and gold friezes that ran around the perimeter and lit the area enough for Alex to see. Balthazar’s bare back was turned to her as he walked to the far side of the room. He stopped to look at one of the relief pictures that was hammered into pure gold. It was a demon in a very authoritative pose. The detail of it was exquisite and Alex could make out every nuance of the demon’s features. He looked like an older version of Balthazar, except his nose was a little more crooked. She thought she recognized him, but then again it was probably just because he looked so much like Balthazar. There was such a serene look on his face.
“My father,” Balthazar said pointing to the demon. Alex could hear the sadness in his voice. He didn’t need to tell her that he missed him. She understood perfectly how he felt.
“You look very much like him,” Alex said. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to run her hand down his back and comfort him in some way, but she was too nervous to do that.
“He was truly great,” Balthazar said, turning finally to Alex. “As were all the Lord Sultans before him.”
Balthazar held his hand out to Alex and she placed her smaller hand in his. Despite the chill of the room, a blush heated Alexandra’s cheeks. Balthazar marveled at the way the color spread from her cheek all the way down her slender neck. Blushing was a curious phenomenon that didn’t occur in demons. Balthazar assumed it was a symptom of anxiety, as the smell of uncertainty permeated the air in her scent.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” Balthazar said softly. It was a foul smell that didn’t blend well with her pure scent. He gently pulled her a little closer to him.
“I’m not afraid,” Alex said, shaking her head. She couldn’t look up at him. She was concentrating on suppressing the arousal that was so close to erupting.
“I can smell your anxiety, girl,” Balthazar said. He ducked his head down a little, trying to look her in the eyes.
“Dang it,” Alex said taking her hand away from Balthazar’s, “that’s not fair. My emotions are supposed to be private.”
“It’s not like I can help it,” Balthazar said, smirking as he picked up her hand again.
“I’m not afraid,” Alex said, letting him lace his fingers with hers. “I’m just…nervous.”
“Come, I want to share something with you,” Balthazar said.
He led her around the hall and paused at a few friezes that Alex appeared to be interested in. They came to a stop just before the last solid gold plate. Alex felt the nag of recognition as she gazed into the gilded face of one of Balthazar’s ancestor.
“Who’s that?” Alex asked, trying to remember where she had seen him.
“This is my grandsire,” Balthazar said. “He disappeared a centuries before I was born. My father spent much of his life searching for him.”
Alex stared at the face. He didn’t look a lot like Balthazar, but she knew she had seen him somewhere. She just couldn’t place where.
“Come,” Balthazar said, gesturing for her to follow him through a small door off the main chamber.
Alex stepped through the door and into a large room lined with shelves up to the ceiling and stacked with rolled parchment scrolls. Balthazar removed several scrolls from a section of shelf just beside the door. He reached to the back of the shelf and pulled on a switch that opened a hidden square door on the far side of the room.
Alex looked at him in surprise. The expression on his face was the sweetest thing she had ever seen. He was sharing a secret with her and there was a smile shining through his eyes as he looked back at her.
Balthazar crouched through the square doorway and motioned for Alex to follow him. She did happily, excited to see what was in his secret room. Balthazar lit a candle and set it on the table so Alex could see in the room. It was a small space with only enough room for two seating cushions, a small table and a bookshelf on one wall. There were scrolls and peculiar objects on the little bookshelf that Alex wanted to study.
“My father would bring me here every year on the eve of my birth,” Balthazar said, turning to Alexandra. “We would spend the evening in here and he would tell me the tales of my predecessors, and how one day I would surpass them all. This is the first eve that he will not do so.”
Alex felt the pain behind his words. He would probably never say so, but she could tell he missed his father deeply. He sat down on one of the cushions and motioned for her to sit on the other one next to him. They were so close that their legs touched when she sat down. He looked down at her and the look in his eyes nearly made her stop breathing.
“Will you spend the evening with me here?” he asked, his voice soft as he picked up her hand again. “I would rather not spend it alone.”
Her heart skipped a beat. How could she say no to him, even if she wanted to? More importantly, if she allowed herself to fall for him, how could she ever go back home?
45
