Song of Darkness

Chapter 41

With both the server and the incident dealt with, I assess the restaurant for the first time.

It appears just like any high-end establishment in Lyria. Beautiful artwork hangs at intervals from glossy wooden panels. Golden strips of light illuminate a ceiling painted in floral swirls. Glasses clink and there's a low murmur of voices.

Upon each white tablecloth is a black candelabra, and each place is set with two knives, two forks, and a spoon. Only our table is a little more decorated. A wreath of orchids surrounds the candelabra; their purple petals scattered across the cloth. And judging by the glasses set out for us, the drink in the ice bucket at the end of our table must be wine.

"Just as you requested, huh?" I comment.

"It didn't take much to arrange. Only a desire to please you." He leans in closer. "Have I succeeded?"

"The orchids are pretty..." I reply idly. I can't pretend to be dissatisfied, but no way am I admitting I'm impressed. He doesn't deserve that kind of praise. My captor bringing me out on a leash? No way.

"I'm looking at something prettier."

I inch away from him, crossing my arms. "Stop with the stupid charm." I hiss.

"Manners." Ayden reminds me, gently unfolding my arms.

Right. Manners. I'm supposed to be pretending to be attracted to him. Which is extremely challenging when, in reality, I'm trying to stop being attracted to him.

Holding my tongue over another retort, I take the time to glance over the menu.

"The meat here isn't manufactured." Ayden advises quietly.

"Thank you." I reluctantly reply. I hadn't even considered food in this realm. Dark-siders wouldn't care about the welfare of animals, so why wouldn't their meat be real? I'm an idiot for not thinking of that before. And then an ugly thought punches me in the stomach. "Have you ever fed me..."

"No. I would never."

"Right. Of course." Relief shudders through me, even while I pause to decide whether or not I trust him to be telling the truth. "Ok."

Crisis averted, my attention slides back to the menu. Ayden takes the opportunity to fill our wine glasses. When the server returns, I order a margherita pizza, just to be on the safe side. Ayden orders a veg stir fry.

"Did you order that just to please me?" I accuse once the server is out of earshot.

"You presume a lot about me without asking the real questions. Of course I've eaten real meat before, but that doesn't mean I would choose it over the manufactured stuff. There are social situations where it's unavoidable, but that's not with you tonight."

"I didn't think you would care."

"How things appear on the outside doesn't always reflect what's on the inside. A dark oyster can still hide a bright pearl."

I pretend to gag. "Point taken. But I'd much rather deal with your incessant charm than hear such soppy words of wisdom pour from your mouth."

"Never again. You have my word."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Mm. Are you going to hold me in bed tonight?" He smirks knowingly.

I roll my eyes. "Just because I'd rather deal with you like this, doesn't mean I'm going to be any more receptive than I was five minutes ago."

"We'll see." He gives me a wink.

We fall into an oddly companionable silence.

"Let's play a game." Ayden suggests after a minute. "Truth or drink. We each take it in turns to ask the other a question. If you answer, you must only speak the truth. You may pass on a question by taking a sip of your wine."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not doing that with you ever again."

He shakes his head. "Not at all. Unless you plan on passing every question, that is. Up for a challenge?"

In exchange for some potential vital information to aid my escape, giving a few answers of my own is a small sacrifice to make. "Is anyone watching us right now?" Anyone who might try to stop me leaving.

"I like when you get straight to the point. But it depends on your definition of 'watching us'. No one is watching us specifically, but I have eyes and ears monitoring the restaurant generally, both inside and out. I can't be too careful when it comes to safety."

"Of course not." I mutter.

Ayden pretends not to hear and instead continues. "What's your favourite colour?"

I blink several times. This wasn't the direction I saw this going when he suggested this game. "Green." I finally answer, thinking of Faye's wings I've always been so jealous of. A mistake. My heart hurts to think of my best friend. Never in our lives have we been apart for this long before. I clear my throat. "Do you truly plan to let me go?" Will he be true to his word if I can't manage an escape?

"Yes." He reaches for my hands across the table. I let him hold them. "Have a little faith, Kora. Being out in town is a step on your way back to Lyria. I thought that was obvious, but clearly I should've been more reassuring."

I shake my head. "It's just hard to trust you. You deceived me the first time we met. Your words could just be empty promises."

"Then I'll just have to prove they're not. Why did you begin singing that time you found me playing the piano?"

My brain has to work overtime to keep up with the changing conversation. "Because the music was beautiful and joining in was my way of appreciating that."

"And..." He prompts.

I know what he wants to hear; something about himself. How attracted I am to him. How he intrigues me. I pull my hands from his and take a sip of wine instead. Just a small one, but enough for him to get the message. "Do you regret anything that's happened between us?" I ask before my glass is even back on the table.

"I regret the way you found out who I am and that I couldn't break it to you more gently."

I wait. But... "That's it?" He truly has no regrets about holding me hostage? Or anything else regarding the way he's treated me?

"I would be lying if I gave you the answer you're asking for, but the truth I can give is that it was never my intention to take away your freedom. If I hadn't forced you to stay, you would've refused to allow our relationship a chance. At least with things as they are, we have that chance to get to know each other. So no, I don't regret my actions, but I do regret the situation which caused me to make them. Can you forgive me?"

As mad as I am at him, I can see the logic behind his thought process. The flaw in his logic being that imprisoning me created another barrier preventing us from ever having a relationship. But there's logic nonetheless. And that makes me want to forgive him. And I can't let that happen. But he needs to believe I can. "Not at this point in time." I answer honestly, leaving a little room for him to hope.

"I can work with that." He reaches forwards to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger, and he leans in to whisper. "But a lack of forgiveness doesn't mean there needs to be a lack of passion. Wouldn't you agree?"

"It's my turn to ask a question." I breathe.

"So it is." He draws back, a seemingly innocent smile on his face. "Ask away."

What else should I ask him? I can't remember what I'd been thinking before he invaded my space. No doubt that was his plan. But there's a sudden coldness without his touch. Without his lips so close. I look at those lips now. Warm. Enticing. I remember the feel of them on mine. Without thinking, I lean in closer. My eyes flick up to his. What is he waiting for?

Oh. It's my turn to ask him a question. "My memory blacks out when I try to remember the night we met. What happened between us?"

I expect him to launch into a graphic tale of our one-night stand, but instead he turns away and takes a sip of wine. My lips purse. The desire fogging up my mind disperses.

Before I can question him further, our food arrives.